ready for occupancy

Secret Sins - KBTBB


“You’re so soft.”

Words like that made me weak, well – no, not exactly only words like that; but if for some reason an eloquently strung web of lies was ever to leave a man’s lips in a deep and somewhat honest tone – it would be hard for me not to believe them, even if the rest of the world was telling me not to.

These three words in particular caused a fuzzy, warm sensation to creep along my skin just as I wasn’t expecting a single thing. Shoes still off on the floor beside the bed and the skirt I’d just slipped into now pushed high up at my waist; it was a gentle kiss and the soft grip of large hands on my hips that caused my eyes to see and my head to fill with nothing but bright, shining stars.

As his lips skimmed lightly across my one; teasingly as he would, I without hesitation pushed my weight forward so that the kiss could deepen – a mouse like whimper escape my lips as our mouths began to shape shift, the affection growing deeper and deeper.

“I’m going to be late for work.”
“Now we couldn’t have that could we?”

The conversation was nothing short of the same repetitive nonsense we shared every morning that I woke up in bed beside him; yet it was a clandestine secret that was only and would only be kept between the two of us. The rest of the world was yet to have to know about our private lives and our friendship was far too old and trusted for a ‘behind closed door’ fling to ruin or break it. The romance had gone on for a little under 6 months and whilst involved – I wasn’t quite sure that either of us were in love.

A few more kisses strung one after the other and my fingers weaving through the short, slicked back lengths of his hair; I broke all contact, scampering off the bed to step into the heel I’d have to wear to work today. The same heels that had taken me from the office to the bar last night where we’d ‘accidently’ bumped into one another.

“We couldn’t. You know that as well as I do Soryu.”
“Will I see you tonight?”

My mumble of acknowledgement was cut short by another kiss as I finished doing up the tiny white buttons of my blouse and without a second thought – I brushed my hair up into a high bun whilst leaving the bedroom.

“You’re glowing.”
“I’m what?”
“Did you get laid this morning?”
“Eisuke we’re about to go into a business meeting what the fuck are you babbling on about?”
“Just tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Did you get laid this morning?”

Feeling a fluster of blush colour across my cheeks I dropped my head quickly; hair falling in front of my face to half conceal the tinge I wasn’t expecting to wearing as an accessory this morning and to advert my eyes from the smug; know it all look my friend was giving me, making me feel vulnerable, known, uncomfortable. Glancing up at the numbers on the inside door of the elevator, I let out a sharp, short exhale and sigh, thankful that we were at level 26 of 43 meaning that this conversation wouldn’t be continuing for much longer.

“Why would I be getting laid? Actually, don’t answer that – you should be focusing on the meeting we’re about to step into.”
“I am.”

“Good – now I have all the contracts ready from owner occupancy down to access of the employee data base and everything in between. Heads up; you’ll have to make a darn good impression if you plan on buying this business at the rate you expect to be paying but I’m sure we’ll have a little leeway as long as you don’t open your mouth and say something ridiculously stupid or offensive. Mr Raynes is a bit of a hotel mogul in the US and if you’re planning on getting any kind of business off and from him you better be ready to act like an adult in a meeting for once and not expect me to step in and save you whenever you start to dig yourself a hole.”

“You talk way too much _____.”
“That’s what the head of your legal team is meant to – mhmmmfff.”

Within seconds of starting what was to be my second; long triad style speech I felt my back pressed up against the corner of the lift; Eisuke’s fingers quick to push and hold the door close button so that we were disturbed after reaching the top floor all of an instant; his lips hot against my own – free hand, gently beneath my chin keeping me still, impassive and immobile.

For someone with a hot temper and overconfident persona which was all I’d even known of him during the last 14 years we’d been acquainted; the tender, light kiss that was confusing me; that was blowing my mind and causing my heart to race for a million and one different reasons seemed out of character.

You’re cute when you blush”, he uttered beneath his breath; the fingers beneath my chin, grazing up to pinch gently at my bottom lip as he let go of the door close button. If it weren’t for the corner of the elevator I was propped up against, I was sure my knees would have caved in and I’d have collapsed onto the ground in a heap.

With no time to react or say a single thing; we were greeted by the hotel mogul himself who looked please to see the two of us – presumably more for the exchange of dollar signs rather than a casual chat or company. Straightening my back and adjusting my glasses; I felt a hot – thin sweat build up across my body like a sin.



I’d been sleeping with someone behind closed doors for months now – and kissed by his best friend who I knew would be after nothing more than a one off, raucous fling; yet after a single, sinful taste – I already knew that even though I’d be winding myself up a disgraceful mess of trouble – I couldn’t get enough of, or wait to try again.

Has anyone else ever thought that Auradon never thought it could get that bad in the Isle of the Lost?

Note: This post has been laying in my drafts box for who-knows-how-long. Let’s get it out.

Auradon is mostly made up of the optimists of the world, who research proves tend to see idealized versions of reality than what is actually happening–”rose coloured glasses” to use a popular term. Has anyone else ever figured that they ran the Isle as it was–no guards, no government funded infrastructure or surveillance, no proper food and supply deliveries–because they never realized it would get that bad?

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Undercover Fall 2017 Ready-to-Wear

CLARK GABLE PREPARES HONEYMOON RANCH: Ready for occupancy by Clark Gable and his bride, Carole Lombard, latest Hollywood newly-weds, in the next two weeks will be the Gables ranch in the San Fernando Valley. Fourteen acres, developed for the most part, including thoroughbred horses, Clark Gable, is picture here with a whitewash gun he has been spraying his barns and stables with. With his workmen Gable had done most of the renovating of his seven room ranch home for his occupancy. April 1 ,1939 (original caption)

The List

FYI – for the purpose of this fic 11x9 did NOT happen. I wanted to write something canon verse and fluffy with a happy ending. This is what came out. Can also be read on AO3.

It was January 2nd and Dean was looking over the list that he had written whilst drunk on New Year’s Eve. He didn’t even remember writing it, only that he had managed to get himself into a state of drunkenness that was usually rare for him nowadays. He couldn’t remember much of what he had done that night and he certainly didn’t remember this.

He read through the list with a puzzled look on his face, wondering why on earth he ever would have written half this stuff let alone even admitted it to himself.

January 1st was a write off. He spent the entire day grumpy and stalking around the bunker like a cave man. Appearing only for left over take out and coffee. Sam and Cas had both rightfully avoided him. Still, today was another day and rather than throw the list away and pretend it had never happened, he decided instead that he could at least attempt to make a start on some of the items mentioned. Item 1 should be straight forward enough.

Dean’s New Year’s Resolutions – Come on asshat you need to do this stuff!!

He chuckled at his drunken self’s message of encouragement.

1.       Give up the booze. I mean it Dean. Give it up. Your liver will thank you.

Dean sighed and looked up at the half full bottle of whiskey on his desk. His former self did have a point, his alcohol consumption had gone up considerably in the past few years and it