#i’ve invested more into that wardrobe in the past two days than i have in the past two years. FOUR years even. COMBINED

[areyouwho-ithinkyouare]

if my bank doesn’t contact me about abnormal payments from my account over the last two days i will be SHOCKED

[billionairebabes]

Trophy Wife Aesthetics for Black Women

“Hi! What do you think are the non-negotiables of being a trophy wife? Aesthetically. For black women. I think white women have a different level up journey.”

I was asked this question in a chat but I wrote so much information that I figured I should share my response with you all as well. I’ll try to make this as concise as possible. 

I’ll start by saying that aesthetically, Black women have to be more than cute. White women are considered beautiful just for being white, we don’t get that privilege, you know? However, being beautiful isn’t the end all be all. There are plenty of black trophy wives that aren’t naturally “beautiful” but they present well. Presentation is everything kind of like food. It may taste great but you may not even want to touch it if it’s presented poorly. 

Here are my personal non-negotiables: 

1. Keep your hair done. This doesn’t mean keep your hair in a weave or wig 24/7. You can be natural too. One of the more affluent men I dated actually preferred my natural hair over wigs. But make sure it’s well taken care of, always. Deep condition, moisturize, detangle etc. Use clips in if you need the extra volume. If you’re going to do weaves and wigs, make sure your closure is “undetectable”. Keep flyaways in order with an oil or mousse. Carry a brush and comb with everywhere to touch up every now and then but not in front of him if possible.

2. Your skin has to be pretty taken care of as well. If you’re his wife, you’re going to be waking up to him every morning. I don’t believe in waking up earlier than my man to put on light makeup and stuff. Men aren’t even worth that lol. But DO try to achieve great skin so that you still are pretty when you wake up. Doesn’t have to be perfect. Many people don’t have perfect skin. But make sure you’re washing, toning, moisturizing blah blah. I’m starting to follow the 10-step Korean skincare routine. It’s on my blog If you guys want to check it out. I’ve been investing a significant amount of time in learning what acids do what and how they can address my specific concerns. Good skin overall just makes you look wealthier too. So on “no-makeup” days, you can just do eyebrows, and lipgloss and mascara if you don’t have lash extensions and still look put together. Affluent men tend to enjoy outdoor activities, there will be times when you don’t wanna be in a full face but you can if you want to. The same goes for skin on the rest of your body as well. I shower about two times a day so I moisturize my body two times a day. To moisturize I use a mixture of oils, shea butter and regular lotion. I moisturize my hands every time I wash them too. Once or twice a week, I do a full-body exfoliation. I have a dry brush that I use and occasionally, I opt for a scrub instead. 

3. Take care of your teeth - Straight white teeth against melanated skin is >>>>. Plus it makes you look prettier, more put together, and of course, wealthier. Straightening teeth is expensive but a worthy investment. If you can’t straighten now, just whiten and take good care of your teeth in the meanwhile. Brush twice daily, floss daily, and whiten throughout the week. 

4. Keep your nails done. Can’t be too long or else we’re considered “ghetto” I usually go about medium length but a lot of blogs will suggest short. My man loved my medium length nails lol. I usually go for softer colors like baby pink, sometimes white. If I’m not able to go to the salon, I clean and file my nails down to an even length and paint them with a clear polish. It’s hard to make a mess of clear polish and my nails still look nice and shiny. I pop collagen pills to improve their strength because I naturally have weaker nails that break pretty easily. 

5. Wardrobe. Try to build a timeless wardrobe with a lot of basics you can build on and mix and match. For example, blazers are a staple for me. I wear them with jeans but I can mix them with trousers too. Then I have hella basic bodysuits I can wear with either combo. An easy trick for me is to buy a ton of neutrals. I’m not a big color person so it’s easy for me to shop this way. However, do not let my preferences deter you. Black women own color, if this is your style, go for it full throttle but be tasteful. I usually go more colorful on vacations. There are tons of articles out there on how to build a good wardrobe though. 

6. Stay in shape - I won’t say there’s a specific body type you need to have but take care of your body. I’m still working on working out consistently but because of skinny privilege I’ve been able to lack in that department and still be perceived as “fit”. Currently, I try to do flexibility stretching and exercise on Monday, Wednesday & Fridays. Stretch on weekends. If you get cosmetic surgery like a BBL, breast job etc. make sure it’s fitting for your frame. 

7. Lastly, this doesn’t apply to aesthetics but I feel as though black women have to DO SOMETHING to be snatched up as trophy wives. We don’t get pulled into that position just for being pretty as often as white woman do. For example, Alexis O. Of Reddit wifed Serena Williams who is the best tennis player in the world. Not some random girl he thought was cute. Prince Harry wifed Megan Markle who was not only a successful actress but also had an outstanding educational background to match. Janet Jackson married billionaire businessman, Wissam Al Mana. Now of course, many of us aren’t that successful yet but hopefully you get the point. Men in positions of higher status want to know that you can fit into his lifestyle and don’t have beans for brains. Having something going for yourself also gives him something to invest in. Men like to feel needed or helpful but not used. 

Additionally, owning a business or working in corporate greater increases your chances of mingling with men in positions to make you a trophy wife. There’s a reason why college sugar babies are so successful but for women past that stage, have a career, have a small business. Do SOMETHING. It also creates a safety net for you as well. Men can be unpredictable and can do horrible things. I read an article once about a man who hid his entire fortune in offshore shell companies when him and his wife were divorcing so that she wouldn’t be able to get anything. It took her lawyer literal years to untangle that web of shell accounts he spun. Running your own business or even having a solid set of skills saves you in the event of the worst of the worst. Your life shouldn’t crumble to pieces if this man decides to divorce you. Same goes for even being the spoiled girlfriend of a wealthy man. Having a wealthy boyfriend or husband is one thing, knowing how to use him as a resource is another. Girls who truly win at this game walk away from these relationships with more than a few handbags and a baby. 

Good Luck Ladies! 🥂

[lexa-lives-in-us]

Saving Tips for Hard Times

I found this old document where I collected a series of tips to save money. This is all part of my experience of when I was near homeless, and some work depending on where you live, some don’t. Here we go.

BILLS:

1. The optimum temperature for refrigerator operation is 5°C, and -18°C for freezer operation. As a rule of thumb, for each additional degree of refrigeration output about six percent more electricity is used.

2. Unplug your appliances. Lamps, microwave, tv, computers etc. They don't need to be plugged until you use them, and it saves energy to keep them unplugged. Therefore, money.

3. Do homework for phone companies and internet plans. Call them! Often they are toll free and if you mentioned that you were already with them or thinking of going with them and then found out another company had a better deal, they could offer you deals for lower prices. I had to do it all the time for my phone, until they couldn't really offer anything better.

4. BIKE. Invest in a used bike if you can, especially for the warmer months. It offsets the transit costs and better your health.

5. WALK. That's the same as the bike, honestly.

6. Pay your bills on time, you will avoid late fees which can up to HUNDREDS of dollars wasted over the course of a year. If you can, set up automatic payments so you don’t forget.

FRIDGE:

1. Every time the refrigerator door is opened, cold air escapes and warm ambient air enters. To compensate for the temperature increase in its interior, the refrigerator must then use energy to bring the temperature back down. Always avoid opening the door unnecessarily and for too long.

2. When defrosting frozen food place it in the refrigerator. Not only does this ensure that the food is carefully defrosted, its presence cools down the refrigerator interior, reducing the amount of work that the compressor has to do, and therefore lowering energy consumption.

3. Never put warm food in the refrigerator as this will heat up the interior, as well as other stored foods. Hot food should always be allowed to cool to room temperature before placing it in the refrigerator

MONEY:

1. Keep all the containers like glass bottles, juice bottles, jars, cans etc. Look for your Return-It depot and have trips to return them. They give back coins for laundry, small expenses etc

2. Use that junk mail. Go through it, find coupons for food, for essentials like toilet paper or shampoo.

3. CHECK. THAT. DOLLARSTORE. They often have things like pasta, ketchup, toilet paper, batteries etc for literally 1 dollar.  Pasta is pasta, toilet paper is toilet paper. Seriously. Don't need to spend 5$ on a shampoo bottle when you can have it for 1/5 of the price.

4. Do homework and check with different banks for which one offers a better plan. Some of them are willing to help out. Sit down with their advisors, find the best solution!

5. Use the envelope system! For example, one envelope with a label “food” the other with “entertainment” the other with “bills”. Then set the right amount of cash for each. That’s what you’re allowed to spend each month. If you realize you need more for food, grab it from the entertainment envelope. Adapt and arrange as needed.

6. If you can, set up an automatic saving (example 50$ every paycheck) for both regular saving AND an emergency fund.

7. Use the 24-Hour Rule. Avoid purchasing expensive or unnecessary items on impulse with a self-imposed 24-hour rule. For any non-essential item, wait 24 hours before purchasing. It’s perfect for online shopping where your items can simply be added to your cart to purchase later.

8. Make a grocery list BEFORE going to the grocery store and STICK to it. You’re going to avoid buying things you don’t really need.

9. DO. NOT. SHOP. WHILE. YOU. ARE. HUNGRY. Or you’ll end up buying food that you actually don’t need just because you feel snacky!

10. Only use ATMs from your bank, or you get charged small fees.

11. Set a “No Spend Day” per week, where you consciously DO NOT spend any money for that day.

12. Ditch the paper: Cutting out paper towels and using cloths and napkins that you can simply wash and reuse is a simple way to save.

13. After you wear clothes, hang them outside your wardrobe, on a door or something. You can air them out a bit, then stick them in the closet without washing. You can basically reuse the same clothes two or three times without having to wash them, sometimes they just need a bit of air and they won’t smell AT ALL.

14. If you don’t own or want to spend money on an iron, hang whatever blouse you need to iron in the bathroom while you shower. The steam will humidify the fabric and straighten it up.

15. Hang stuff to dry. Really don’t need to spend money on the dryer.

16. Sign up to the library. They have so many books and DVDs nowadays. You can also just go, sit at the library and stay warm for a while, so that you don’t have to sit at home and either suffer the cold or use money on your own heat.

17. Budget, budget, budget. Get a lil notebook, write down the monthly expenses, cut what you don’t need. It gets easier with time.

 FOOD:

1.       Make a meal plan. Write 10-14 days worth of dishes that you can do (lunch, dinner, everything you need). You can then toss them around as you go on with your week, but that way you have a pretty clear idea of what you use and the food you go through for how long. It also reduces the risks of getting take out since you already have plans for what to eat.

2.       Cook double! Seriously. Make that dinner and double it up. Leftovers can be frozen or put in the fridge for the day after.

3.       Meal prep. Once a week, prep a bunch of different recipes. Let them cool down, stick them in the freezer. At that point you’ll already have all these meals at the ready to just thaw/microwave or oven up.

4.       You don’t need pop. You don’t need alcohol. You most likely don’t need milk, but go for it if you wanna. Just remember dairy products go bad WAY more quickly than non dairies, so consider getting food and drinks with no dairy in them. Mainly, though. Water. Just drink water. Lots of it too! Sometimes our brain can’t tell the difference between hunger and thirst. You think you’re snacky? Drink some water instead! It’ll quell your hunger.

5.       Freeze fruit! If you think you’re not gonna be able to eat fruit in time, put it in a Tupperware or a ziplock and slap it in the freezer. You’ll be able to then use it for smoothies.

6.       Use the Italian saying “Colazione da re, pranzo da nobili, cena da poveri.” Which quite literally means “Breakfast as a king, lunch as a noble, dinner as a poor.” Breakfast should be very filling, carbs, protein, vitamins. It carries you for the whole day. Lunch should be quite filling too! But supper doesn’t really need a lot of it, and if you REALLY have to skip a meal, skip supper. Your body doesn’t need that much sustenance while sleeping.

7.       This is for the desperate times but I’ve done it, and I would do it again if I ever had to. Go to markets that have like… Fruits and veggies. Talk to them. Ask them “HEY, can I have the fruit/veggie that you have to throw away?” Ask them if you can have the ugly produce, the one that doesn’t look pretty enough to be put out. Or ask them to have whatever extra they have to dump because is past the expiry date. EXPIRY DATE IS USUALLY MUCH LONGER THAN WHAT THE LABEL SAYS. I wouldn’t risk it with dairy stuff or with things that are VERY expired, but one or two days? Totally fine, I promise. And if you have to? Dumpster Dive. Especially at markets with fruit and veggies that have to be sold on the same day (because it’s not considered “fresh” past that day.) Or behind pizza places like Dominos or Panago or whatever chain. They get pizza orders wrong all the time. Just give a peak behind these buildings and look inside their boxes. You have no idea how many times I found perfectly fine pizzas. For free! IF YOU DUMPSTER DIVE, MAKE SURE YOU HAVE GLOVES, A MASK AND PLASTIC BAGS TO PUT YOUR STUFF IN. ONCE AT HOME, DISCARD GLOVES AND WASH PRODUCE THROUGHLY. Also check tumblr for your divers community, they usually know the best spots.

 CLOTHES:

1.       Thrift shop! So many GOOD used clothes are out there! Honestly! My whole wardrobe is thrifted and everything looks brand new. It takes a bit of research and maybe that shirt you liked is not in your size, but you can find EVERYTHING, from socks to bras, at a thrift store. Don’t thrift underwear though. You want to go new with those.

2.       Invest in some needle and thread, then open youtube. There are SO MANY tutorials that teach you how to mend holes in socks and underwear. And really, no one will really notice if a mend is perfectly done or not. After a week, you’ll forget it too! But that prevents you from throwing away clothes that could just be mended a little.

3.       Something doesn’t fit you? Too small, too big? YouTube, homie. They have tutorials on how to fix these kinda things! All you need, again, is needle and thread.

4.       Organize clothes swaps with friends and/or neighbors. Everyone brings clothes they don’t need, put them in a pile. Go through the pile and grab whatever there is. There’s no money exchange, one could go home with 1 item and one could go home with 50 items. Who cares? The extra stuff… DONATE IT TO A SHELTER.

Feel free to add more, and stay safe!

[the-young-and-forgotten]

A Glimpse Through the Years - 2nd Year

| Masterlist |

1st of September 1992 - 2nd Year:

The summer holidays had been even more boring than the christmas ones (and that was saying something). There were loads of formal parties and not nearly enough fun to be had.  You never thought you would admit it but you were glad school was back but also… it was Hogwarts. 

Waving off your brother and mum, you step through the barrier once again. You close your eyes and tilt your face up as a feeling of relief and extreme nervousness washes over you. 

You hear the faint sound of your name being called, then you felt persistent tapping on your shoulder. You spin around and come face to face with a… paper bag? 

“I took care of my face!” the bag says. You slowly realise who it was and burst into laughter. Draco was standing there, a paper brown bag over his head. You lift it off and smile at his blushing face.  You turn the bag over in your hands, it was distinctly muggle.  “How the heck did you even get one of these?” He does jazz hands and puts on an over-excited smile “MaGiC!!” 

You shake your head at his antics, grabbing his arm and pulling him along beside you. “Lets go before someone steals our compartment.” You weave your way through the crowd, tripping up a lot of people and apologising every second. 

It took forever to get on that train and by the time you actually got on it, Draco looked extremely aggravated. Not knowing what else to do, you start to apologise. “If i hear you say sorry one more time. You are unfriended once again.” “Who said we were ever friends?” you tease, before running down the train laughing your head off. He charges after you, looking like an angry bull.  You decide to irk him further, which is probably not a good idea. “Woah there Draco! You look a bit Gryffindorrish to me!” 

He catches up to you and pulls you to a stop just outside the compartment you wanted. “Oh? to be a Slytherin I must have no emotions?” “Well I mean, your ‘family’ will be proud”  He makes a disgusted face and pulls open the compartment door then turns to face you, “But are you proud of me?” “More than anything Dray!” You laugh, pulling him in. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at Draco questioning why Potter wasn’t at the Feast. You couldn’t help but be a little curious as well. Where was he? Is he expelled? Missed the train? Or worse? 

Draco notices the look on your face and frowns in disgust. “Don’t tell me you are worrying about Potter.” “Says the boy who just asked me where he was. How am i supposed to know?”

He opens his mouth and closes it, a little confused. “Fair point… At least Potter missed Dumble-bore’s speech. Lucky him.” You stab a fork into your meat and wave it around and answer. “Some of us have all the luck.”

With your mouth full of meat you stand and pull Draco along with you. “Since you are so concerned about Potter, let’s go find him.” “What? Just go searching around the castle?” “Yeah!” You stop for a second and look back at him “why, are you scared?” He scoffs and pushes past you “Of course not! I’m Draco Malfoy, a pureblood slytherin. What would I be scared of?”

The two of you creep along the corridor, trying to look for anything that hinted at Potter. It was going for so long that you had started to give up and were about to suggest going back when Draco suddenly pulled you behind an armoured guard just as Mcgonagall, Ron and Harry came past. Not believing your luck, you both look at each other in shock before scrambling after the three Gryffindors. 

You couldn’t have gone more than 100 meters before a drawling voice from behind you made you stop in your tracks “What… in the world… do you think you are… doing?” Heart in your throat, you slowly spin around, wracked with fear.  “Ahh Professor Snape!” Draco pipes up, seemingly perfectly at ease. “We were just taking a nice walk around the castle!” “In the dark? ...Alone?”  He nods earnestly, still showing no fear towards being caught. Snape sighs and gestures towards the dungeons. “I suggest that the two of you... hurry back to the common room… the feast is over..” He spun around, swishing his cloak and walked back to his office. 

Draco grins at you and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the dungeons. You pass a couple of paintings more strange than the last before speaking. “You know what’s not fair?” You say, rather huffily. “That you’re Snape’s favourite.”  He laughs “Well if i wasn’t Snape’s favourite can you imagine how it would’ve gone? You would have had to kiss any free afternoons that you had goodbye.” 

When you get into the common room, almost everyone except yourselves were already up in their dorms. The only people sitting around were Crabba and Goyle. You felt the shift in Dracos demeanor and rolled your eyes before he even realised what he was doing.

He strode up to them and struck up a conversation as you stood awkwardly off to one side. After a little bit you gave up on the pretense that he would leave the conversation to talk to you and walked up to the dorms, hearing snippets of the conversation in which he was invested in so adamantly.  

The first few months of school flew by in a blur. You drew closer to Theo and Blaise even though you still believed you were best friends with draco even if it was nearly impossible to even talk to him nowadays. 

It was the night of the Halloween feast. You had just come down from the dorm after spending a tantalizing long time cleaning up after Pansy after she threw around everything in her wardrobe. You suppress a yawn. No matter how much you love this feast, you have a feeling it’s going to drag on a little too long for your liking. 

Just as you round the corner, Harry and his friends bolt past like bats out of hell, making the split second decision to follow them, you spin around and stumble after them.  

You hear shouts just as you round the corner and jump back with a scream. There, on the wall hung Mrs Norris and a message with what seemed to be inscribed in blood was "THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE." You cover your mouth in absolute horror, before speaking “did… did one of you do this?” You say cautiously. Ron bristled up, his face turning red “Us? How typical of a slytherin to blame it on someone else! It was probably you trying to fr-”After

“Shut up Ronald” Hermione says stiffly. “she has a reason to think that.  all, we are here at a rather unfortunate time..” “Y/n?” A voice calls out from the other end of the corridor. An unmistakable voice. “Is that you? I heard you scream as I was heading back to the feast and came to see wha…” Draco stops short and looks at the wall. You could see his lips moving as he read the message and registered the cat. In a blink of an eye, his gaze is on Harry. Before he could get a word out, tons of students came pouring in from every direction and just like you, they stood and read the message before it all erupted into chaos. Filch was cradling his frozen cat and students were desperately trying to work out what was happening. Out of the noise came a loud, snobbish voice “Enemies of the Heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” 

You go to stop him just as Albus Dumbledore himself came along. He ordered Gilderoy, Snape, Mcgonagall, Filch, Potter and his friends to accompany him, leaving it up to the prefects to establish some order within this chaos. 

By the time you got back to the common room, rumours were circling already of the writing on the wall. You threw yourself onto your bed, too exhausted to think about it. You woke up and were hit with the events of last night. Groaning, you fell back into your bed, stuffing a pillow over your face. Eventually, you had to get up and eat something, desperately wishing you knew where the kitchens were located.

Throughout the next few weeks, you received the dirtiest looks possible from the three other houses. Everyone either thought it was one of the slytherins or Harry Potter. Which was why you were receiving such glares, also since Draco had shouted the M-slur, everyone was taking out their anger on you, since you were his best friend, so double glare. 

Draco. You hadn’t spoken to him for a little while. You were angry at him for shouting that since your mother is a muggleborn. He had tried - on numerous occasions - to strike up a conversation, but you had blatantly ignored him, only feeling white hot anger at each encounter. 

But the more time you spent apart, left you feeling sadder. No matter what he did, you couldn’t stay angry at him for more than a day, but this took the cake. As more petrifications happened, you grew terrified. Not even the worst Slytherin could do this, right? ‘Right’ you decided. ‘A talk with Draco is long overdue.’

A few days later, you managed to catch him on his own. He was running down the corridors, obviously late for Charms class. “Hey Draco wait!” you called out! Catching up to him and grabbing his arm to stop him. He turned around and a flurry of emotions ran over his face. Relief, happiness and confusion. “Y/n hey! What's wrong?” he said, trying to get rid of the awkward air. “I - um I’ve been better… these attacks are freaking me out a bit…” He laughs “The Heir won't attack us. We’re Slytherins!” “R-right anyways, I came to ask two things.” He looks a bit apprehensive at this but gestures for you to continue. You take a deep breath and begin “One. Why did you shout out mudbloods you’ll be next? You know my mums a muggle-born and it’s a seriously rude thing to say.” He tries to look sorry but you can tell he was having a hard time. “It wasn’t meant towards your mum. You know I love her and I was only meaning that mudblood Hermione. Next question.” “Dray, you can’t go around calling people slurs for god's sake! Two. Do you know who the Heir could be…?” He narrows his eyes and studies your face before realising what you were implying. “You think I’m the Heir don’t you?” You say nothing, confirming his suspicions. His face grows cold with anger. “As delighted as my father would be if i were, I’m not. I don’t know about you but don’t particularly like our school being in danger.” You raise your eyebrow at him, going on the defensive. 

“You certainly don’t show it. You always look amused at the next attack” 

He ignores what you just said, his eyes growing distant as he shook like a leaf. “7 years of friendship and you think I’m capable of this. Really shows what you actually think of me.” 

“Then maybe don’t look so delighted when people are getting petrified left, right and centre.” You snap back. “Maybe stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. It’s not like you’re gonna be hurt anytime soon.” He sneered. 

You push past him. Tired of it. “Stop trying to be someone you’re not Dray, stuck-up rude snob isn’t a good colour on you.” 

*Dracos POV*

He grasped his hair as you turned the corner, filled with hurt and anger. Fat chance he was going to Charms now, he didn’t feel like getting stared at with daggers. He knew he should apologise but he didn’t feel like it right now. 

He had missed hanging out with you so much and the moment you chose to talk, he had blown it. 

He leant against the wall and slid down to the floor. Closing his eyes, sulking. He grew bored after a while and stumbled back to the library, having nothing better to do. On the way he passed the bulletin and looked to see if anything good was happening.

‘Next weekend at Hogsmeade’ no, ‘Firecrackers for 5 galleons each’ no, ‘Dueling Club’ no- his eyes went back to it and he picked up a pamphlet interested. 

“Dueling Club tonight! All are Welcome! ~ Gilderoy Lockhart” 

Draco shrugged. He might go… just for laughs. 

It was finally time for the Dueling Club. He sauntered through the Great Hall’s doors, a cocky grin on his face as Crabba and Goyle flanked him like bodyguards. A long singular table had been set up where Lockhart was harassing students near him. 

He walked up to the stage with his followers, sneering at everyone around him, but in turn just keeping an eye out for you. He finally spots you at the front, looking uncomfortable from Lockhart asking you question after question. He storms up to Lockhart and interrupts him “Sorry Professor, but me and y/n need to practise” he takes you by the arm and leads you away, before Lockhart could say anything. He signals for crabbe and Goyle to remain behind, wanting to keep this between you and him. 

*Your POV* You glare at him, still hurt from before. He places a hand behind his neck looking awkward 

“Look, Y/n” He stares at you, his eyes holding anguish and genuine guilt. “I’m sorry for being a prick just today and back in October. You’re my… closest friend and I couldn’t bear not talking. You mean too much to me.” You deflate a little, smiling weakly. You had hoped for this, you had barely taken it either. 

Words failing you, you took a step forward and hugged him ferociously, catching him off guard. Moments later he hugs you back, blinking through unshed tears, burying his face into your shoulder. Both of you suffer through the disastrous Dueling Club together. Stifling your laughter at Lockhart and being so shocked when Harry started speaking parseltongue? Both of you walked back to the common room, being the two of many students whispering about Harry’s ‘gift’. 

The rest of the year wore on and it was discovered that even a ghost could be petrified. The golden trio were constantly giving you looks that confused you. Harry wore a worried face, where Ron was just angry but he looked that way toward every Slytherin nowadays and Hermione? Hermione just looked thoughtful. Which unnerved you the most. You liked Hermione, - she reminded you a lot of yourself - but she was scary when it came to figuring out something. Which was why you couldn’t help but put your guard up when you passed her in the corridor, looking anywhere but at her. 

Which was why it surprised you when both Hermione and a prefect were petrified. Out of all the muggle borns in the school, she wasn’t on your list of ‘likely to be petrified’. 

Days went by and you both watched Ron and Harry grow more and more aggravated. They seemed to be lost in painful thought more often than not and (not that you would ever admit this aloud) you hoped they would find the Heir soon and defeat them.

It was two weeks until the end of school and the situation was at a standstill. Everyone was on edge, thinking this was the quiet before the storm. And they weren’t wrong. A week later, the second Writing on the Wall happened, everyone was shocked no matter how many times they had predicted it. Even Draco was shocked “Okay, i'm sure that no slytherins could do that” he had said, wide eyed. 

You had spent the next few days anxiously biting your nails, hoping, praying, something would happen. And something did.

It was a late night and you stormed out of the common room, angry at yourself for developing a horrible sleep schedule from the recent turn of events. At that moment you heard a crash and a few angry whispered shouts consisting of “shut the bloody hell up” and unmistakable “sorry”. You bit back a gasp. 

It was Ron and Harry. You shuffled along the corridor and peeked around the corner, hiding once again once you saw what was happening. Dumbledore was escorting a stunned Lockhart while Ron and Harry carried Ginny between them, absolutely filthy. You peeked your head around the corner once more, watching as Dumbledore looked out straight at you and winked, with his familiar twinkle in his eye. 

It was the last feast of the school year and you watched as the Gryffindor was showered in points as Slytherin started up their typical booing. You rubbed your temples, just glad that the whole headache had passed. Draco patted your back with sympathy, thinking you were just mourning over Slytherins loss. “Come off it y/n, we’ll win next year.” you smile at him, just glad he isn’t too upset. “Yeah i know. We’ll wipe the floor with them.” You grin at each other before laughing, heading off to finish packing. 

You throw your luggage into the compartment above you, huffing in exhaustion. As you swing it, you almost knock out Draco, clipping his shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh as he fell to the floor and stayed there for a good hour, teasing to no end. 

When he finally gets up, he drapes himself over you, plucking the book out of your hands and as payback, made fun of every character he came across. 

You groan as the whistle signaling the arrival into Kings Cross Station. You push Draco off your lap and reluctantly grab your luggage (almost knocking him out again for good measure) heading off the train. 

You took in the bustling atmosphere and wild crowd, trying to spot your parents. Once you had located them, you turn to Draco who had found his a long time ago but had waited for you. “So.. until next year Dray..” you say sadly. “Heh. Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair smiling sweetly. He seemed to make up his mind about something and gave you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, whispering in your ear “I’m gonna miss you.” You smile at him and run off to your parents, waving just as you leave for the muggle world. 

If you had only stuck around for a second longer, you might have seen the deep blush that grew across Dracos cheeks.

taglist: @loonyvee​ @just-a-belgian-girl​ @kashishwrites @hahee154hq @adrianpuceyishot @naviation-xx x @abitofeverythinggg

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X7

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

They did it! I can’t believe it! They actually killed DeLuca off! I’m so happy right now! As long time readers will know I have never been a Andrew DeLuca fan and I speculated back in the summer that they might be planning to write his character off after it was revealed that the planned finale for Season 16 included an explosion that was supposed to claim the life of one of the characters. I speculated that DeLuca was the most likely candidate with Tom and Jackson being the most likely runners up because I felt that they had gone as far as they could with DeLuca’s character and there wasn’t much left for him to do on the show.

Add that to the fact that the actor who plays DeLuca said a bunch of stuff to the press last year where he spoiled some pretty major plot points and stated that he knew things about where the show was going when he hadn’t even read a single script for the season yet and I was pretty sure his days were numbered. That being said, the show had teased us a bunch of times about firing, killing, or writing off the character during seasons 15 and 16 and they never went through with it so a big part of me was skeptical that they ever would.

But it turns out I was right! His days were numbered and they wound up killing him off in the Mid-Season Premiere! I’m still in shock. It hasn’t really sunk in yet to be honest. This episode honestly made me wish we’d gotten to see the remaining episodes and finale of Season 16 as planned. Based on what we know it looks like the plan was for Richard, Bailey, Meredith, and Carina to stage an intervention, DeLuca was to go away and get treatment and return to the hospital only to die tragically in an explosion.

Season 17 would have opened with the characters finding out about that and mourning his death and I think it would have been interesting to see Meredith navigate that as in the Finale Hayes asked her out and she said yes. It seems likely that if the COVID-19 Pandemic had not hit when it did and shut down production and altered filming for this season we would have seen Meredith and Hayes go out for a drink and start dating.

Seeing Meredith navigate the loss of her ex-boyfriend who she was no longer close to while in the beginning stages of her relationship with Hayes would have been very interesting and I’m sorry we didn’t get to see that. I’m also sorry that due to safety restrictions Meredith and Hayes haven’t had much screen time this season, but it looks like that’s about to change as I’ll get into a bit later.

Back to the episode at hand. I never liked DeLuca as a character and I hated him with Meredith so I’m glad that they killed him off and that we never have to deal with that nonsense again. I’m glad that they caught the human trafficker Opal and took those people down. I was never super invested in that storyline so I’m glad they wrapped that up. I feel so bad for Carina though. She’s a great character and is wonderfully acted by Stefania Spampinato.

My heart broke for her in this episode because while I won’t miss her brother I know that she will and will be absolutely gutted when she finds out that he’s died especially after she worked so hard to get him help and treatment for his Bipolar Disorder. I’m glad she has Maya there to support her.

LOL at Bailey sleeping through the whole damn episode! What did I miss indeed! That poor woman slept through DeLuca getting stabbed, almost dying, not dying, having surgery twice, and then actually dying as well as the other shenanigans going on at the hospital. I loved that she was asleep at Meredith’s bedside especially after they spent a good chunk of Season 16 fighting.

I also feel really bad for Richard in that he’s obviously grateful that DeLuca helped save his life and wanted to help and when Owen turned him down because it wasn’t a good idea for him to scrub in Richard lurked in the background in the OR gallery the whole time to make sure that everything was okay. Plus he can’t talk to Meredith about it right now because she’s in a coma which must be so difficult for him. The extra stress also puts his sobriety at risk and that worries me.

I got to be honest I am struggling to understand Teddy’s point of view this season. She’s being really awful! She’s being cruel to Tom. She was cruel to Owen. I don't know what Teddy expected to have happen. Both Cristina and Amelia walked away from their marriages to Owen and moved on with their lives in large part because they realized Owen was in love with Teddy and always would be.

And then she finally gets what she’s wanted all these years and the minute she realizes Amelia’s baby might be Owen’s and not Link’s she runs back to Tom and has a several months long affair with him and then drops him like a hot potato as soon as she realizes that the baby is Link’s and after Owen finds out about the affair she refuses to talk to Tom for months and then comes crawling back to him and wants to be his friend after Owen makes it clear he wants nothing to do with her. WTF?

I feel bad for Tom. I really like his character. He’s super interesting and complex and he deserves better than someone who treats him like that. Tom is a good man at heart and he treated Teddy like gold and in return she’s done nothing but break his heart and stomp all over him when he’s already down. He deserves someone better. I’ve never been an Owen fan, but honestly Teddy is behaving so horribly I’m on his side on this one.

They had some great scenes in the OR together, but Teddy clearly read too much into it. Every time he gives her a crumb she’s convinced he’s forgiven her and wants to give her a second chance and that’s not it at all. Owen has been clear. He doesn’t forgive her and he doesn’t want to get back together with her. All he wants is to co-parent peacefully and work together as colleagues because he values her skills as a surgeon. That’s it.

It was cute to see Teddy Face Timing with Leo. I’m glad they are finding safe ways to incorporate the kids into the story. Speaking of which, the scene where Amelia and Maggie tell Zola that her Mom has been placed on a vent and she might not come off it was heartbreaking. That kid has grown into her own as an actress and really holds her own in that scene.

Her line about how she didn’t want them to tell Bailey or Ellis yet because they’re too young to understand broke me heart. Zola’s only a few years older than them but she’s old enough to understand the impact of what’s happening in a way that they can’t. And she remembers how hard it was when Derek died. When Cristina left. When Alex left. She doesn’t want to put her siblings though the same thing especially when Alex’s departure is still so fresh for them and they never got a chance to really know their Dad. The fact that Zola can recognize that at such a young age is raw and heart breaking.

We saw Winston and Maggie reconnect this episode which would have been super hot and enjoyable if Meredith hadn’t just been put on a ventilator! The scene where Jackson showed up looking for Maggie was too funny! I loved the scenes with Jackson, Link, and Winston in the backyard having beers! Winston has a great sense of humour and seems to be a calming presence. I like the idea of those three being friends.

Link’s face when he realized that Winston doesn’t know that Maggie and Jackson used to date and are also step-siblings. I’ll be interested to see Winston’s reaction when that comes out. I loved Link’s rant about how worried he was about Meredith and what her declining health and potential death was doing and would do to Amelia. Did anyone else catch that he called Amelia his wife? I’m calling it. They’re foreshadowing an Amelink wedding!

I liked hearing Jackson talk about how Meredith is family and they’re all worried and Winston’s comments about how all they can do is just keeping moving physically and metaphorically. I’m also loving Amelia and Maggie’s wardrobes this season. Their sweaters in this episode were gorgeous! Hats off to the wardrobe department! They’re looking good!

I loved seeing Jo and Hayes work together again because I love their friendship, but to be honest I was expecting more of the friendly teasing and banter of last season where she egged him on about Meredith and they traded barbs. Their scenes in this episode were a lot more intense and agitated. She totally played him with that line about Meredith.

He kept saying no to taking Luna to see her Mom and so Jo made it personal for him. If Meredith asked to see her kids Hayes would never say no and he would move heaven and earth for her. By making that connection Jo got him to agree to her plan. I also love that the reason he kept saying no in the beginning was because of what happened to Meredith.

She went from laughing and joking to being put on a vent and he doesn’t want to run the risk with any other patient and it’s obviously eating him up inside. He misses her. He cares about her and he’s clearly terrified about the possibility of her not waking up. That being said, Jo’s line where she compared Alex leaving her for Izzie because he found out he had kids he didn’t know he had and sending her a heartfelt letter to Hayes spending years watching his wife and the mother of his two boys die of cancer was way out of line. Super not okay. I really think that Jo is going to adopt that baby. I think that’s why they are setting up her interest in OBGYN.

In other news, Nico is still a terrible boyfriend to Levi. I honestly don’t know why Levi puts up with him. Levi really shone in this episode I think. He felt responsible for what happened, but instead of bungling things and making things worse like he might have done in the past he got out of his own way and asked Dr. Khan who was a vascular surgeon in Pakistan prior to immigrating to the U.S. to take his place.

I feel like this episode implies that the Beach is limbo now as I don’t know how else DeLuca could have ended up there as he wasn’t someone who was close to Meredith the way that Derek, George, Richard, and Bailey are. Not sure how I feel about that as I was kind of liking the is it a COVID dream is it the afterlife ambiguity.

Onto next week’s promo! I’m not excited that they appear to be setting up an episode in which the other characters mourn DeLuca’s passing as none of the other characters apart from Carina were really that close to him. They spent the last two seasons establishing that everyone hated his guts, considered him a nuisance, and only put up with him because they had to. So to me the other characters mourning him doesn’t feel authentic or real. It just feels forced.

There are several things I am excited about though. Seeing Maggie’s reaction to his death I think will be interesting. She was visibly upset and ran to his side when Alex beat him up in Season 13 and mourning the loss of your ex-boyfriend who you were no longer close to while being in a committed relationship with someone new I think is an interesting dynamic. She’s kinda standing in for Meredith here because she’s on a vent.

I’d like to see Catherine support Richard and make up for her horrible behaviour last season. And the best thing of all: Hayes!!! In the promo trailer we see Hayes sitting at Meredith’s bedside talking to her about how she needs to fight and how they all need her to fight. Bring it on! It’s about damn time! And Derek’s back and he’s … fishing? I’m excited to see what happens there and if they actually get to talk and have a real conversation this time. It has also been announced that Sarah Drew will be returning for a cameo as Dr. April Kepner this season so I’m excited for that!

Until next time!

[mintseesaw]

huling sandali 

translation. last moment ⇀ an entry for paraluman playlist

pairing: namjoon x reader genre: angst, est. relationship au word count: 2.2k warnings: themes of insecurities being triggered, emotional struggles, a break-up drabble a.k.a not a happy ending // pg-13

drabble request by @jim-parkin​​ with “pighati + namjoon” hi hjdgdhsgsg im sorry it took me 3254 years to write this :((( i hope you like it. Also, happy belated birthday, alyssa!!! huh i just found out like 10 hrs ago prior to posting this on my first attempt hfdkdjdh im a horrible friend but ily ;-( *unedited

Namjoon arrived home by the time you started packing your stuff. He found you sitting on the living room floor, casually sorting things and putting them in labeled boxes laid in front of you.

You were supposed to ignore him, just like what he’s been doing in the past week. You realized, days of argument after argument before seems better than a whole week of silence in the apartment. The loneliness becomes greater, the glassy tension— unbearable, and his passive treatment more than anything else, hurts you the most.

You couldn’t look at him, having no will to possibly see the indifference on his face while he watches you gradually removing your traces in his place.

As seconds turn minutes since the distinct click of the door closing snaps shut, you took notice of the prolonged silence without the tap of the heels of his black shoes on the granite floor resonating through the living room. With your curiosity suddenly distracting you out of your focus, your head tilted on your side to peek behind you.

There he was, standing so tall and so formal with a frown on his face. His eyes shone not because of the lenses of his glasses but from the unshed tears on his eyes. When your gazes met, he was quick to crane his neck to the opposite side.

You open your mouth to call him to gather his attention. But he was already walking away out of the living room.

It’s been a whole week since you told him you’ll move out. He perfectly understood the implication of it. He objected, tried to convince you not to leave. When his attempts went futile, he did stop trying. Then fostered the silence between the two of you.

He avoided you while you try to make things right by keeping the break up somewhat acceptable on both terms. His refusal to speak with you seemed to convince you that, somehow, he had given up, silently giving you the signal to proceed on your plans.

Half an hour later, you began emptying half of the wardrobe in the walk-in closet. Coincidentally, he was in the shower at the time. After work, he’d routinely clean himself up before he rests or eats dinner with you. However, he stopped taking meals with you nor stayed in the bedroom to read the day you broke the word to him. With his persistence to avoid your presence, you’re almost sure he would let you be in peace while you packed the last bit of your clothes from the closet.

You’re supposed to leave days ago. The tenant of the apartment complex you found weeks prior has been non stop bugging you to move in.

However, you cannot just leave without a proper goodbye to him. In fact, he should be the one leaving you, not the other way around. But he couldn’t do that. Because he owns this place just as much as he owns nearly everything here including your heart.

Namjoon would never ask you to leave, even if he wants you to. That’s how much goodness there is in him. You just happened to take advantage of it and live comfortably by his side.

With your emotions at bay, a silent tear spid down your cheeks, leaving a dot of patch on the fabric of your folded clothes as you fill up your luggage on the bed.

Mere seconds later just as you hear the bathroom door opening, you feel the familiar, strong arms snaked over your waist from behind making you still instantaneously on the spot.

“Namjoon—“

“Don’t… don’t leave.” He says to you for the first time in a week.

His wet hair quickly drenches the spot on your shoulder where he laid his forehead.

Squeezing his hand pressed on your stomach, you smile weakly without facing him. “We talked about this.”

You felt his forehead grazing your shoulder blade as he shakes his head, “I don’t agree with this.”

“We both need this. We need to give each other time to breathe.” You murmur under your breath, nearly admitting the real reason behind your decision. That you knew. You knew he was suffering, and he was trying not to show it to you.

“I don’t need it if you’re not with me.” Namjoon says back, the grip of his arms around tightening.

Sighing, “You’re smarter than me, Joon. You know it’s been tough for the both of us. You’ve been so patient with me and I know you’re getting tired.”

“We can s-still make this work. Fighting is normal. Arguments allow us to speak of our minds. We learn but we move on from it because we love each other.”

“We tried, Joon. So many times. So many times that there’s nothing left of me but doubts and insecurities.”

Namjoon plants a subtle kiss on the side of your head. You remained pliant to his embrace, almost not wanting for him to let you go. For him to insist his place in your life despite your determination to fulfill what you need to do.

“I can wait until you’re ready to love yourself, again.” He attempts once more. He’s always honest with his thoughts so you know he’s sincere when he speaks his heart out.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Then tell me what I should do, please don’t give up just yet.”

His words are like a twisting fire of a knife in your chest, slithering your heart apart and burning the shreds into ashes. The room suddenly feels suffocating and stiff.

Disentangling his arms around your waist, you turn to finally face him. If you’re not only so emotionally invested with the confrontation, you could have stared at him and let your eyes admire every detail on his face until he shies away from your peer that cheeks bloom with crimson tint. Just like the old times.

But your chances have run out, moments have fleeted, your time with him is almost over. Your palms harshly wiping wet traces on your cheeks, refusing to cry in front of him. With a tilt of your chin up, he struck you with his sorrowful, pleading eyes.

“Do you really want someone like me? Someone who depends on you— financially, physically, emotionally? You meet a lot of successful women and I fear that I’m not gonna be enough for you. Joon, I’ll always worry and pick up fights with you.”

Tears brimmed on his eyes, shaking his head to stress his disagreement. “You are more than enough for me. I didn’t love you because of what you have. I fell in love with you because of what’s in here,” he points at your chest.

“Why, it’s you who has a pure soul. You have everything a man could have asked for. Any woman would fall at your feet to earn your attention,” your voice deteriorating as your head falling in morose, suddenly losing the ability to hold his stare with the facade of a strength you’re putting up. “You know, I’m so lucky to have you. I’ve always told you that. But now, things changed. You’re suffering because of me. It’s how I realized I have to let you go because I want you to be happy, again.”

He gathers your face with his palms, forcing you to look at him. “No, no, no. That’s not true. You make me happy.. Please, stop this, you’re everything to me…”

His warm breaths fanning your skin with his heavy, calculated breathing.

“It’s me,” you pause, “You’ve taught me how to love but I chose the wrong way, I loved you too much than what I’m capable of giving. Now I’m lost and I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

He inches his face closer until his nose is touching your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I didn’t mean to change you. I thought I was doing the right thing for you. I want you to dream, I want to see you soar high with your chosen profession. Please, baby don’t leave me. We could fix this.”

No, he was getting the wrong impressions. You didn’t regret going back to college when he pleaded you to. You didn’t regret setting aside your passion for art to continue the education you once took up before you left ran away from home. None of the ugly thoughts poisoning your mind were his doing. It was you and your insecurities.

“It’s not your fault. You saved me, remember? I met you at the time I was drowning in grief. Then I started dreaming. And the day you confessed your feelings to me, you made my dream come true. That was more than enough for me, Joon. Every inch of you became my happiness and it pains me to see I’m the one making you suffer.”

“Listen to me, _____. You make me happy. There’s no perfect relationship. But you’re perfect to me. You’ve always kept me grounded, made me think of my future, made me thrive for our future. No woman has had me at my worst, they only want the good things in life. You’ve been through tough times. But the kindness in your heart remains immeasurable, do you hear me? You deserve everything I have offered and so much more, baby.”

His thumbs patiently brushing the tears away.

“I can’t keep dragging you with my downfall.”

“I don’t want us fighting but sometimes, it gets out of hand. I stay at an arm’s length but it doesn’t mean I want you gone. Because at the end of the day, I’d want to go home to you even when we’re not okay.”

Your eyes fluttered close, not bearing to see the tears free-flowing on his cheeks. Namjoon rarely cries in front of you. Even before when you were purposely trying to aim his heart with your sharp words, nothing could seem to break him down. It’s always you who’s end up losing. Crying.

Silence filled the air for a moment until you heard him shifted. Then you felt a pressure on the side of your thighs and when you caught up what he did, your knees almost gave out.

“Namjoon— w-what are you doing? Stand up!”

His fingers dug deep on the skin of your thighs, head hung long, “Don't leave,” he begs.

“No, stand up!” You sob in disbelief. He couldn’t do this when you should be the one begging for forgiveness for failing him.

Hurriedly, you shuffled on your knees, fisting his shirt as you sobbed on his chest.

His arms gave you warmth as they enveloped over your back. As the room starts to drown with your muffled cries, he cups your face and in a matter of second, Namjoon’s lips are on yours, swallowing your sobs and murmuring sweet I love you’s while keeping your connected lips with his.

Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours, your insides are a mess, dreading for the end of this moment. With his concern to your plan, he refuses to loosen his hold on you. Even when you urged him to lie down on the bed with you, he didn’t move not until you tugged his body down beside you.

The rhythmic brushes of your fingers on his hair have calmed him down but with his arm secured over your back. It was only when he finally fell asleep when the grip of his arm loosens.

It’s been hours. You haven’t gotten a wink of sleep, and the sun will soon rise in a matter of an hour or two.

It doesn’t resolve the issue. It won’t because you know the next day, things will be the same. Same insecurities will eat you up alive until you burst your anger at him. And then the fight starts, arguments will inevitably tear you two apart. It’s an unending cycle of toxicity that not even yourself can control. Not until you allow yourself to heal.

Until then, you deem yourself unworthy of his love.

You need to leave before he wakes up. You know, it wouldn’t take long before you regret your decision.

“Meeting you was the best thing that happened in my life. I’m sorry for failing you, for failing myself. I hope,” you choke as a lump forms in your throat, “... you’ll be proud of me when I get better even when you have found someone else.” You ended your parting words with your lips pressing gently on the back of his hand.

Your shoulders slightly shake, your hands tremble as sobs threaten to break from your throat.

Your thumb carefully caresses his knuckles, watching him sleep so peacefully with your blurry vision. Suddenly, you couldn’t find the strength in you to pull yourself up.

“Why is it so hard to leave?” You whisper, looking at his sleeping figure.

He is your strength. Your happiness. The owner of your heart. Your dream come true. Someday, you’ll return and take your heart back from him. But for now, you’ll have to start living without it.

With one last look, you stood up with all your might and let the tears fall mercilessly as you fought back the urge to run back to him.

~~~

That moment still remains vivid in your mind, as fresh as the wound in your heart a year later. If you could only turn back the time, you wish he was awake to stop you from leaving. Now, all you could do is watch him from afar at his favorite coffee shop with someone else. The same one he used to take you at. He looks genuinely happy. At least, the break up did him good.

Every time you stood up from your seat to leave, you keep reminding yourself it’s the last time you’ll hope for your paths to cross. Somehow when the pain gets too much to bear, you always find yourself coming back here. Hoping. For another chance. You have the answer to that now. Someone else has already taken your place in his heart.

Inside the coffee shop, the girl sitting across him huffs while watching you walk away out of the establishment. She shifts her gaze to the man in front of her whose attention has speechlessly zeroed in on your figure through the glass walls.

“When will you actually start talking to the girl? You’ve been dragging me here for over a month now. My time is precious, Kim. It’s so obvious you’re smitten for her!” She glares.

Namjoon didn’t answer, only because he doesn’t know how. How do I win her back?

mintseesaw © 2020

[tumbleweed-palmer]

Unexpected: Jimmy Palmer X OC Chapter Four. Epilogue.

Previous Chapter HERE

I won't lie I am considering writing another series with Jimmy and this OC, maybe covering more of their story.

Jimmy couldn’t help but to feel completely inadequate and unprepared as he stared down at the multitude of screws and parts set out on the floor in front of him. He’d been at this for an hour now and he was no closer to assembling this stupid thing than he’d been before he started. This was ridiculous. The only progress he’d made thus far was pulling all the parts and screws out of the box.

He didn’t understand how he could reassemble an entire skeleton without getting a bone out of place no matter how tiny or shattered the bone was, but he somehow couldn’t manage to put together a crib even with instructions.

Why’d they have to pick this particular crib to put on their baby shower registry? Oh yeah, because it matched the rest of the furniture they’d chosen and Jimmy had liked the reviews he’d seen for this crib. It seemed like the safest option from what he’d seen. No one had mentioned what a pain it was to assemble though.

This entire situation was pathetic and it made him feel pathetic. How was he expected to manage a newborn when he couldn’t even assemble a crib? If he couldn’t assemble a crib then what happened when his kid wanted him to assemble a dollhouse or a bicycle? What if his kid wanted him to assemble a swing set one day and he continued to be so inadequate? What if his failure to put this crib together set a precedent of failure when it came to fatherly duties?

He took a deep breath pulling his brain back from the thoughts. He knew this was just anxiety talking. He was fine; this was all fine. This was just a bad case of expectant father jitters.

He took another deep breath as he picked up two pieces that seemed like they should go together. He stared down at the graph he was given with the complicated instructions that had come in the box with all these parts.

He let out a groan as it hit him that these pieces couldn’t possibly go together, the screw failing to fit through any possible openings.

He dropped the pieces to the floor in front of him, another pained groan escaping him.

Her soft voice pulled him from his misery for a moment. “Jimmy, sweetheart. Give it a break. You don’t have to finish it right this second.”

“I’m fine, I’ve got this.” Jimmy insisted, proving just how stubborn he could really be when he wanted to.

Olivia managed to speak, not letting his insistence that he was fine deter her. “Just stop for a moment and give your brain a rest. You can pick it back up after dinner. We’ll have plenty of help to get this all put together by then.”

He let out a soft sigh remembering the dinner plans they’d made tonight. It had been Abby’s suggestion that they all meet up at Jimmy and Olivia’s new home for a bite to eat and provide some assistance in assembling the nursery for Baby Palmer. It was a sweet gesture and she’d managed to rope almost everyone into the plan.

Jimmy was touched by the kind gesture but he couldn’t help but to feel like Tony would have plenty to say about his inability to assemble this crib. He imagined “Uncle Tony” as Tony insisted on calling himself as often as possible would be pretty judgemental of his sister’s boyfriend’s inability to do one simple task.

Though Tony had been trying his best to adjust his attitude and accept Jimmy and Olivia’s relationship, Jimmy couldn’t help but to feel that Tony simply barely tolerated his presence in Olivia’s life. He couldn’t help but to feel that Tony was always watching him, always waiting for him to screw everything up. Jimmy felt the pressure to overperform and somehow win Tony’s approval not just as a friend and coworker, but as a brother-in-law.

Olivia spoke again, knowing exactly what to say to pull Jimmy from his task and whatever worry was building up in his brain. “Come on, just a little break. Come cuddle me. I’m your pregnant girlfriend and you aren’t allowed to tell me no.”

Jimmy felt the smile cross his lips, unable to ignore her requests.

He stood up turning to face her, his smile only growing.

People said that pregnant women glowed and Jimmy had to agree with this assessment every single time he looked at Olivia Dinozzo. He especially had to agree at a moment like this as she sat back in the rocking chair Dr. Mallard had gifted them for the nursery.

The rocking chair had been in the Mallard family for generations and Dr. Mallard had insisted that Jimmy and Olivia take it as they would find much more use out of it than he did. Jimmy would be lying if he tried to claim he didn’t get a little weepy when Dr. Mallard had presented them with the rocking chair the month before at Olivia’s baby shower.

Olivia was now in her third trimester, due any day now, and her belly reflected that. It was almost a comical sight as petite as she was with such a massive pregnant belly.

Jimmy could admit he did feel a bit guilty when she complained about how incredibly uncomfortable she’d been throughout this last trimester. Her current state was half his fault after all. Her belly seemed to get in the way of most things she wanted to do like sleeping on her stomach for example. Her center of balance was totally thrown off and her feet and back ached.

She’d taken to wearing sundresses and being barefoot as often as possible despite the cooler weather as summer faded and fall set in. The loose dresses felt far more comfortable than anything else she could be wearing, she'd insisted. She had bought several loose maternity sundresses relying on them for a comfortable wardrobe. She’d learned that when she had to go outdoors or leave the house she traded being barefoot for a pair of ugg boots and shoved on a cotton hoodie over her sundresses in an attempt to keep warm. She pointed out that no one could tell her she looked ridiculous given her pregnancy. At night she had taken to sleeping in just a maternity nightgown without undergarments because she felt that everything was far too constricting at the moment.

Today she’d chosen to wear a deep green cotton maxi dress and Jimmy thought that she looked amazing.Then again he’d been pretty insistent that she looked amazing throughout her entire pregnancy even when she was dealing with the world’s worst morning sickness in her first trimester.

Her long hair was piled up on top of her head and she wasn’t wearing a drop of makeup at the moment. She’d stated that one positive of pregnancy was all the hormones gave her great looking hair though she’d pointed out she’d gained a bit of curl to her hair. She was dreading the horror stories she’d heard about how her hair would most likely begin to fall out after she gave birth. Needless to say she might invest in a little haircut after giving birth.

Jimmy eagerly made his way over to her, not hesitating to drop down to his knees in front of her, scooting close to her. His lips pressed to her stomach, his voice soft and sweet. “How are my favorite people doing?”

“Good, your Jellybean isn't kicking me in the bladder for once.” Olivia pointed out, causing Jimmy to chuckle. His heart swooned at the goofy nickname for their baby. It was a result of Jimmy’s dumbfounded statement at their first sonogram appointment. The words had left him as they’d stared at the image on the screen in front of them he feeling so overwhelmed and as though he was brimming with love and awe “It kind of looks like a Jellybean.” The nickname Jellybean had sort of stuck after that.

He spoke the words leaving him without hesitation. “That’s probably because she’s turned so that she can move headfirst through the birth canal, or at least that’s what the last sonogram showed. So I imagine she can’t reach to kick your bladder anymore.”

Olivia scrunched her nose at this comment fast to reply. “Can we please not refer to it as my birth canal.”

Jimmy gave her an apologetic smile resting his head against her belly, his arms encircling her waist. Olivia placed a hand on the back of his head her stroking his hair, her fingers delicately massaging his scalp knowing that this was what he needed the most right now.

As her due date drew closer and closer Jimmy’s anxiety rose more and more. The poor guy was a nervous wreck. His constant fretting over her was kind of sweet and she knew he did it because he loved her. She worried though that he might have a nervous breakdown before her water even had a chance to break.

She knew that the stress of the past nine months had only increased Jimmy’s anxiety. He’d been working harder than ever trying to make sure Dr. Mallard would be able to function without Jimmy’s assistance after Jimmy took a few weeks off for the due date. Jimmy’s mother had been making several trips out to visit and attempt to help prepare for the baby. As much as Olivia loved and got along with Jimmy’s mother, Eunice Palmer could be a bit overenthusiastic about trying to help out. Then last month they’d had the chaos of a baby shower courtesy of Abby Scuito. It had gone well and they’d enjoyed time with loved ones but it had been exhausting in the best way possible. They had a feeling that thanks to all the gifts, Baby Palmer wouldn’t lack a thing.

Adding to their stress they both had been stretching themselves thin trying to settle into their new home and get everything unpacked before her due date. The process of buying the house had been stressful enough on its own but scrambling to move into it had been a stressful process as well especially considering Olivia couldn’t be much help with the physical aspect of moving given her pregnancy and Jimmy’s overprotective tendencies anytime she dared to even think about lifting a moving box.

Their new home was simple, located in a quiet Virginian suburb. It was in a decent neighborhood, though it was a little older. In fact, Olivia was pretty sure Jimmy and she were probably the youngest couple in the neighborhood judging by the neighbors they’d met thus far who all seemed to be old enough to be their grandparents. The commute to both of their jobs wouldn’t be too awful at least. The house was actually closer to NCIS headquarters than either of their apartments had been, so Jimmy’s commute wouldn’t be a nightmare. The little three bedroom house was two storeys and built with faded white siding. The master bath had a soaking tub which had definitely been something Olivia was looking for in a home given her and Jimmy’s love of a good bath together. Jimmy had liked the yard, insisting their kid would need a nice backyard to play in at some point. They’d easily fallen in love with the house and had been thankful that they’d been able to buy it. Olivia knew that her inheritance had at least worked in their favor when it came to the financial aspect of being able to afford the home. It was clear that they’d have no problem paying for the mortgage.

Olivia’s father of course had plenty to say about the house; very little of it had been positive. He’d been quick to hint that there was nothing glamorous about the house. It was a far cry from the large estate Olivia had been raised in. Their new house’s walls had needed a fresh coat of paint and the downstairs bathroom was a little outdated. The backyard wasn’t pretty but a good mowing had at least solved that issue. She was sure her father would prefer that they get an expensive luxury apartment or buy a much grander home. Olivia could afford it after all. He had made it obvious that he didn’t quite understand why she would she ever want to live in a house like this. Never mind the fact that there was nothing wrong with the house at all.

Olivia didn’t care what Dinozzo Senior had to say about Jimmy’s and her choices though. This was their home and they loved it. She was looking forward to raising a family with Jimmy Palmer in this house. She had no doubts that they’d have a beautiful life raising their family in this home.

She finally spoke after a long moment of silence. “You know you don’t have to be in such a big rush to get that crib assembled. She’ll be sleeping in that cradle in our bedroom for a little while at least. So, it’s not like the crib has to be ready right this instant.”

Jimmy let out a heavy sigh as the words left him, his cheek remaining rested against her belly. “I know, I just know we’ll be sleep-deprived once she’s here though. I just don’t want it to get shoved to the backburner and for us to be too exhausted to actually get everything together. I don’t want us to feel rushed when she’s ready to leave the bassinet in our room and move to the nursery.”

He spoke again not afraid to admit the core cause of his hastiness to get the nursery set up. “I just want everything to be perfect for her when we bring her home. She deserves to have everything be as close to perfect as possible.”

Olivia spoke knowing the right thing to say in response. “We’re going to be bringing our daughter home. That’s perfect enough all on it’s own.”

He couldn’t stop the dopey smile from crossing his lips or the feeling of adoration from blooming in his heart at her statement. A daughter; he was having a daughter.

He knew he would have been overjoyed no matter what they had. There was something that seemed so wonderful about having a daughter though. He couldn’t help but to think it would be a tiny version of Olivia. The idea sounded perfect to him.

Olivia spoke again making him smile all the more. “You know if you work yourself up this much each time you assemble a crib we might be in trouble since I’m going to need to count on you to do this a few more times in the future.”

He felt the words leave him unable to stop himself. “I thought you told me you’d murder me if I ever got you pregnant ever again.”

She snorted at this fast to respond. “You should know by now that my threats mean nothing. I’m too spineless for murder. I’d miss you too much if I killed you, besides I doubt I’d get away with it. I was only saying that during the first trimester when I puked 24/7. It’s hard not to want more kids with you when I saw how adorable you were opening that package of baby stuff your mom brought us.”

He felt the smile cross his lips again knowing just what package she was talking about. His mother had brought the box with her during a visit a few months ago. The box contained a few Palmer family heirlooms that had been saved especially for this moment, including a soft yellow quilt that had rested in Jimmy’s nursery when he was a baby and a few books he’d loved as a child. There had also been something new, a little lilac dress that his grandmother had sewn especially for Baby Palmer. The one thing that had made him really weepy though had been a bit silly. It was a stuffed animal that had been his when he was a child. His mother had carefully cleaned it making sure it was suitable for her granddaughter. It was a worn and well loved blue stuffed bunny.

He could remember the bunny well. He’d been overly attached to it as a child. His childhood had at times been turbulent, at least when it came to his father’s violence and tendency to take that violence out on Jimmy’s mother. Though Jimmy’s mother had always tried to protect Jimmy and his sister from their father, Jimmy still had witnessed more than enough. Jimmy had found himself often clinging to that bunny in those moments, the toy making him feel safe. Even after his father had died when he was ten and he’d decided he was far too old for a stuffed animal the bunny had still meant something to him. It had provided him comfort and security.

One look at the bunny and all Jimmy had been able to picture had been his daughter cuddling the bunny. He knew it would mean the world to him being able to pass on such a beloved childhood stuffed animal to his child. He knew that his little girl wouldn’t have to cling to the bunny as a response to fear and heartache. He’d do whatever it took to make sure his daughter had a childhood that was unlike the first ten years of his life. He knew she’d see the stuffed animal not as a security blanket to cope with trauma but as a toy that brought her joy. He would be able to share something he’d loved so dearly with her.

The bunny had actually served as the inspiration behind the choice on what theme they wanted to go with for the nursery. It had been Jimmy’s idea and Olivia had readily agreed when he’d brought up the idea of bunnies and other forest themed things as a decorating theme for the nursery.

Olivia spoke, continuing to stroke his hair. “How could I resist the idea of doing this with you a couple of more times when I saw you get so soft and adorable over everything in that box.”

Jimmy replied, not helping but to ask. “So you’d go through it all more than once?”

He had to ask. The pregnancy had been a bit rough at least in that very first trimester. Her morning sickness had felt more like all day sickness and she’d been so exhausted.

The worst had come one time when Jimmy had come home from work not having a chance to shower yet. Olivia had caught a whiff of the scent of decay that occasionally came along with Autopsy when Jimmy had pressed a kiss to her cheek and she’d barely made it to the kitchen sink where she’d emptied the contents of her stomach. Jimmy had of course felt horrible and he’d only felt worse as she’d begun to cry exclaiming that she was a “jerk” and she wasn’t puking because he kissed her, she swore. Needless to say, it had taken a lot of reassurance on Jimmy’s end to convince her that he understood. He’d started to use the hazmat shower at work before coming home after that incident. Dr. Mallard had thankfully been understanding when Jimmy brought up his reasoning for doing so.

Of course there were also the mood swings that had hit so hard throughout the pregnancy. Olivia cried at the drop of a hat over anything and everything. Jimmy felt lost as he made attempts to soothe her, occasionally making things worse due to her racing hormones and his occasional habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Thankfully though Olivia was always quick to forgive, of course that was after she sobbed and apologized, exclaiming that she couldn’t even remember why she was upset. Jimmy had quickly learned that it took a lot of reassurance from him in these moments. He’d worked hard to provide her with reassurance and understanding, knowing it was all he could do for her.

He was just trying his best to support her through it all.

To be honest Olivia’s pregnancy had been a bit of a rollercoaster. The most surprising symptom she’d dealt with was an overactive libido. It had seemed that every little thing Jimmy did had made Olivia want him so badly she couldn’t stand it. He could be doing something as innocent as shaving in the morning and she would find herself overwhelmed with how much she wanted him. Jimmy had been happy to comply, of course that had only been after he’d had the reassurance from her OBGYN that sex was a perfectly safe activity. He’d been told that as long as she was comfortable and she wasn’t experiencing any pain and avoiding putting pressure on her stomach then they were fine. They’d had to get a little creative with their positions given her belly, but they’d figured out something that worked for them both.

Jimmy hadn’t minded the occasional clinginess that had also come along with her pregnancy. When she didn’t want sex, she wanted to be as close as possible to him. She just wanted to be held. He’d never complain when she wanted to cuddle with him even if it meant her embracing him and clinging to him the second he walked through the front door.

Olivia spoke fast to reassure him. “I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Even the vomiting. It hasn’t all been bad. I’ve liked some of it.”

Jimmy smiled knowing what her favorite moments had been. They had been his favorite moments too. They had been when they would lie in bed at night. He would rest his head against her belly talking to their baby, his voice low and sweet as he told their daughter about his day, well a heavily edited version of his day given he didn’t actually want to share the darker aspects of his job with her. She loved talking about baby names together and planning all the things they wanted for their daughter.

As difficult as her pregnancy had been it was all filled with plenty of joy.

He couldn’t stop himself from pulling his head from her belly, his lips pressing to hers the kisses soft as he spoke. “How many kids are you thinking? I need to know what I’m in for.”

She returned his kisses, the answer coming to her so easily. “As many as you’ll give me.”

He managed to speak the response spilling from him as he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers. “We might have to get a bigger house if that’s the case, or at least build on. We’re going to run out of bedrooms.”

She spoke a giggle leaving her as she pressed her lips back to his. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” He replied without hesitation only pulling from her lips briefly.

They shared more kisses, easily growing lost in the moment.

They only parted as a familiar exasperated voice sounded out at the doorframe. “Seriously guys? Come on.”

Jimmy felt his cheeks flush as he spotted Tony leaning against the doorframe rolling his eyes at the scene he’d walked in on.

He spoke again shaking his head. “You two are gross. I keep telling you that I don’t need a demonstration of how Baby Gremlin was made.”

Olivia rolled her eyes at this comment fast to reply. “For the last time can you not call your niece Baby Gremlin.”

“I say it with all the love in the world.” Tony insisted.

He spoke again before Olivia had a chance to comment on his choice in a nickname. “Anyway, come on, dinner is here and everyone should be here soon. I would have been here sooner but the pizza place was running slow.”

Jimmy was fast to stand up grabbing ahold of Olivia’s hand gently working to help her stand up from the rocking chair knowing her center of gravity was thrown off thanks to her belly.

He spoke once he was sure she was stood up and steady. “You good?”

“I’m fine. You know I used to walk on cobblestone pathways in 5 inch stilettos back when I still went clubbing.” Olivia pointed out Jimmy letting out a chuckle, his lips pressing to her cheek.

“Sorry, I worry.” He insisted.

He spoke again nodding to Tony as Olivia moved to leave the nursery. “I’ll be down in a minute. Tony can I talk to you real quick?”

Jimmy gave Olivia a reassuring nod trying his best to convince her that things were fine between Tony and he and he wasn’t about to get himself murdered. “We’ll be quick.”

Olivia rose an eyebrow nodding her head as she headed out the room. “Okay, please don’t kill each other.”

Tony spoke once he was sure Olivia was out of sight. “So what’s going on Mini-Mallard?”

Jimmy took a deep breath his stomach in knots as he tried to gather his courage to do this. “I-I I’m not sure how to even start.”

He took another deep breath knowing that he just had to let it all out. “I know that I’m not the guy you’d choose for your sister.”

“Jimmy I-” Tony started to say Jimmy fast to speak again, not giving him a chance to continue.

“I know that you’d never pick me for her. I can promise you though that I love her more than anything on this planet. I know you’re important to her. Which is why I need to talk to you about this.”

He took another deep breath as he spoke again. “I know traditionally I would talk to her father about this...but uh Dinozzo Senior doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about me. Oli says that I should take his lack of enthusiasm as a compliment.”

He paused again, trying his best to gather his nerve and keep eye contact with Tony. It was best not to let him know he was intimidated. “I love her, Tony. I love her so much it takes my breath away sometimes. I know how much she means to you which is why I feel like I should come to you and ask this. I want to start by saying that I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my life doing whatever it takes to make sure that our baby and her are always cared for and cherished. Even though I know I’m not the man you would choose for Olivia I’m hoping that I can have your blessing in my plans to ask Olivia to marry me.”

He was almost sure his heart was beating so quickly he could hear it. He spoke again stumbling over his words fearing that Tony’s silence meant the worst. “I-I know it’s not...uh Olivia’s not a traditional woman she prob-probably wouldn’t appreciate me asking like she has nothing to do with her decision bu-”

“Jimmy, stop.” Tony spoke not letting him continue.

Tony took Jimmy by surprise giving him a hug giving his back a firm pat. The hug didn’t last long Tony releasing him as he spoke. “Yes you can have my blessing.”

He cleared his throat as he spoke. “For the record Palmer you might not be the guy I would have picked, but it could have been a lot worse. It could have been Probie. If I had to pick a future brother-in-law, I’m glad it’s you Autopsy Gremlin.”

Jimmy felt the smile cross his lips at the words. It wasn’t exactly a glowing acceptance of him in Olivia’s life, but he was pretty sure this was Tony’s way of welcoming him to the family.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jimmy couldn’t wipe the smile of his face as he sat at his dining room table surrounded by the people he loved the most and far too much food.

The conversation at the table was as lively as it usually was when they all got together.

He couldn’t stop himself from taking Olivia’s hand in his he gently squeezing it. He was unable to stop himself from leaning over his lips pressing to her cheek.

Of course this caught the attention of Tony who was fast to speak. “Seriously Palmer, at the dinner table?”

Ziva gave his arm a slap fast to speak. ‘Oh, stop, it is very sweet.”

“Yeah they’re expectant parents, let them be adorable.” Abby insisted as she took far too many sips of soda for the overly large cup she’d brought with her.

Ducky spoke latching on to the subject. “Speaking of, have you picked a name for Baby Palmer yet?”

Jimmy spoke so fast to speak unable to hide the enthusiasm from his voice. “Yes we have. It’s actually kind of a funny story.”

He paused clearing his throat glancing at Olivia double checking that he was okay to continue. He spoke again as she gave him a gentle nod of approval as he allowed the story to leave him. “It all ties back to our first kiss. I uh...we went to get ice cream and it started raining. We were blocks away from our car so we had to hide under this awning for this building that was for lease. I just looked down at her, and one thing led to another. I did what I'm been dying to do for months. I thought I’d totally ruined everything.”

He paused his cheeks flushing as Olivia spoke continuing the story. “I had to reassure him that I had been flirting with him for a while now so it was about time he kissed me.”

Jimmy spoke clearly able to see that everyone was a bit lost as to what any of this had to do with how they’d picked their unborn child’s name. “We didn’t look back after that. Anyway a few months ago we just happened to drive by that awning and it’s now a candle and gift shop. It’s called Autumn Wind Gifts and Candles...so we decided that it was a sign.”

Olivia spoke unable to keep the smile off her lips. “We’re naming her Autumn. Autumn Mallory Palmer.”

“Mallory?” Ducky questioned Jimmy and Olivia sharing a smile Jimmy fast to speak.

“We hope you don’t mind. It’s just that uh...well in my time working as your assistant I have grown to see you as more than a mentor and a friend but as the closest thing to a father I’ve ever known. Olivia and I have been talking and can’t think of anyone who we’d rather have our daughter named for.”

Dr. Mallard couldn’t hide the tears from his eyes as he spoke. “I’d be honored Mr. Palmer.”

Tony was fast to speak raising his glass. “Even though I’m bummed that Toni didn’t make the cut, I’d like to propose a toast to my niece. To Autumn Mallory Palmer.”

Everyone obliged to the toast the conversation picking back up.

Olivia spoke a sigh leaving her as the conversation died down. “Okay, I vote we get these plates cleared and get started on that nursery.”

Jimmy was fast to stand helping her get up from her seat as he spoke trying not to look too sheepish. “I’m warning you the instruction to that crib are a nightmare.”

Abby, Ziva, and McGee moved fast to help Olivia clear the table.

Jimmy felt his heart overflow with adoration as he moved to assist. He didn’t think this day could get any better.

He was about to eat his words though as he heard a frantic call from the kitchen. “Jimmy!”

He dropped the paper plate he’d been holding rushing to the kitchen his heart slamming in his chest his mind going a mile a second.

He stared wide eyed at his girlfriend and his frantic coworkers. Olivia stared up at him her hand clutching her belly her words frantic. “I’m having contractions. I think it’s time.”

Jimmy felt the words leave him he frantic. “It’s go time, baby time, our baby. It’s time, I gotta get our suitcases!’

It was go time. It was time for Autumn Mallory Palmer to join her family.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………….

To say labor and delivery was intense would be an understatement. Jimmy was almost amazed Olivia hadn’t broken his hand with how hard she was squeezing it.

It had been a long process, a long exhausting process. It had gone slow at first and then when it was time to push it had seemed to go by so fast. Early labor had seemed to move so slowly. They’d spent the time resting, walking the halls of the labor and delivery wing of the hospital. Then once her water had broken things had still been slow but they’d been so intense. The actual delivery had moved so quickly though. It was almost unbelievable. There had been so much pain and chaos and then an overwhelming feeling of love and peace the second their daughter had entered the world.

Jimmy would be lying if he ever tried to claim he hadn’t cried tears of joy at the sound of her cries and at the sight of her. His hands had shaken as he’d cut the umbilical cord. It was as though every single bit of medical knowledge he’d had had left his brain as he’d cut that cord, it seeming so frightening and so overwhelming. Part of him was convinced he’d somehow hurt her.

She was beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Even covered in afterbirth and screaming her lungs out she was the most stunning sight Jimmy had ever seen.

When he’d held her in his arms the first time more tears had come. He’d wanted nothing more than to hold her against him and protect her. He’d held her against him the words leaving him as he spoke to her. “I love you. I love you so much Autumn.”

The words had left him as he stared down at Olivia their newborn daughter in her arms. “Thank you, thank you so much. She’s so perfect. You’re so perfect. You were amazing. I love you both so much.”

The tears had come for Olivia too she unable to describe the feeling that had washed over her as her daughter had been placed in her arms. She felt complete. It was the only way she could think to describe it.

As she’d stared down at Autumn and up at Jimmy she knew her life was so complete.

Olivia was getting her rest and Autumn was as well. Jimmy was thankful that the nurses had been kind enough to bring her to the room for a little while at least. Jimmy wasn’t looking forward to her going back to the hospital nursery but he knew the nurses would insist upon it soon so they could get all get some rest without fretting over the baby. Jimmy knew he should be getting his rest as well. He’d need it.

His mind was so full though. It had been such a long day full of emotional highs. He couldn’t take his mind off the velvet box resting in his suitcase at the moment. He was almost surprised he’d thought to grab it when he’d gathered their baby go bags.

He was surprised by the sound of her voice. “Jimmy.”

He stood up so fast he almost tripped over his own feet as he made his way over to her bed. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

“I’m good. Don’t get me wrong, I’m hurting. I think I’ll be okay though. Is Autumn okay? Have you gotten any sleep?” She asked staring up at him.

He reached down smoothing back her hair not helping but to say it. “Can’t sleep. She’s asleep. You look beautiful.”

“I went through over eight hours of active labor. I doubt I look great right now.” She remarked Jimmy chuckling at this.

He leaned down pressing his lips to her temple. “And that makes you all the more beautiful.”

He continued to stroke her hair she speaking trying not to fall back to sleep. “You should get some sleep. We’re going to need all the sleep we can get.”

“I will later I promise.” he reassured her.

He leaned down his lips pressing to hers a voice in the back of his head telling him this was the perfect time for this.

He pulled from the kiss the words leaving him. “Give me a second.”

She frowned confused as she watched him go to their suitcases digging through them frantically before he made his way back over to her.

He cleared his throat praying this was the right time for this. “I love you. I love you so much. I once told you that my heart belongs to yours and I think that’s still true. I still remember the day we met. You stepped into that elevator and I knew I belonged to you. I was so disappointed when I found out you were Tony’s sister because I was so convinced you were unreachable. Then fate drew us together and I realized that I would do whatever it takes to be yours as long as you’ll have me. I knew I’d do whatever it took to be worthy of your love. You’re the love of my life and now you’re the mother to my child. I can’t imagine a life without you. You’re the woman of my dreams. I had plans to do this in a more romantic setting, but I think this is a pretty good setting for me to do this in. Olivia Sofia Dinozzo will you marry me?”

Olivia felt the tears leave her, her heart feeling even fuller than she’d thought possible. He didn’t even have a chance to open that velvet box he was holding before she spoke. ‘Yes, yes of course.”

He managed to open the ring box slipping the diamond ring on her finger, their lips meeting. He spoke his voice filled with emotion between kisses. “It took me so long to find a ring. I was terrified of getting something you wouldn't like.”

“I love it. I’d love it even if you proposed with a ring pop.” Olivia insisted his lips meeting hers again.

They only pulled apart as their daughter’s cries sounded out.

Jimmy scrambled to go to the hospital bassinet, he gently picking her up, his voice soft. “Hey, come on now. I’ve got you. I’m here. Dad’s here. Come on let's go see Mommy.”

He made his way over to Olivia placing Autumn in her arms he unable to stop himself from pressing a kiss to her temple as she adjusted holding their daughter against her.

Jimmy stared down at them both, his heart aching with adoration.

As Olivia smiled up at him her heart aching just as much.

When she’d gone to visit her brother at NCIS headquarters she had never imagined that this would be in her future.

Jimmy had certainly never imagined that when the pretty girl had stepped on the elevator that day that she would one day be the mother to his child and his future wife as well.

This wasn’t what either of them had expected but it was everything they could have ever possibly dreamed of.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Hey, Little Songbird

Chapter 4 - AO3

           Lunch with Dupain-Cheng was surprisingly pleasant. She was a talented girl, having no trouble detailing her various accomplishments, designing for Jagged Stone and winning his uncle’s hat contest, but remaining humble all throughout. Almost too humble, amounting some of her success to luck and good timing. She seemed used to undervaluing herself, but there was away to find out for sure.

           “Dupain-Cheng, I find myself impressed by your skills. While this is not public knowledge, my mother’s birthday is soon—” It was not, but she didn’t need to know that—“and I would like to commission a dress from you. How much do you charge for a consultation? If I have enough on my person, we could do it now.”

           She paused, surprised. “I… don’t. usually I make my friends things for free, let alone charge them for a consultation.”

           Felix frowned. “As… odd as a business practice that is, I cannot allow you to work on my behalf and not pay you for it.”

           “Really, I must insist.” Her smile wavered.

           “And so do I. Which means, we are at an impasse. Perhaps we can save the discussion for a later date?”

           “My answer’s not going to change.”

           “Perhaps, but… the time will give me a chance.” Felix looked at her, resolved. “You seem to be under the impression that I am like the other… simpletons in your class. Allow me to reassure you; that is not the case. From previous statements, it can be assumed that your classmates have taken advantage of your generosity before, correct?”

           “I wouldn’t call it that…”

           “Yet that is what happened. Supplying presents for birthdays or occasional gifts is one thing, but you make it sound like you’ve been regularly providing your craft for free.”

           “They… can’t afford commission prices all the time. I can understand that.”

           Felix scoffed. “Francis-Dupont is a private school, yet they can’t afford commission prices that, based on your behavior, are actually far lower than someone of your skill should be paid? If they can’t afford to buy something, then they shouldn’t ask for it. It’s common sense.”

           “Friends do things for free sometimes!”

           “Don’t you mean all the time? And despite my previous lack of friendships, its to my understanding that these things are supposed to be small, like babysitting once in a blue moon or bringing snacks to a study session, not working on clothing that has stolen hours of your time and effort.”

She faltered for a moment, her eyes growing wide. “You’ve never—” She shook her head. “It’s not like they’re asking for entire wardrobes or something!” She snapped. “Besides, they haven’t asked for anything since… since Lila convinced them I was bullying her.”

           “Good for them. But that is not the point I was trying to make. The point is that I am not the type of person to take advantage like that.”

           She glared. “And what kind of person are you then?”

           Felix smirked. He liked it when she got angry. It was so much more fun than her sadness. “The kind that appreciates good work. And that is willing to pay for it.” He smirked. “Now, your consultation price?”

           Dupain-Cheng was not happy—no, that was easy to see with her glare—but she resigned herself to letting him pay for the consultation, though there was no doubt in Felix’s mind that she’d put up another fight when it came time to actually pay for the piece. Felix… liked it. It was so rare that he got to properly outtalk someone who had a chance at winning. Even working past her being taken advantage of was exciting; he barely even noticed he was helping her.

           That in and of itself was concerning, but not to a greater degree. There was no hardship in this—at most he was just talking to her. He was protecting a future investment. There was no doubt in his mind that Dupain-Cheng would be a fantastic fashion designer one day, surpassing even his uncle. And if she felt kindly towards him…

           They finished the consultation with ten minutes of lunch to spare, having decided on a stylist beaded jacket. Their dishware was deposited in the downstairs kitchen where M. Dupain was frosting a dozen cupcakes and they began their short walk back to the school. It was a productive lunch, one of the better ones in more resent weeks. Before the change in schools, Felix often ate lunch quickly and relocated to the library for work. During the two months he was out of school taking care of his dying father, he ate lunch alone in their manor, with his mother often too busy to make time for the midday meal. But now, here in Paris… he figured he could get used to lunches like this, if Dupain-Cheng continued to be entertaining.

           Together, they walked into class only to be met with a crowd surrounding the crying Lila girl. The girl looked up as they entered and her face morphed into a smirk before falling back into self-made despair. “M-Marinette!!” Felix sneered. She couldn’t even studder correctly. “How could you say those mean things about me!”

           Dupain-Cheng sighed, already resigned to the situation. “What things?”

           “You! You don’t even remember!?” Lila choked on a sob. Her face wasn’t even wet. “You cornered me in the bathroom at lunch and said—” A sniffle—“And said you were going to make me lose all my friends! How could you!?”

           “Yes, Dupain-Cheng, how could you?” Felix repeated, sarcasm clear in his voice. Dupain-Cheng whipped around to glare at him. “Teleporting back to school during our conversation to threaten someone, made even more impressive by the fact that I only took my eyes off you for a second. The gall. The audacity.”

           The crowd seemed shaken, as if they’d not remembered watching Dupain-Cheng leave out the front door. Perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps the liar made them so incensed they didn’t care. Either way, doubt seemed to seep into the students, with a handful—a red-headed boy, a pink-haired short girl—throwing suspicious glances at Rossi.

           Still, one had to admire Rossi’s ability to regain everyone’s sympathy. She pointed a shaky figure at him. “Y-You’re covering for her! I hear you talk to her as she left; you were probably guarding the bathroom door!”

           Felix scoffed. “Yes, because I have nothing better to do than play lacky to someone I met today and skulk outside the woman’s bathroom.” He brushed past Dupain-Cheng, heading towards his seat. “Perhaps if you used your brain, you would have asked if anyone had seen me leave with Dupain-Cheng. And, in fact! Someone has.” He gestured towards Adrien, who’d stayed silent up until this time. “So, dear cousin, want to tell anyone where I’ve been lately? Or does that require growing a spine?”

           Adrien shot him a dirty look, but addressed the class. “He’s telling the truth; I saw them leave together for the Dupain-Cheng bakery.”

           The wind was taken out of the class’s collective anger and they started to disperse, a few even apologizing to Dupain-Cheng as she returned to her seat next to him. Rossi looked furious, as the Lady Wifi girl tried to comfort her by saying she probably mistook someone else for Marinette and it was going to be alright. Felix was sure she was going to start another tantrum when Mme Bustier entered the room to continue school.

           Felix was ready to start taking notes in his leather-bound journal when a piece of paper brushed his arm. Dupain-Cheng had poked him with her spiral notebook, the only thing upon the page being the words “Thank you.” Her writing was rather beautiful, Felix noticed distantly. He met her eyes and she smiled, small but sweet. He nodded in return, pushing the notebook back towards her.

           It was nothing to thank him over, he told himself. He just couldn’t stand such obvious lies.

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[sockablock]

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Chapter 4: Just a Parlor Trick

“—and this is your room! Or it will be, soon, once we get your stuff moved in.”

A blur of curls flew past Nott and dove headfirst onto the bare mattress. Two-feet-two of little halfling boy sprung up, danced around in a circle, and surveyed his new kingdom by bouncing on the bed.

It was—as Nott would be the first to admit—pretty bare at the moment. Caleb had already taken all of his belongings, but there hadn’t been that much to begin with. Aside from the bed-now-turned-trampoline, there was just an oak wardrobe, and a rug. The only other fixture of note was the window, framed by thin blue drapes, currently open and letting in the sea breeze.

“What do you think, Luc?” Yeza grinned from the doorframe. “How do you like it?”

“The ocean is so cool!” Luc’s hair flew around in a storm as he jumped. “And the people—there’s so many people, Dad! That big turtle at the restaurant—his back had a pipe in it!”

Nott felt the ghost of a touch on her arm. When she caught Yeza’s tentative expression, she forced herself to relax into it.

The illusion had held so far, hadn’t it? And besides, her husband already knew the truth.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” Then she gave her son a smile. “And what do you think about the house, sweetie? Do you like your room?”

Luc, mid-air, gave this some thought.

“It’s smaller than my old room,” he said. “The window is bigger. Can I put my pictures up?”

There was a box of posters somewhere in the moving van. Apparently, some time in the last three years, Luc had gotten incredibly invested in a semi-popular cartoon series featuring a team of adventurers who solved mysteries in the Marrow Valley. Yeza had told her during one of their rare reunions that the clerk at the store was all but giving them away; something about increasing promotional awareness.

“Of course you can put your pictures up, Luc.”

He beamed a freckled, toothy smile.

“I like it, Mom! Can I put them up now?”

— — —

Jester hummed cheerfully to herself as she made her way through the streets of Nicodranas.

The novelty of such an act was not lost on her, and not just because she’d spent most of her life indoors—the last time she’d hurried down a road like this, it’d been under much less enjoyable circumstances.

But Jester had more tricks up her sleeves these days, and skipping between street merchants and bustling crowds, weaving through the Opal Archways in the middle of rush hour, she was certain she could hide from any watching eyes.

She squeezed the picnic basket in her arms, packed tight with the best pastries money could buy. She’d keep an eye out, too, for that little sidewalk café that did the strawberry-mango drinks Momma liked, though Jester suspected that her mother was just feigning enthusiasm to get her to eat more fruit.

The stoplight above flickered twice, then turned green. She looked both ways, then skipped across the street.

Maybe she should make a stop for sandwiches. And flowers, while she was at it—and over there, a book sale! Now that Jester was finally back home, with the Chateau such an easy walk from her apartment, every weekend she did her best to bring the whole city to her mother’s boudoir.  

Not that—and here she giggled at the thought—Momma needed any help there.

The Ruby of the Sea was busy, after all. Just not too busy for her little sapphire.

— — —

The thing was, Essek’s mother was busy.

She was always busy, and with good reason at that; for longer than Essek had even been alive—and how much longer before that, gods knew—Deirta Thelyss had been the Umavi of Den Thelyss, and therefore a permanent and immovable fixture in the intricate political dance of the Kryn Dynasty.

In another life, perhaps, Essek might have followed in her footsteps and joined her in running the country—though, if she got her way, there was a good chance that he ultimately would. But, as the Dynasty and Empire so far had managed to maintain a tenuous hold on peace, currently there was little need for a person of Essek’s particular talents.

The irony of that statement occasionally made him want to laugh, though he didn’t much feel like laughing now. It had taken a considerable amount of willpower to even drag him over to his desk, and there he sat with his forehead to the surface, lamenting that going back to bed hadn’t solved his problems.

Why was Mother bothering to attend the upcoming Clovis Concord Gala? Not a single one of these coastal cities was closely allied with the Dynasty, and the sheer geographical distance between them made the two nations vaguely aware of each other at best. In fact, Essek had chosen Nicodranas specifically because of how little the Bright Queen cared about it.

Which meant the unavoidable fact of the matter was that Mother was coming just for him.

The wood of his desk was cold on his head. If she were here now, she’d tell him to sit up.  

Actually, she’d probably say much more than that. If Verin was telling the truth—and his brother had always been on his side when it came to Mother— fending off another round of her attempts to force him home would only be half the struggle.

He kicked his chair back and listened to the way his wheels slid across the floor. Distantly, he could just make out some muted shuffling coming from the kitchen, and he had to remind himself that it was probably not a burglar, but Caleb.

Today was his second day in the apartment, and the man would probably need a few days to settle in. Though, Essek noted with a hint of satisfaction, Caleb seemed like a very efficient person. He’d actually…quite enjoyed their negotiation last night, despite how long it ended up being. For just a few hours his fear of an impending maternal maelstrom had been staved off by the way Widogast sometimes quirked his eyebrow while he was reading, or by the way he’d gently tap the clip of his borrowed pen with his thumb…

Essek had let him keep it, afterwards. He hadn’t even considered doing otherwise.

And as that thought crossed his mind, his restful silence was shattered by a crash.

— — —

“Knock-knock, Momma!”

“Ah, Jester! Come in! Close the door behind—oh, bother.”

This was immediately followed with the sound of air snapping to fill a void, then another minor explosion accented by four scrabbling paws.

“Nugget! Oh, Nuggy, I’ve missed you so much—”

Marion Lavore hiked up her skirts and gently side-stepped the slobber on the floor. She made her way back to her chaise lounge just a moment after Jester peeled herself from the dog.

“He’s getting quite big,” her mother said, artfully removing the exhaustion from her tone. But two decades of living under Momma’s roof gave Jester all the hint that she needed.

“Oh, I want to take him back, I really do, but the apartment doesn’t let us have dogs.” Jester sank into a plush sofa with Nugget wagging his tail at her heels. He put his head in her lap and drooled.

“And…your luck with finding a…a new apartment?”

“We’ve all been busy, Momma,” Jester sighed. “Beau is working all day long to set up a new library by the Quay, and Yasha disappears all the time even though she’s…feeling better now. I think it’ll be a while until everything’s calmed down and we can look.”

Marion pointedly did not think about the many curtains that Nugget had already eaten in three months.

“Ah, well. I understand. And how are you doing, my sweet?”

Jester giggled. “I’m doing good! I’ve been drawing and painting a lot by the sea, and keeping busy with other arts and crafts. Did you know people on the Internet will buy dozens of tiny clay dick statues? The Traveler thought it was very funny.”

Her mother’s expression was an ocean of calm. “Oh, is that…is that so? Well, I’m glad to hear you’re finding ways to…spend your day.”

“I brought some to show you!”

“Oh, how...lovely…”

“Some paintings, Momma.” Jester set aside the picnic basket and fished around in her knapsack. The bag was a horrifically pink mess of burlap and loud, jangly pins. Jester had to shove aside quite a few rolls of brushes and capped paints as she searched.

Marion watched her work with interest. “Well, even if you had brought a…the statue, I would—oh, Jester. It’s beautiful!”

Jester beamed as her mother took the canvas, gingerly like it was—and it was—fine art.

In her hands, a stunning landscape of the sea beside Nicodranas at dawn, pale pink light glancing off the tide and a thin breath of sun just above the water.

“It’s for you, Momma!”

“Oh, Jester, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Take it.” She laughed. “I have lots more at home, but this one’s my favorite so you should have it.”

Decades of living with a burgeoning artist had taught Marion not to hug the piece to her chest, though she quite wanted to.

“I’ll hang it up, then. In a place of honor,” she said seriously. “Maybe heading up the stairs? The light there is lovely, and that way I know the most important people will get to see it.”

Jester’s smile could have swallowed up the world. “Thanks, Momma.”

“No, thank you, my sweet. Now, come. What else have you been doing? What’s new and exciting with your…what did you call yourselves? The Mighty Nein?”

Jester helped her mother lay out a feast’s worth of pastries across the coffee table. Nugget eyed the bounty like a lit fuse until Jester also produced a chewing bone, which he gleefully snapped up and began to gnaw.

“I wanted to make sure we didn’t have a repeat of last time, so I stopped by a pet store,” she explained, munching on a strawberry tart. “And we’re all doing good! Caleb’s move went well, and Nott’s family just landed.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” her mother said. “You know, it would not have been a problem for them to stay with me. At least while they got settled.”

“I know, I know, but I think since she already had a place, she wanted them there, you know? And anyway, she said she didn’t want to impose.”

“Of course,” Marion nodded. “And perhaps the Chateau is…it would be a bit unconventional for a family to stay here, hm?”

“We did it!”

“We did, but we are an unconventional family.”

Jester laughed, then brushed a few crumbs off her skirt. “What have you been doing lately, Momma? Any news? Any interesting clients?” She waggled her eyebrows for emphasis.

“Well,” her mother smiled faintly, “actually, I…might have something interesting to tell you. I was, ah…well, I was invited to a party. To sing, but also as a guest.”

“What?!” Jester threw her hands in the air. “Oh, Momma, that’s amazing!”

“I, ah…might decline.”

Jester’s elation vanished instantly. “Oh, Momma. Is it…the outside…?”

Marion shrugged. It was a decidedly unrefined gesture, and left a little crinkle in her robe. “I’m just…well, you know I’ve made a little progress since you got back, but…I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d feel so comfortable being in a place like that alone.”

Jester reached across the table to pat her mother on the hand. “I understand. It’s probably just a dumb party anyway, I’m sure you won’t be missing much!”

“It’s…well, it’s the 400th Anniversary Gala of the Clovis Concord.”

“Oh, man.”

“Tell me about it, dear,” Marion sighed.

There was a moment’s pause, filled with the sound of thoughtful chewing.

And then:

“What if we went with you?”

Marion blinked twice.

“I beg your pardon?”

— — —

They left Luc in his new bedroom happily slapping tape to the wall. Yeza had been worried that this would damage the paint when they’d eventually have to take down his posters, but Nott reassured him that getting back the safety deposit for this apartment was already a lost cause.

“There was a…small incident,” she said, as he poured her tea, “involving electricity. And…a mild fire.”

“Oh, man. Did you guys blow the fuse box or something?”

Nott debated whether or not exploding a microwave with voltaic bolts fell under that category.

“Mm, yeah, it was something like that.” She watched him sink into the chair across the table, paying special attention to the way his glasses bounced on his nose.

He hadn’t needed glasses three years ago. He hadn’t been quite so pale, either.

“So, how is your friend Caleb?” Yeza asked, tilting his head slightly at her silence. “Is he alright? Settled in and everything?”

Nott quickly scrounged up her smile. “He is! Actually, his place is really nice. Cheap, too, from what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Yeza sipped his tea, leaving a little half-crescent above his lip. “I was worried about him. You told him for me, right? How much I appreciate this?”

“Of course I did. And I told him plenty that he didn’t have to, but he really insisted, and…well. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that he did.”

Yeza put a biscuit in her hands. “We’ll send him a fruit basket, then. With pineapples! Heck, I should send one to all of your friends, for pitching in for the plane tickets. They’re really kind.”

“They are pretty great, aren’t they?” Nott took a bite, coating her tongue with chalky crumbs. “They’ll probably be around at some point—they want to see you and the boy again.”

“Is the tall one still around? With the pink hair? I liked him.”

Nott gave a laugh. “I’ll tell him you said that. It’s been quiet these last few days, you know, so it’ll really be great to have the company back. Not that—oh, gods, not that you and Luc aren’t—”

“I get it, I get it,” Yeza shook his head. “Don’t worry. Like we said over the phone, right? It’ll take…there’ll be an adjustment period.”

Nott set her mug down on the table. Her smile was a little less firm now.

“You and Luc are here,” she said again, quietly. “You’re here, but I…I’m talking about my friends, I shouldn’t be saying those things, should I? I…should focus on you two—”

“Hey, no, Veth. Not at all.”

“But it is unfair,” she sighed. “I…sweetie, I’m so happy to see you, and the boy, but now that…Caleb’s gone, and the two of you have moved in, a…a part of me, an awful part of me, already misses—”

“Veth, it’s okay—"

“It’s not, I mean we’re married—gods, wait, I’d never betray—”

“Veth.”

A hand touched her shoulder. Yeza’s voice was low and soft. “Honey, it’s okay. It really is okay, and I…I know. It’s complicated. I know. We haven’t been a family for a while—and none of that is your fault, it just isn’t. It’s just…been a tough few years, for us, but also especially for you. I doubt I could’ve survived what you’ve been through, after all. And things have changed—I’ve changed, I mean—I snore again, and I’ve gotten used to Edith helping around our house, and…I guess what I’m trying to say, is that it’s only natural…it’s only fair, that you’re allowed to change too. It’s okay. We talked about this, right?”

“Right,” Nott murmured.

“So it’ll be okay. We’ll make it work. And it’s still you, right? You still love me, right?”

She felt herself nod. Then, gently, “I didn’t stop loving you.”

“Well, that’s good. Neither did I.”

This time, she risked a glance up, and saw his smile. Yeza’s smiles were always a little lop-sided, smushing his freckles, and crinkling one eye. She’d made fun of that when they were younger, and let go of a breath when she saw that hadn’t changed.

As she exhaled, she gave a nod. Then a chuckle.

“Right. Right. Of course we will. We’re…probably going to have to enroll Luc in school. It—it’s summer now, but when autumn swings around…what is he? In first grade? In second?”

Yeza laughed. “This fall will be his first year of school.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh, gods, it’s his first year of school. He…I don’t even know if he’s ready, if he’s…wait, is it different in Nicodranas? Are there tests? Is this a good school district, I—I didn’t even check—”

This time, it was Veth who stopped him. “Relax,” she said, and poked Yeza’s nose. “His dad is the most brilliant chemist in the world. We can look up all that other stuff.”

She brushed his cheek with her other thumb. “Like you said. We’ve got this. We’ll make it work.”

— — —

It had started with a recipe for blueberry muffins.

It had ended, more or less, somewhere around the time that Caleb realized neither he nor Essek owned measuring cups—and anyway, the blueberries were looking a little mushy so maybe he should wait until next week to surprise the Brenattos, that way he’d have a chance to get better ones, even though their move-in day was technically today—

And at that point, Frumpkin had jumped into the cabinet, dislodging what sounded like years’ worth of unused pots, knocking down an avalanche of dusty pans.

The last skillet clanged like thunder as it spun to a stop on the floor.

“Mist. Frumpkin—”

Ever the cat, Frumpkin deftly wove out of Caleb’s grasp and darted for the counter. He perched himself unblinking at the edge of the sink and licked his paw, as if for emphasis.

Caleb sighed. He crouched down to reach for the nearest displaced kitchen implement, a stock pot.

“You know,” he began, exasperated, “you could at least help me out with this mess.”

“Is that so?”

He whipped around so quickly that his head hit the handle of a drawer. One hand flew up, he startled, “Miste—Essek?”

His landlord raised a curved eyebrow. With the mid-afternoon light streaming in through the windows, the purplish tint to Essek’s complexion was something akin to a dusting of twilight. His hair was half-tousled, like it’d been mussed by something, and his hand lingered on the doorknob.

“I…my cat,” Caleb managed. “That is, er. I apologize. Deeply. For the commotion.”

Essek looked him over. “I thought we had agreed on silence last night, no?”

Caleb hung his head, and he could feel disappointment coming, undoubtedly with despair on its coattails.

“I have broken the terms,” he said mutely. “I…I am sorry. I understand what that means.”

His gaze clung to the polished floor. Which was why he missed it when the heavy stock pot took on a faint, shimmering, blueish glow. And then the saucepan began to shine. And then a wok, a spatula, a bowl—

All of the fallen cookware slowly began to rise through the air. As they moved, a parade past Caleb’s amazed expression, slipping by Frumpkin’s outstretched paw, each individual pot righted itself, formed into lines, then were quickly and neatly whisked away into the cabinet above.

The doors clicked as they shut.

“I…but that—what spell was that?”

Mentally, Caleb kicked himself. He should’ve apologized.

But Essek only chuckled. “Oh, that was just a parlor trick. An idle curiosity about the…shall we say, limits of gravity. Particularly regarding how easy they are to break.”

Caleb scrambled up to his feet. “But I have never seen control like that on such a grand scale before. Your spell, it—Telekinesis only controls one object at once.”

“Well,” Essek allowed himself a smirk. “Telekinesis is a watered-down version of what true dunamancy can accomplish. I will say, even getting that far was impressive. I have seen your documentation.”

“Gods,” though, Caleb noticed, there was not a trace of resentment in his tone. “Here I thought our transmutative literature was the most advanced there was.”

Essek shrugged. “Please, do not misunderstand me. It is good, for Empire wizards, especially. Until then, I had been under the impression that your lot only excelled at evocation.”

“We are a dab hand at necromancy too,” Caleb said dryly, “if the stories from twenty years ago are believed.”

This actually won a laugh. “Maybe I am the one being too cruel. It was your people who pioneered the earliest manipulations of air elemental magic, no? It is truly an interesting method for conquering gravity.”

“Yours is better,” Caleb said, before he could stop himself. “If you think that a parlor trick, my friend, I hesitate to ask else you could accomplish.”

“Why hesitate?”

And then, Caleb blinked. Somewhere in the distance, Frumpkin nudged his shoulder, but in that moment, all he could focus on was Essek.

“I…excuse me?”

And with that, the spell was broken. Essek slid into a kitchen chair.

“Nevermind, nevermind,” he waved his hand. “And please. Do not worry about that mess. I am not so unreasonable to think that accidents can never happen. Just, ah…you have been a wonderful roommate so far. In the future…?”

“You have my word,” Caleb said. He slipped the carton of slightly-mushy blueberries behind him.

“Excellent,” Essek nodded. “Well. If that is settled, I might sit here and, ah…get some work done?”

Caleb, dense as he was, got the message. “I just—of course, I will be gone in a moment, I’ll just put these things away—”

“No rush at all. I am not in any hurry.”

And indeed, whether or not Essek was just being polite, it did seem like the man was…a bit distracted. Caleb had no right to poke into his business, which was a violation of Section II, Subsection IV anyway, but he couldn’t help but ask Frumpkin to take the tiniest peek at Essek’s face.

Something was bothering his landlord. And for once, still basking in the afterglow of powerful magic, Caleb was almost sure it wasn’t him.

He found out just as he was heading to his room.

“Might I, ah, ask you a question?”

Caleb had enough composure to turn around at a normal person’s pace.

“Yes?”

Essek ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, it…it is more of a favor.”

“Oh,” said Caleb. And when more was required, “Yes?”

“Yes already?” He blinked. “But I did not say what it was.”

“I meant,” Caleb amended, leaning against his doorframe, “please describe this favor to me.”

“Ah,” said Essek. “Right. I, er…”

How in the gods’ names was he supposed to phrase something ridiculous as this?

“I wonder…” he tried, “that is…if you might…would it be…are you perhaps…are you busy this weekend?”

Whatever he was expecting, this absolutely was not it.

“I—no?” Caleb said, out of pure shock. Then he shook his head and added, “I do not think so, no.”

“Ah,” said Essek. Somehow he seemed even more uncomfortable now. “That is…excellent.” It did not sound excellent. “If…well, if that is the case, then…do you think you could…help me with something?”

Caleb waited patiently. “With something?”

“A date.”

“A what?”

“No—not—oh, gods, I am doing this wrong.” Essek actually put his head in his hands, and Caleb once again had to throttle his own surprise.

Then, in a move made by a part of him so bold he didn’t even know he still had it, Caleb re-entered the kitchen and down in the seat across from Essek.

“I think, perhaps you should start from the beginning.”

Essek nodded miserably. He breathed in.

“You are right, Caleb.”

He breathed out.

“So. It’s like this…”

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[deobienthusiast]

why so cold

• pairing: lee jaehyun (the boyz) x reader

• word count: 1,704 words

• genre: marriage!au, slight angst, fluff

• warnings: suggestive towards the end

• notes: requested by anon!! i hope you like it and thank you for requesting💙

When you got married to Hyunjae, you were the happiest you had ever been. That happy feeling didn’t last long. The Hyunjae you saw on your wedding day and for the next two years never once made another appearance. It was almost as if his attitude shifted after you left the honeymoon phase. He was always so focused on work. Work this and work that. It made you angry. Was this what your life would be like from here on out? You would question whether you had anything to do with the cold attitude he presented to you every time he laid eyes on you. What did you do? What could you do to fix it? You asked yourself these questions everyday and every night.

It got to the point where he was barely home. Work was everything. You sometimes wondered if he had a secret lover that was getting the affection and attention that you desperately craved. The only thing keeping you from leaving him was the strong feelings you had and still have that overtake any maliciousness towards the man. He was constantly on your mind, and the only time he wasn’t was when his friends’ wives were keeping you busy.

You had the day off from work, and you had cleaned the entire house. After finishing up the last room, Hyunjae walked through the door. He looked exhausted and pulled at his tie, loosening its grip from around his neck. He set down his work bag, took off his jacket and shoes before looking up at you. You kept your head down, wiping the countertops as he spoke.

“There’s a gala being thrown for the company tonight. They want us to bring our spouses, so I figured that you want to spend time with some of the wives.” Hyunjae told you.

You sighed. Spend time with some of the wives, but not with him.

“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.” You told him without looking up.

You didn’t get a response back as he headed for the stairs. You watched his figure disappear before putting away all the cleaning supplies. Heading up the stairs, you heard the shower running as you rummaged through your shared wardrobe before finding a dress Hyunjae had never seen you wear before. You took it into the guest bedroom, opting to get ready in there. You slipped the dress on, zipping it up as far as it could go in the back before putting on a pair of heels. You fixed up your hair and makeup as Hyunjae called out to you.

“We don’t want to be late,” He said hastily.

You bit back the need to throw out a snarky remark as you opened the door, carefully making your way down the stairs. As soon as you got to the bottom, you wiped at the dress, smoothing it out before lifting your head. Hyunjae’s eyes were already on yours before making their way down your body to take in the outfit. You made your way towards the door, nodding your head for him to follow you before he stopped you.

“Wait,” he said gently, before you felt his cold fingers skim the skin of your back. “The zipper wasn’t all the way up.”

You felt your cheeks burn as you nodded. “Thank you.”

The car ride to the gala felt like an eternity. No conversation was made other than the usual questions asking about work. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing like it used to be. When you got to the gala, you noticed some of the other wives talking with each other as you peeled off from Hyunjae to converse with them. You hugged them as they complimented the look you had while keeping a watchful eye of your husband.

“You look beautiful!” Hyunjae’s long time friend Juyeon told you as his wife nodded.

“Green is definitely your color.” His wife said.

You smiled at the two of them. “Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”

Changmin, Younghoon, and Sangyeon had joined in on the conversation with their wives. You all talked and joked, but you couldn’t get over how upsetting it was to see them dote on their wives and openly peck their cheek or wrap a comforting arm around their waist. You looked out into the sea of people that were at the gala and frowned when you couldn’t find your husband. After about an hour and a half of watching your husband’s friends be so warm and compassionate, you excused yourself from the conversation having seen enough for one night.

You exited the ballroom before following a long hallway up a flight of stairs. You opened the first door you saw as you stepped into an elegant looking conference room. Your feet carried you to the tall glass windows that made up one whole wall as you stared into the night.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Your husband’s voice rang through the room, making you jump.

You laid a hand over your rapidly beating heart as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I just needed some space.”

Hyunjae walked over to where you were standing as he looked out the windows at the same sight you were currently taking in.

“You look very beautiful, tonight.” Hyunjae said.

You brought your head down to look at the dress you were wearing before nodding.

“Thank you.” You told him.

He just nodded before looking back out the windows. The uneasy silence settled over the two of you again before the dam holding back everything you wanted to say broke.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Hyunjae.” You told him as you finally looked at him.

He frowned. “Do what?”

You motioned between the two of you. “This. This marriage. I feel like a business partner not your wife. You never make time for me. All you do is work day in and day out. Even then, you come home and your attitude is just awful. You barely talk to me and when you do it is short and curt, and it has an awful taste to it. I needed to get out of that ballroom because all it does is remind me of the marriage we once had when you were compassionate, caring, doting. Now it’s like I have to schedule a damn appointment just to have a good conversation with you. I’m just tired of seeing what I want unfold in front of me between different people.”

You took a shaky breath as you spoke your next words slowly, looking him straight in the eyes. “Do you even love me anymore?”

Hyunjae’s eyes widened at your statement as he turned you towards him, grabbing both of your hands.

“Of course I do. Of course I love you. You are my life. Everything I do, I do for you. You mean the world to me. I just,” He paused as if he was trying to find the right words to say. “I never realized how invested I got into my work, and because of it you are now questioning my love for you. I’ve failed as a husband. I never ever wanted to make you feel like I don’t love you because I do. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you when we first met that I wanted to marry you. I’m sorry that I’ve never treated you the way you deserve to be treated these past couple of months, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything at all. I’ll go downstairs right now, and I’ll tell my boss that I’m quitting.”

You felt yourself laugh at his ending statement as you wiped at the now existent tears making their way down your cheeks. Hyunjae let go of one of your hands as he brought his hand to cup your face. He used the pad of his thumb to wipe at the tears as you leaned into his touch. It felt so good to hear him tell you how much he loves you, or to even feel him touch you. You opened your eyes as you looked into his, making him give you the sweetest smile. The exact same smile you fell in love with.

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you, to prove that I still do love you and always will.” Hyunjae said as he let go of your other hand, and brought it around your waist, pulling you into him.

“Anything?” You asked him.

He nodded. “Anything. You name it.”

You turned your head to look out the window as if to think about it before looking back at him and speaking. “A vacation.”

Hyunjae grinned as he nodded. “Absolutely, I’ll let my boss know.”

He went to pull away before you secured a grip around him, keeping him in place.

“Well, you don’t have to tell him right now. Just hold me.” You whispered out.

Hyunjae smiled, pecking your forehead before speaking. “I can do more than that.

He grasped your chin, lifting it up before placing his lips on yours. Hyunjae gave you a kiss that effectively made you weak at the knees and took your breath away. When you pulled away, he groaned as he spoke.

“Now that I think about it, there’s a lot more I can do, but it requires us at home and this dress on the floor.” Hyunjae whispered as you felt his hand mess with the zipper on the back of your dress.

You let out a laugh as you pushed him away before grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the conference. You led him down the stairs before stopping.

“Find your boss, ask him for vacation time, and if you manage to behave until we get home, then I might just reward you.” You told him with a wink.

Hyunjae’s eyes widened as he rushed through the crowd of people, attempting to find his boss. When he finally got back to you, the ride home was like a race against time for Hyunjae, and the dress didn’t manage to stay on before you got through the front door. All that mattered to you was you got your husband back.

[manabombs]

doing this meme for mr captain jack rackham because I think i’m finally ready to try to articulate my feelings, even if no one asked (i’m sorry this post is so long)

Why I like them:  So... here’s the thing... 

I’m kind of known for dressing like a fancy gay pirate. I’ve made a lot of cosplays over the years, but my pirate outfits are what I’m most infamous for. I met my partner over a decade ago while dressed like a fancy gay pirate. Many of my friends have seen me in pirate outfits more often then they’ve seen me in normal person clothing. Once upon a time I went to art school to study fashion design and I said “yes this is the aesthetic I’m going to cultivate” and now here we are. 

When I first heard that they were making a big budget period drama that was a prequel to Treasure Island, I knew that it was going to be My Next Hyperfixation, long before I had any notion of how much queer representation there would be or even how well-written the show would be. But it took me a couple years to finally feel like I was Emotionally Ready to delve into the series (Sometimes I’m bummed that I missed out on participating in the fandom while the show was actively airing, but I’m also glad that I was able to binge it all in its entirely, because the time waiting between seasons would have made me too crazy). 

And within those first two or three episodes, I saw that greasy rat man with his mullet and his avant garde facial hair choices and whatever the hell was going on with his wardrobe

and I said to myself “wait... Calico Jack... as in, the pirate known for his fashion sense...”

and I had one of those moments where I realized that this character was so much My Type that I was mad at myself for being so predictable. and I questioned some of the life choices that I made that led me to the point that this greasy rat man the sort of character that I immediately knew that I was going to fall in love with.

But that was only the beginning, because as I watched more of the series, I related to him more and more-- I think it was mannerisms at first, and things like “having to explain the vocabulary you just used to your coworkers” and “I would also like Anne Bonny to be my wife”, but gradually I began to relate to him for increasingly personal reasons. I first watched Black Sails after I had gone through a particularly rough couple years, and the catharsis of watching Jack go from “they pissed on me” to being the character who is ultimately victorious over the series’ main antagonist was an emotionally intense experience. I was already projecting on him by the time that he delivered the “great art has felled empires” monologue, which was the moment I knew that I was deeply invested in this character, and he hadn’t even started showing off his best looks yet. There are, of course, moments where his actions are... morally dubious, but even those instances just managed to make me more attached to him, because I respect the hell out of how well the writers succeeded in making him such a well-developed character. 

By the end of the series I realized that I related to this character on an intensely personal level, in a way that I haven’t connected with a fictional character in years, except it felt more profound than the times I’ve connected with fictional characters in the past because this time I was an Adult with a deeper understanding of the Self. I don’t want to sound like a soulbonder or a kinnie or whatever the kids are calling it these days but it really felt like this:

tl;dr I came for the wardrobe and stayed for the waxing about art philosophy and historiography

Why I don’t: ... undermining the revolution wasn’t great...

Favorite episode: I’m a big fan of 2.06 because... you know...

but also because we had to wait 14 episodes to see this pirate on a fuckin boat

Favorite season: Season three features so many of my favorite tropes it feels unreal... Jack and Charles as co-captains sharing authority and declaring their undying loyalty to each other... the way he goes full dandy the moment he has money to burn... Jack has to gain the approval of his judgmental father-in-law... his homoerotic rivalry with Rogers... getting arrested and then rescued by his significant others in the most dramatic way possible... I choose to believe that there was a brief, shining moment right before the beginning of season 3 where Jack was able to just chill and be optimistic about the future and bask in Charles Vane’s approval amidst his pile of gold and new wardrobe while Anne and Max were off doing lesbian stuff...

Favorite line: “It’s the art that leaves the mark, but to leave it, it must transcend, it must speak for itself, it must be true,” I mutter to myself as I draw vampire pirates at 1am

Favorite outfit: oof what a question...

This look is probably my overall favorite and there’s a good reason why it’s the outfit he’s wearing for the final climactic battle. He has so many amazing coats, but the details on this one make it my favorite, and I also love that gradient scarf and the pink embroidered shirt. The color and pattern mixing here is impeccable. It makes me appreciate his hot mess of a wardrobe in the first season more, seeing how his first outfit just looks like plain boring muslin and then more color & patterns gradually get introduced.

This is my runner-up just because I love the shade of blue and the prince charming vibes that are happening here, so I’m sad that we only saw this look for like 3 seconds.

OTP: I can’t remember the last time I cared about a ship as much as I care about VaneRackham.... sometimes I get mad that they succeeded in making me have these Feelings about fictional characters... I watched a show with multiple canon gay relationships and ended up fixating on the queerbait white man ship where one of the characters dies, because I have questionable taste and I love making myself suffer. 😩

Brotp: Jack and Max’s relationship means so much to me 💕

Head Canon: This might be me projecting, but because of his background in textiles I headcanon that Jack was more competent at sewing than anyone else on the Ranger and that skill came in incredibly useful on more than one occasion. The fancy coats that we see him wearing in seasons 3 & 4 most likely would have been custom tailored specifically for him, but I imagine that all of his earlier ones were acquired secondhand (one way or another) and he sometimes did patching/adjustments on them himself.

Unpopular opinion: I respect the artistic liberties that were taken with his character design, but he should have been allowed to wear some silk stockings and show off his calves at least once tbh

A wish: Obviously my #1 wish is that Jack and Charles had been permitted to kiss, but I also wish that we had been able to see them on a ship together clearly I have no choice but to assume that whenever they were on a ship together there was lots of kissing going on An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: man it would sure suck if Jack was executed for piracy within like three years of the series finale 5 words to best describe them: this adam ant looking motherfucker

My nickname for them: my guy/my dude

[beeblackburn]

Ghosts for the fandom ask as well! 👀

The first character I ever fell in love with: Thomas Thorne. “Ah, she’s gone” remains one hell of a delightful line delivery. And his following melodrama was just amazing to sit through. I love dramatic™ bitches.

A character that I used to love/like, but now do not: I... honestly don’t know? Like, I generally like every character in this series and that’s not particularly a small feat. I suppose if I had to choose... the Captain or Mike, and only because I’ve come to realize their later more self-centered/forcible moments were there from the get-go, from the Captain’s complaining about Fanny’s screaming and Mike taking out a loan without talking about it with Alison while she was in a coma, not necessarily because I dislike them.

A ship that I used to love/like, but now do not: Ummm, none! I generally agree with the ships in this series. 

My ultimate favorite character™: Thomas Thorne, he usually guarantees a laugh with any line reading, he looks good, he usually holds back before his crush on Alison gets too creepy, The Thomas Thorne Affair and Free Pass helps explain his more romantic tendencies and the former genuinely floored me with some of its twists and that last revelation broke my damn heart. Poor Isabelle and Thomas. They lost so much because the first Lord Button was a selfish arse. And I adore that Thomas was the first one who sung along In the Bleak Midwinter with Alison. I hope all the best for him.

Prettiest character: Kitty or Thomas. Kitty’s more my type, and I love her dress, but Thomas has those floofy locks to die for.

My most hated character: FUCK LORD BUTTON THE FIRST WITH A MUSKET BALL. That being said, I don’t come out of the Christmas Special respecting Mike’s sisters. And, depending on how Kitty’s backstory goes, her sister’s set to replace Lord Button the First. Honestly, I feel like I come out of this series hating cousins and sisters.

My OTP: Mike/Alison. Aside from some hiccups, Mike’s genuinely supportive and follows Alison’s lead and Alison grounds Mike’s eccentrics or flights of fear. They’re not friction-less, but they feel lived-in, have little jokes with each other, and are a couple who love each other and work through their problems.

My NOTP: Yeah, still none.

Favorite episode: Man, there’s a spoil of riches in Season 2 alone, but I keep revisiting Happy Death Day, Getting Out, About Last Night, Redding Weddy, The Thomas Thorne Affair, and Bump in the Night. If I had to narrow it down... The Thomas Thorne Affair, Bump in the Night or The Ghost of Christmas all vie for favorite.

The Thomas Thorne Affair is the best flashback episode Ghosts got, given it’s got a ton of narrative room to breathe around the death in question (I love Redding Weddy, but I wanted more scenes between the Captain and Lieutenant Havers), allowing for multiple perspectives to see the death, and I love how many holes get plugged up by POVs like Kitty’s or get misdirected off-track like Robin’s or get made into a more interesting imaginary scenario like the Captain’s (real talk, his take never fails to make me laugh, bless you, Captain). It’s all hilarious (that bird getting shot by Thomas’ gun as he falls is my second-guiltiest laugh of the series) but it also speaks to a very real idea of our memories: that we edit, we revise, we look back with nostalgia or clean up the messier bits. Add in the twists and the Mike subplot and it all adds up to a tragic tale whose theme is about how another man’s utter selfishness is capable of destroying a relationship between two lovers through violence, either directly or by proxy. It’s delightfully hilarious, but it hits so hard and Thomas’ words about the truth making it all worse twists my heart.

I feel Bump in the Night is the funniest episode Ghosts’ got. It’s not particularly serious, there are no real stakes, given one of the burglars is terrible at theft, it’s just a bunch of total morons fumbling through a breaking-and-entering and it’s amazing. Fanny complaining that the burglars are terrible at theft, the Ghosts calling for 999, only to not think through how to communicate, them trying to communicate with Mike via a creepy doll’s eyelids, Alison immediately realizing Mike’s in the wardrobe, Julian writing “2 of them” instead of 2 like a non-dumbass, MIKE IN THE SUIT OF ARMOR, it’s all amazingly funny, but at the same time, it’s all underlined by the emotional truth that Alison, Mike, and the Ghosts have come far enough that the Ghosts are willing to help them out because they like them, instead of scaring them off or causing problems like in Season 1. Alison verbalizes it, but the more touching scene is how she thanks Robin, the Ghost that first scared her because he had nothing better to do, for getting Barclay to help them and he just nods humbly back. This episode is full of idiots, but it’s got a decent amount of heart in it that gives it weight beyond the laughs.

The Ghost of Christmas probably has one of my favorite theses on why we endure the holidays with our families, despite it never being as magical as can be. There’s stuff to nitpick like how I don’t like how Mike’s sisters delight in Mike throwing a fit, going so far to film it, and some of Julian’s scenes with the baby run a bit long for my taste, but I really do like Julian’s summation of Christmas: that it’s perfect because it’s not perfect and that we should be grateful of any time we spend with family, because it will all go away someday, as the ghosts can testify. We take the good with the bad. There are some delightful humor bits like the Ghosts needling the Captain and Thomas to join in on Twister, Fanny looking up at the tall tree from the seeds they planted, Mike’s dad having a chainsaw, and Julian waving off his daughter being a MP of the Green Party (screw you, Julian, she rules because of that), but there’s also the theme of family in the emotional scene. When Mike’s dad tells him they’re overbearing because someday they won’t get to do things for him, there’s a heartwarming irony that, even past death, the Ghosts are there for Alison, their newest family member. This episode made me realize just how... barren Alison’s biological family connections are from the first episode’s mentioning that there were no other direct relatives. And In the Bleak Midwinter is a gorgeous song that cuts as a certain truth: just because others can’t see your family doesn’t make them any less real to you. 

Saddest death: Thomas dying all alone at the tree, no one living by his side, feeling the sting of being rejected one final time at the end because his cousin was a selfish arse who capitalized on a woman he didn’t love for her estate? God, this bears repeating, but fuck Lord Button the First.

Favorite season: Oh, definitely Season 2. I love Season 1, but I’m not a huge fan of second-hand embarrassment and seeing Alison get embarrassed by her reacting to ghosts that others can’t see made me wince quite a few times. I much prefer Season 2′s handling of Alison and the Ghosts and how they work.

Least favorite season: Season 1. I don’t take to the more second-hand embarrassment humor of that season, but I do love every episode except Free Pass. It’s still a great season with episodes like Happy Death Day, Moonah Ston, and Getting Out. Special mention to Happy Death Day, which was the first time I realized Ghosts could balance the comedy and the darkness with sincere emotion without them undercutting each other at the wrong time.

Character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: Now? Not really. In the first season though, I sometimes found Kitty a little too grating, possessive, and intrusive. Not that I don’t get where she’s coming from, her childhood sounds lonely and painful in ways she doesn’t fully comprehend and ghosthood hasn’t exactly made her any less lonely in some ways, most times I understand, but sometimes, like at the start of Getting Out where I feel she really should pump the brakes. 

That being said, her backstory’s gonna break me. I just know it.

My ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: Fanny or the Captain. They really can be abrasive or domineering in that first season, the Captain steamrolling over Pat from time to time and Lady Fanny’s nitpicking and homophobia, but I do get why they are that way and they do get better.

My ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: Kitty, who deserves all the blankets for that childhood. Mary, who likely has a mental illness and got burnt because of that. Humphrey, who doesn’t deserve being ignored by the Ghosts.

My ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: Thomas/Alison. Thomas, sometimes, your behavior can get a little too much regarding Alison. That first (thankfully only) peep at her in the shower, I know you’ve been frustrated for years as a Ghost, but noooooooo. That being said, when Thomas respects her boundaries and is a supportive friend (have I mentioned how touching In the Bleak Midwinter is?), I dig them.

My ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: Pat/Cap. Not that I don’t get it, and it promises heartwarming feels and heartbreak (Pat moving on after they hook up and Captain having to watch another leave him again, but this time, Captain got to admit his feelings before the leaving) and they are rather adorable together, but I’m more waiting for the narrative to acknowledge the possibility before launching myself into the ship full-time.

[embarrassingsmartphonegame]

Moving In - Nik Ryder x f!MC

Summary: “You know, most people exchange phone numbers before they move in with together.” “Most people also haven’t been brought together by fighting a murderous bag of bones. Also you already have it...” “Wait what?!” Leah moves in with Nik officially after Chapter 5 of Anything. It goes exactly as expected.

All the links for Anything: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 (final chapter) | Scared To Live (interlude from Nik’s POV)

Warnings: two people who bicker almost as much as they love each other, some swear words, kissing, mention of trauma and alcohol, overall pretty light-hearted

“How-” Push. “Much-” Push. “Clothing-” Push. “Do you own?!”

Nik liked to think of himself as physically strong (and he would say he had the abs to prove it). But just how can one box of clothes be so heavy? He was huffing and puffing the entire walk from the moving truck and into the Graveyard Shift, especially when they had to go up a flight of stairs to get to his--no, their apartment.

“I own a normal amount of clothes. Maybe you just need to work out more,” Leah teased as she put down her own box effortlessly on the floor of the living room, stopping to stretch her arms over her head. She had to admit her Fae power of super strength came in handy sometimes and she was thankful that she was now able to summon it even when it wasn’t an emergency.

He snorted. “Chasing monsters keeps me plenty fit, thank you very much. But you sure do own a lot of clothes for someone who loses them like you do.”

Her cheeks burned at the memory of their reunion. “I had to prove it was me!”

“That was really your first instinct?!”

“You complaining about that?”

Nik chuckled and pulled her by the waist, nuzzling her neck. “You know I would never, darlin’.”

Leah rolled her eyes and pecked him on the lips. “I come back and agree to be with you and since then it’s been ‘rook’ or ‘babe’ or ‘sugar’ and now ‘darlin’’. Is that why you’re called Nik...because you’re a...nickname type of guy?”

“Shit, rook; was just tryin’ to be romantic here,” Nik groaned as she laughed a little too hard at her own joke. Any exasperation instantly dissipated once he heard her laugh; he missed it the past three months. She kissed him again, enjoying every moment.

“I know. I just love teasing you.”

“Lil’ shit.”

“Ah, another one, Mr. Nic--hey!” Leah shouted out as Nik suddenly wrapped her up in a bear hug, swinging her around. Her shouts soon turned into laughter, and soon the small apartment was filled with the sound of both of them laughing. 

Nik finally put her down on the counter with his hands still on her hips. She rested her forehead against his, still in slight disbelief that she was moving in with him. It was only one week before that she crash landed back into his life, and after they talked things out and survived yet another attempt on their lives (he owed her his life...again), she decided to move to New Orleans for good. 

The thought of it as their apartment still felt weird to them both; but it was his idea for her to move in with him. Nik remembered giving some half-assed excuse about them being both business and personal partners so it only made sense financially...he ignored that dark voice in his head irrationally sneering at him that if he took his eyes off her for even one second she would disappear again. Leah agreed with his staunch assessment, if only to curb the fear that this was all another weird (but wonderful) dream and she was actually alone in Wyoming. She frowned at the thought of her old life. Nik noticed the pensive look on her face.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The corner of her right lip quirked upwards without amusement as she shrugged. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to move in? After I’ve been probably the biggest pain in the ass since we met a few months ago?”

“First of all, it was my idea for you to move in; no offense but we’re technically unemployed until a client hires us and I’m in a better position from whoever hired me to protect you,” Nik answered, actually hoping that his honesty wasn’t too offensive. “And second, you’re a pain in the ass...but you’re my pain in the ass and you had your reasons for everything. I love you just the same, okay? So no saying you can’t live here unless you really don’t wanna.”

“I do have student loans to pay off...” Leah grinned. “Gotta love your definition of romance, babe. This pain in the ass loves you too!”

Satisfied and sneaking in one last kiss, the woman jumped off the counter. She tied her hair and rolled her sleeves up. “Now let’s get unpacking!”

.

After a few hours of them unpacking Leah’s things, bickering, and randomly making out (“We’re never gonna get anything done like this, rook!”), the two Nighthunters stood in their now shared bedroom, about to finish up. Nik took out the last piece of clothing: a very familiar velvet, royal purple dress with a gold body chain to go with it. He held it up to her, brow quirked mischievously.

“Any chance I could see you in this again?”

Leah collapsed the last box and put it in the pile with all the others. Her eyes moved to the dress that cost more than half her wardrobe. “Still can’t believe you picked that one out. If we sneak into Persephone again, maybe...”

“How about on a date? A real one.”

“You asking me out, Ryder?”

“What’s it look like, Mendoza?”

She couldn’t help the silly grin on her face, as if she was suddenly a teenage girl talking to her crush for the first time. “I accept. Would this be technically our first date? Because I don’t know whether to count us running from the Bloodwraith...”

“Yes, a real date, rook. But no promises that monsters won’t try to attack us or anything, sorry,” Nik responded, hanging the dress up in their shared closet space. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She smiled brightly and took a seat on the bed. “We’re really doing this backwards, huh? You know, most people exchange phone numbers before they move in together.”

“Most people also haven’t been brought together by fighting a murderous bag of bones.” Nik turned to her and sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Also you already have it...”

“Wait what?!”

Nik took a deep breath before speaking again. “First, I wanna say I’m so sorry for this; I shouldn’t have contacted you when it was clear you didn’t wanna talk to me. Katherine offered me your number one night after I asked about you and I wanted to be selfish and take it.”

“So...you called me while I was gone?” Leah asked, her eyebrows coming together in confusion. “But I don’t remember you calling...I mean I had dreams you did a few times, but those weren’t real.”

“Well, one of them wasn’t a dream,” Nik went on. “It was nighttime and you picked up the phone slurrin’ drunk. I remember asking if you were safe, and you said you were home.”

Leah’s cheeks burned and she put her head in her hands. “Oh my God...I really don’t remember anything from that conversation. This is so embarrassing! You must’ve thought I was such an idiot!”

“No, you have nothing to be ashamed of, rook.” Nik cautiously sidled up beside her, resting a hand on the small of her back. “I’m so sorry I didn’t respect your wishes. I’m the wrong one here.”

Leah didn’t pull away, but she also couldn’t look at him. She tried to remember anything from the past three months that didn’t involve alcohol; she could count them all on one hand. “I...I really had a problem. I have a problem. I know that moving and being in a relationship won’t fix everything, but it’s hitting me that I need real help.”

“And I’m with you every step of the way.” He pulled her into a hug, letting her rest her face into his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that I’m with you...”

“To the bitter end,” Leah finished, her voice breaking at the last word. Nik tightened his hold on her, an aching in his chest as he remembered that he once kept that promise; but he never anticipated it to be her bitter end. He closed his eyes and relished in the warmth of her body against his, blocking out the memory of her cold, pale skin and still heart. Eventually he loosened his hold and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes.

“All the ragged parts of me...stitched back together when I’m with you,” he murmured only for her to hear. “I only want the same for you.”

Leah pulled him in for a warm, tender kiss. When they pulled away, a serene smile graced her features; Nik could swear there was something magical about her smile. 

“I love you, and I can���t wait to see what tomorrow brings us,” she said, her voice strong and hopeful. Leah could feel her sunny disposition returning day by day, and it showed.

“I love you too, rook.” Nik pulled her to lie down beside him, their fingers intertwined. “What do you wanna do tonight? No jobs. We can go out or stay in, and I promise no snake tequila for either of us.”

Leah snorted and sprang up. “I say we stay in tonight in our apartment. Takeout?”

“You read my mind.”

“And there’s a reality show I’ve been meaning to catch up on...” Leah was already making her way to the living room while Nik followed. She babbled on about how it was a show where an American and a foreigner have to get married within 90 days for a special visa and that itself is, of course, where the drama begins and this season was especially dramatic and blah, blah, blah. Nik snorted at how invested she was in the show while they looked at food places. 

The two Nighthunters spent the entire night snuggled up on their couch, talking and eating and canoodling. Leah sighed in satisfaction as sleep eventually took over them, her head resting on Nik’s chest. She finally felt like her life was going somewhere, and all that mattered was that they were in it together.

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

A/N: I hope you like yet another fic of me refusing to let these two go onto the next installment just yet! Okay in reality I’ve been writing the first chapter of that and am almost done but med school got weird and my mental health took a dive and COVID-19 happened and blah, blah, blah. Bonus points if you know exactly what reality show Leah is talking about! Any and all comments are greatly appreciated, and I hope you’re all staying safe and healthy 💗

Permanent tag list: @furiouscloddonutpeanut​ @inlovewithrebels​ @mistressofspiesxenia​

Nightbound tag list: @saivilo​ 

Anything tag list: @samara-rani​ @god-save-the-keen​ @xxdangerouscapri15xx 

[syntaxeme]

Giardino Segreto ch. 5

[Read on AO3] | [First Chapter] | [Next Chapter] Rating: T Chapter summary: As Angel and the Giardinos are coming into their own as a crime family, Alastor is having trouble reading the boss's feelings toward him--that is, whether he has any. Of course, the moment he lets his guard down, an old threat comes back into the picture. Just when things were going so well...

— — –

Venture, it turned out, was as good as her word. Within a month, the hotel was fully functional and attracting guests, in addition to the other more ‘traditional’ fields she and Angel were pursuing—drugs, guns, that sort of thing. As promised, Alastor had leveraged favors, paid bribes, made threats, and generally talked circles around other demons until they had a ‘family’ of a respectable size. Not the most wholesome bunch, maybe, but an effective one nonetheless!

“It’s been a week and a fuckin’ half and Cortez is still draggin’ his feet on this deal,” Angel grumbled from his desk as he looked over the report he’d just been handed. “Venn, we got any other options to get these ACPs shipped? I’m tired of waitin’ on this asshole.”

“I’m sure I could find someone else if you insist,” Venture answered, leaning against the edge of the desk. She had her own, of course, but Alastor wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her sit at it. Too much to do, he supposed. “But the Cortezes could be useful to us. Are you sure you want to burn that bridge so quickly?”

The boss let out a groan and dropped his head back while he thought the matter over. This sort of conversation had become typical of a day’s work, even comfortable. Early on in their operations, the hotel’s third floor had been converted into a sort of administration department, including a spacious joint office from which the two of them oversaw operations. Alastor spent most of his time in this office as well, ready to provide whatever assistance Angel might need of him.

The position of underboss still wasn’t entirely clear to him, but Angel had given him the title, so he accepted it. Well, I wasn’t planning to join the Mob, but why not? It wasn’t as if his legal record before now was entirely spotless. Besides, it gave him some legitimacy and authority when dealing with humans who didn’t understand the real reason it was stupid to challenge him.

“All right, I’ll give him ‘til the end of the week,” Angel decided. “After that, I’m takin’ my merchandise elsewhere. And make sure he knows it.”

“Will do.” And she was off to her desk to make a call.

Angel sat still for a moment, fidgeting with one of his pens and stealing very obvious glances in Alastor’s direction. Cute. Still, he pretended not to notice, remaining where he sat on the sofa against the wall until the boss finally called, “Hey, Al?”

“Hey, Angel.”

The boy smiled and rolled his eyes. “C’mere a minute.” So he did. Mercifully, over the past few weeks, his illness hadn’t gotten any worse—but it was certainly still present and not letting up. Much like Angel’s playful flirting. The boss hopped up from his chair to seat himself on the desk instead, crossing one leg over the other. His new wardrobe really did suit him (no pun intended). When Alastor got close enough, he reached out to slip his fingertips under the demon’s tie and lead him closer still. Whether the fluttering in Alastor’s chest was literal or figurative, it was difficult to say.

“Did you need something?” he asked, doing an admirable job of pretending Angel’s familiarity didn’t affect him. He sometimes got the feeling those efforts backfired, though, as Angel would often flirt harder because he seemed so indifferent, until he finally broke down and turned away or his smile faltered into uncertainty.

“I’m goin’ out with Cherri and a couple of the guys for drinks tonight,” Angel stated, watching closely for Alastor’s reaction.

“I see. Are you asking me to come along and keep an eye on you?” he asked, gently prying Angel’s fingers away from his tie. “Have I been demoted from underboss to bodyguard that quickly? I wasn’t even given a verbal citation.”

“Oh, shut up,” Angel laughed. “I’m asking you to come as you. Full stop.”

That was unexpected. He’d never invited Alastor along on his outings with Cherri—who had become an informant and supplier for the Giardinos—before.

“Are you sure that’s for the best?” Alastor asked. “Call me crazy, but I get the feeling ‘the guys’ aren’t quite as comfortable around me as they are around you. I wouldn’t want to put a damper on your night out.”

“So what’re you sayin’? You’d rather it just be the two of us?” Angel teased.

“I think it’s safe to say most men would prefer your company over mine.” He managed to keep his voice level despite nearing the limits of his tolerance. Much more exposure to that smile on Angel’s face and he was sure to get short of breath soon.

“C’mon, is it because of the Overlord thing? Venn’s going!”

“No I’m not,” Venture interjected without looking up from her work.

“You are if I say you are, Cleopatra,” Angel shot right back. “Hell, you need a night off more than anyone.” Alastor’s policy of ‘I can get you whatever you want’ may have spoiled him a bit. Or maybe it was the power that came with being boss. Yet she still seemed amused by his pushy attitude and smiled regardless.

“What the don says goes,” she conceded with a shrug.

“Exactly. So are you onboard or what?” he asked Alastor, raising his eyebrows. Realistically, Alastor wasn’t likely to enjoy the outing, especially when Angel’s attention would probably be elsewhere. He didn’t often say no to any request the boss— “Alastor.” When the boy got to his feet, it left just inches between them. Crossing his arms, leaning a little closer with the slightest curve on his lips belying his innocent tone, he purred, “Tell me you’re gonna go.”

Despite Alastor’s efforts to hide it, it was a fact that he couldn’t stand against Angel’s charm indefinitely. And, foolishly, he had allowed Angel to pick up on that fact. It wasn’t that he disliked the persuasion. It was gratifying to know that his presence was something the boss was willing to push for. But he would’ve much preferred if agreeing were a choice on his part. Instead, his illness flared up again, tension and pain making it that much harder to argue.

Turning away, unable to handle the hopeful look in those big brown eyes, he forced out, “Whatever you want, Angel.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” the boy said with a grin. “Eclipse Lounge. Eight o’clock. Better get there on time if you want a seat next to me.” With a last satisfied smirk, he left the room, snatching his hat off the desk as he went. Alastor remained where he stood and watched him go, waiting for his symptoms to subside.

It was becoming more and more difficult, if not impossible, to tell whether all the flirtation and teasing Angel showered on him was just a method of manipulating him or…something else. After all, it was simply a part of Angel’s personality to make suggestive comments and use his looks to his advantage. That was the reason Alastor tried so hard to respond to it neutrally; if he were to take it too seriously and answer with his honest thoughts on the matter, it might easily put Angel off or scare him away.

“Hmmm~, you two are quite a pair,” Venture mused from where she stood in the far corner of the room.

“There are two of us, so yes, technically.”

“You know your one-liners get a little less snappy when you’re distracted?” She sauntered her way to his side and re-aligned the tie that Angel had skewed. “I’m sure if you told him how you feel about sex, he’d tone down the flirting tout de suite.”

“He hasn’t said anything to me on the subject, so I have no reason to discuss it with him.” Observing Venture cautiously, he noted, “You two seem to be getting along well. Has he said something to you?”

“Oh no, I’m not here to play Mafia Matchmaker,” she said, raising both hands as she stepped back to seat herself in the boss’s chair and give it a spin. “But I will say you’re taking this much more seriously than usual. Why, I’ve never seen you so serious, in fact.”

“My friend, I haven’t the foggiest idea what you mean. Levity is my middle name.”

“Is that so?” Leaning back in the chair, she crossed her ankles on the desk in front of her and watched his reaction. As if something in his posture or expression were proving her point, she continued curiously, “See? Even this. It’s bothering you. It’s almost as if you really think of that boy as your superior, but I’m sure I know you better than that.” The way she looked at him said she wasn’t sure at all.

“Do you know what your problem is, Venture?” He bent at the waist to be at eye-level with her and said cheerfully, “You think too much. You really should learn to take a step back, smell the roses—you are working in a garden these days, after all.”

“Careful what you wish for. Snakes and gardens, historically, don’t mix well.”

“And if anyone under this roof were concerned with salvation, that might just be an issue. As it is, you fit into our merry band of misfits quite nicely—so stop trying so hard to maintain your distance. We both know it won’t last forever.”

“Hm.” Her expression remained placid for the most part, but there was a slight furrow in her brow. All things considered, Venture was the last demon on Earth who had any right to judge Alastor’s investment in Angel. And she must have realized it as well. With an exaggeratedly nonchalant shrug, she sat up properly and started organizing the many file folders that cluttered the boss’s desk. “Well? You heard the man. Don’t be late.”

— — —

As bidden, Alastor showed up at the Eclipse Lounge at 7:54. The room was softly lit, low-ceilinged, with a light haze of cigar smoke and a low murmur of chatter from its guests. The word ‘intimate’ came to mind. Fitting for a place where crime lords often gathered and all sorts of illicit deals were made. In the center of the room was a bar forming a continuous ring, so one could approach it from any side. And on his left, seated in the very center of a circular, leather-upholstered booth, was Angel. Spotting him, the boy grinned and waved him over, so he took the place where he felt he belonged: right at Angel’s side.

“I knew you were gonna be the first one here.” The boss looked as smug as ever, fully relaxed in his seat and sipping a John Collins. (Well, how could Alastor not know his go-to cocktail of choice?)

“How’s that?”

“Cuz of what I said about sitting by me. I know you don’t like lettin’ me outta your sight. Maybe you think I’m gonna get fucked up again like that night with Cherri. Am I right?”

“To think that I want to keep an eye on you? Absolutely.”

“Besides,” Angel added casually, “I told everybody else eight-fifteen.”

“So you were the one who wanted it to be just the two of us.” Something about that knowledge was immensely satisfying. “Why, Angel, I’m flattered.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get a big head about it. I just wanted us to have a minute outside the office. Been tryin’ to make it happen for a week now and kept chickenin’ out, so I figured it’d be easier if it was a group thing.” The boy stirred his drink slowly without looking at Alastor. Interesting that he would admit to a strategy like this so openly. Doubly interesting that he would bother making such plans in the first place.

“You already know you have my attention whenever you want it,” Alastor pointed out. “You could have just asked.”

“I guess. It’s a lot easier givin’ orders than makin’ requests, though. Anyway, that’s what we’re here for. That’s what all this”—he gestured to the room—“was about. Me askin’ for your attention.”

With the way Angel was watching him, so thoughtful, so intent, Alastor’s mouth went dry all of a sudden. There was nothing playful or teasing in the boy’s tone. For once, it didn’t come with a wink and a smirk. Instead, he was just waiting, as if he’d expected Alastor might need a moment to consider.

“What sort of attention,” the demon managed, “exactly?”

“Hm. Ask me again once we get back to the hotel.”

All signs were pointing in a very positive direction, but Alastor still tried to fight the surge of excitement and hope that rushed through him. “Angel—”

“Wow, it’s a fuckin’ snoozefest in here.” Cherri had appeared and now scooted into the booth on Angel’s other side, speaking a bit louder than necessary. As usual. “Who picked this dump, anyway? I bet it was you, old man.” She jerked her chin at Alastor.

“Hey, c’mon, it ain’t that bad,” Angel said, nudging her with his elbow. “Besides, once you get a couple drinks in ya, you won’t even notice anymore.”

And so their few minutes of alone time were brushed aside to be replaced with ‘family bonding activities.’ As Angel had said, a few Giardino capos showed up soon after Cherri, and as Alastor had predicted, they seemed a bit uneasy with his presence. But after a round and a half of drinks, they relaxed enough to chat comfortably with the boss, which was nice to see. Venture waltzed in a little after 9 o’clock, and a somewhat tipsy Angel berated her for being late while she waved him off and told him to be happy she’d come at all.

Alastor wasn’t much of a drinker himself and so sat sipping sparkling water while the others had their fun. Angel, he noticed, seemed to be pacing himself intentionally—but he was still drunk enough to giggle excessively at his capos’ jokes. He didn’t go any further than that in terms of flirting, not with them or with Alastor. He did, however, consistently toy with Alastor’s hand under the table, fingertips tracing his knuckles and down the lines of his fingers, sneaking up to brush against his wrist, and generally making it very difficult to focus on conversation. He couldn’t imagine a better distraction.

The outing wasn’t as bad as expected, Alastor supposed. He himself had always had difficulty forming attachments to those around him or close interpersonal relationships, but there was a certain sense of camaraderie among the rest of the group, which was positive. Familiarity could translate to loyalty, and when dealing with demons, any extra measure to assure loyalty should be taken. More than anything, it was nice to see Angel comfortable and confident, assured of himself as he should always—

A sharp baritone rang out across the room: “Antonia?”

Merde.

[menswearmusings]

After You Buy All the Essentials, Then What? My Personal List Moving Forward

Switching focus from the urgent to the important is a vital practice in the business world. Have you ever worked somewhere where it’s clear that instead of thinking critically about the core of the organization’s mission for ways to grow and improve, the focus is instead on whatever the newest, shiniest idea is (or often, whatever the latest crisis is)?

I always had a sense of urgency about buying clothes, because my goal was to dress in cool tailoring every day of the week in ways that I would consider meaningfully different. But being constrained by a budget meant I had to think carefully about what I bought, so I wouldn’t end up with something because it was a great deal, only to discover I had very little use for it. So I created a list of clothes I wanted that I imagined would comprise a complete wardrobe (for my tastes and needs). That helped me stay focused on my goals when sale season started and there were so many awesome things to buy.

Now, though, having largely built that wardrobe I imagined, I tend to get distracted by the new, shiny thing much more. I’ll find some product on eBay or in a shop on sale and become obsessed with it, going back to look at it over and over again. Without that hit list of must-buys to bring myself back from the brink, I always have a creeping sense that whatever it is I end up actually purchasing is maybe the wrong choice for me and I should instead be saving that money for some other, better purchase down the road. I’ve picked all the low-hanging fruit, but I have no personal guidance for reaching higher.

So, in an effort to try and refocus myself on buying what I can consider important purchases—not just those with the urgency of desire—here’s my list of next must-haves.

(By the way, if you’re just starting out and want some help building a wardrobe from scratch, check out my “Guide to Building a Tailored Wardrobe.” In it, I explain just that—how to have the right mindset about buying clothes, plus specific advice for versatility in clothing. Check it out here.)

More cotton-linen trousers for summer

Since becoming a dad—but even before then—dress trousers in wool just don’t get much wear from me. Primarily that’s because pants need cleaning more often, and I hate dry cleaning bills. But it’s also because I prefer a silhouette that just doesn’t work with dress pants, at least in wool. Jeans or even chinos made of denim or cotton twill drape differently and thus can work in the tapered cut I prefer. My previously perfectly fitting flannel trousers with that ideal taper from Spier & Mackay are now too slim because my calves got too big. So I have to go fuller. I’m fine going with that in a drapey wool, but day to day I prefer a slimmer knee and slightly tapered opening at the hem.

This is why cotton-linen trousers exist. Cotton-linen seems to have that perfect balance of cotton’s stiffness with linen’s drape, so they hang well but are forgiving if the fit isn’t bespoke-perfect or your proportions make things difficult. Pure linen just doesn’t give off the vibe I’m looking for typically (it feels a little more louche the way it hangs and rumples than I as a person am). And other options like wool-silk-linen blends are beautiful and amazing (I’ll get those below), but what I like about cotton-linen is I can usually machine wash it myself to no ill effect. Currently I have one pair, so it’d be nice to get another 2-3 to rotate through (much as I have with flannel in the winter). My list would be: 

A second pair of off-white 

Tan / khaki

Deeper brown

Maybe a light blue or mid-navy

Options I have for buying these: Spier & Mackay’s dress trouser fit is still my best bet right now, and I’ve been told they’ll have a crop of 7 colors of cotton-linen trousers in mid-April. That said, I also just purchased some pairs from Brooks Brothers’ Red Fleece line that arrive soon, made from fabric by the same mill as Spier’s, for $37 a pair that might work, too.

A rotation of good chinos and a pair of light wash jeans that fit

Chinos are nice because they dress up or down pretty well (you can wear a tie with them without it being weird, unlike five-pocket pants, but on their own without a jacket they’re good too), and if you get them in the right fabric, they’re pretty hard-wearing.

Finding chinos that 1- don’t have stretch, 2- are made from material that’s a good mid-weight, and 3- fit the way I want is extremely difficult. You wouldn’t think so but man it’s hard to find good chinos. And finding good, faded jeans with similar qualities is likewise hard without spending $200+. That said, if I can find them, what would make my wardrobe happy would be chinos in:

Off-white

Stone

True khaki

Possibly a pair in fatigue, which is a good color when it’s too hot to wear a jacket

Options for chinos are tricky. I like the idea of what fellow menswear blogger Ian is doing with his new shop Lost Monarch; $125 is hefty for chinos, but I suppose if they fit really well and the fabric rules, the investment might be worth it. I also always forget about classic chino maker Bill’s Khakis, which was always hailed as having the highest quality back in my early Styleforum days. They introduced a number of slimmer fitting styles over the years and are still fairly easy to find on eBay. Spier & Mackay’s chinos are a great deal but each time I’ve tried them, the fit’s been off for me in some way or other. I might try them once again this spring. 

As for light wash jeans, I’ll be looking probably at American Eagle, Polo RL, Abercrombie, Banana Republic, and other mall brands. Much as I’d like to get some 3-Sixteens or even Naked and Famous, they’re hard to get ahold of where I live and trying jeans on is critical.

A dark navy blazer in both single and double breasted configurations

I have seasonally appropriate navy jackets—one is wool/cashmere for winter, and one is raw silk for summer—and last summer I added a dark blue double breasted jacket for summer as well. When I recently tried on No Man Walks Alone’s Sartoria Carrara jackettried on No Man Walks Alone’s Sartoria Carrara jacket, which was a dark navy twill, I remembered why dark navy jackets exist: they’re classy as heck. All my navy jackets are slightly lighter shades of navy, which is great, but a good, dark navy blazer brings some gravity to an outfit, looks great in the evening and dresses up very well for more formal occasions.

That said, it’s gotta be the right texture. Hopsack wool is a good option; I would also be interested in some kind of blend like wool-silk-linen or similar. I’m not a fan of mohair, so I wouldn’t do that, and the high twist fabrics are tricky because they tend to look fairly smooth, while I like a little more surface texture. Given how much I like my SuitSupply Jort blazer, I’m hoping they release a double breasted jacket that might fit the bill this spring/summer. As for single breasted, I really, really liked that NMWAxCarrara jacketNMWAxCarrara jacket, so something closer to a 3-season fabric from him would be amazing. Of course Spier & Mackay has staple hopsack wool blazers in both their Neapolitan cut and regular cut, which sold out quickly in my size.

A dark navy double breasted blazer by Ring Jacket (model 6) I tried on at The Armoury in New York City. Click the image to see the product page of this actual jacket at their site.

A pair or two of summer trousers in a nicer fabric

Cotton linen trousers and chinos are as dressy as I need them to be most of the time in my life, but it’s still nice to have a pair of classier dress trousers in summer for occasions that call for it. I’ve had gray hopsack and fresco in the past, but those were more corporate than I was looking for.

Summer is the time for levity in the color palette, so I really like the idea of a light or mid blue (maybe a petrol blue). Every time Greg at No Man Walks Alone does spring pre-orders for Rota, they offer these beautiful wool/silk/linen blend fabrics, including petrol blue in the past, and every time, I love how they look but always stopped short of ordering for various reasons. A sufficiently textured, interesting blend in a light gray would also be nice and would be better than a corporate looking fresco or tropical wool. In the swatches below, which were for this season’s Rota trouser made to order options, the blue and gray at the top hold appeal, and even that green at the bottom.

Swatches for Rita wool/silk/linen trousers From No Man Walks Alone.

Some dress shirts from Anglo-Italian

It feels like I’ve been banging on about this for years at this point, I know, but their reverse stripe OCBD is great and I need to just pull the trigger and buy it. But beyond that, Anglo’s house dress shirt model is essentially the perfect shirt: the collar shape is an ideal wide spread with no tie space and that isn’t too stiff; the fit is comfortable but not baggy; and the details are all there both quality and design-wise. The back shirring is maybe a bit out there for many people, but these shirts are meant to be worn under a jacket, which is how I’d wear them. I’d buy white first then probably their blue end-on-end and maybe the bengal stripe. They’re expensive at $175, but that’s less than other comparable Italian dress shirt companies like Finamore or Borrelli.

A couple additional pairs of suede shoes

I love suede for its versatility in dressing up or down. What I wear 95% of the time are snuff suede penny loafers, snuff suede chukkas and tan suede tassel loafers. I’m looking to get more dark brown suede, which, sorta like true dark navy blazers, brings some gravity to an outfit. My penny loafers have been through some rough times; I plan to resole them (which they badly need), but it’d be nice to have a pair that aren’t so beaten up. I prefer a sleeker last shape most of the time (not pointy, maybe almond shaped) to the round lasts you see from classic Ivy brands like Alden, which are more casual and carry a lot more of that Ivy feeling (something I’m always trying to temper with more rakish aesthetics). That said, a rounded loafer of some kind to wear strictly casually is something I’d like to get to help share the load with the other shoes. I’ve also been really into the split toe derby look the last year or so. I tried The Armoury’s on when I visited there in 2018, and really liked it. 

So, the list would be:

Dark brown suede penny loafers

Dark brown suede Chelsea boots

Brown suede split toe

Dark or mid-brown suede beef roll or similar more casual loafers

I’ve noticed that the most comfortable shoes I love wearing the most are all made by Allen Edmonds, so I’ll be looking at those for sure. The Sea Island in particular looks awesome for that casual loafer. Beckett Simonon has some suede boots and given how comfortable their shoes are, their Bolton Chelsea looks nice. Meermin of course is another option for suede boots, and they have a penny loafer that might fit the bill for me, too. Spier & Mackay’s shoe offerings look very good, including this suede penny loafer. And of course the Armoury’s split toe derby is the one I’m most looking at for that category as I’m sort of picky when it comes to split toe shoes.

So there’s my hit list moving forward. I’ve already deviated from it this season by purchasing an excellent but not-on-this-list jacket from Spier & Mackay in 100% linen by Sondrio in a mid-brown glen check pattern. It surprised me how much I loved it, so I’m letting myself deviate from the list, guilt-free. And at the end of the day, the clothing hobby is all about enjoying life anyhow, and what could be more important than than?

(Help support this site! If you buy stuff through my links, your clicks and purchases earn me a commission from many of the retailers I feature, and it helps me sustain this site—as well as my menswear habit ;-)  Thanks!)

Read more at Menswear Musings

[nerdygaymormon]

As someone who has dealt with (if not still dealing with) MDD, have you ever felt like you were running out of time? Have you ever felt like what you were doing wasn't enough? If so, what advice did you get that was helpful, if any? I have been to therapy and seen six therapists over the years, but not one has given me any sort of coping tools. And I used to turn to religion until I started questioning whether I was queer, then that became a major source of fear. 1/?

I’ve accepted that I’m queer now, and through other queer mormons have come to like the idea that the god that is taught in the classrooms and in the literature is not God as He truly is, all-loving regardless. However, I’m still heavily shaken, my faith is starting almost new from a tree that’s been cut back so bad it’s almost nothing but roots, so the prospect of meeting my maker and the end terrifies me, and I constantly feel like I’m running out of time to be the good saint. 2/2

—————————————————————

It’s interesting reading this because my approach in my mental distress was the opposite. Instead of wondering am I doing enough and do I have enough time to do better, I worried I was as good as I would be and wasn’t strong enough to keep doing so. I actively chose things to shorten my life. Not healthy. I still have some self-defeating behaviors from those days that I need to work on.

________  

This week in Come Follow Me we read about the dream of the Iron Rod. What we’re aiming for is the tree that has the fruit of God’s Love. That’s the goal. You’ve recently come to see that God’s love is extended to us, it’s here ready if we will accept it. I think for too many of us, clinging to that iron rod becomes our focus and can hamper us in feeling God’s love. We’re too scared of not clinging with both hands to ancient texts that we ignore the word of God to us today and it keeps us from moving forward. 

One thing that helped me is to change my focus from fear to hope. I don’t fear I cannot live the type of life that God wants me to or be the person God wants me to be. I don’t think I’m strong enough to thwart God’s plan for me, I trust that God has planned for queer people. Now I have hope I can do better, I can progress. I can be a good person and do things that are pleasing to God and which bring meaning to my life. 

One way that happened for me was to stop worrying about life after death. There’s no real answers for that. No one can prove it exists. Those who’ve had experiences where they died and came back describe an intense amount of love, not fear or condemnation. Those who’ve had visions describe it as more wonderful than we can imagine. Yet no one can describe what an average day is like in heaven. So I just gotta trust that a loving God will take care of it.

I focus on this life. I think about if God & Christ are real, then they are working today in our world. How can I partner with them? What work are they doing and how can I help? There are things I can do today or this week to help others. Paul teaches that Love is greater than faith. Love for others and learning to love myself is where I can make the biggest impact. 

In essence, the gospel is to love ourselves & to love others. To help others is to help God, especially those who are downtrodden, who are poor, who are refugees, who are on the margins, who are widows & orphans, who are in prison, who are hungry, who are homeless, who are scared. That’s true religion. 

________  

I am better able to help others and make a positive contribution when I invest in myself and develop my talents and abilities. To run and not be weary means to practice running, to bit by bit get better. Also to run constantly means to get worn down, so I also have to practice self care, which can include learning to take better care of my body & mind, reducing stress, drawing boundaries, and so on, that way I can run when needed.

________   

The Church’s definition of a successful life is completing the “covenant path” and having a family. Yet the Church excludes me from its path of success but doesn’t give me any alternatives. In this absence, you and I get to define what a successful life looks like for us. 

One basic need for humans is connection, which I believe is included in God’s Plan, but is denied to queer people under the Church’s version of God’s Plan. The Church’s Plan seems very to be exclusively for cisgender heterosexual people without contemplation of the rest of us.

A successful life for me would be to have a long-term loving relationship and some deep friendships.

Do you want you to find someone to love and who will love you? You can pray and ask God about this (most queer people I know who’ve asked have gotten a very strong positive response to this question). Do you want to contribute to society? If so, what does that look like? Do you want to be a better person? In what ways do you want to improve? What do you want your life to look like?

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I don’t know how much longer I have to live, none of us do. So rather than worry whether I am going to accomplish all these things, I instead think “am I generally headed in the right direction?”

Who did I help this week? What did I do to develop myself? Did I do something of worth this week? Did I take time to recharge myself?

I like that our church has started teaching that we get credit for trying. I like that the temple recommend questions have changed to ask if you “strive” to do things.

If I’ve decided on what a successful life looks like, I don’t have to be 100% successful at this moment. It’s a goal to work towards. It’s probably a goal that never is reached. Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King, Jr, or other people who you might identify as super aware and super successful, never reach the point where they say “I’ve accomplished everything I need to have had a successful life.” They just kept striving.

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I like the idea taught by our church that we’ll be judged according to the knowledge we have. As our knowledge changes, so does the criteria by which we’ll be judged. 

You’ve recently undergone a major change in your faith and your understanding of God. That’s a change in knowledge. You have a new set of criteria to learn to understand. It takes time to figure out how that change plays out in your life and in your goals. 

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When I said to my therapist that I’m not sure if I do things I do because I like them or because it became habit from my years in the closet and trying to present as straight, he said I get a chance to discover myself. Try a new wardrobe, if I don’t like it, change again. Try going to new places, doing new things, meeting new people. Be very curious. Replace things with something meaningful, something that brings happiness, something that makes me feel 

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I don’t know if any of this resonates with you. I hope something I wrote is helpful. A few more thoughts:

Mankind is that we might have joy, what brings you joy?

give yourself credit for changes you’ve made

small changes and small acts are important

your past explains how you got to where you are, but it does not define you, you can change

find others with whom you can share the deep thoughts and worries and who can understand what you’ve been through. I have found that queer Mormons understand me in a way no one else does. Yet other queer people can understand and so can some cishet Mormons

It takes courage to do these things, but queer people have proven time and again that we are a brave people

You have two incredible legacies of people to call upon–Mormons & Queer People. Each have been pioneers, have demanded respect and change, have accomplished incredible things because they were willing to do big things, and are good at building community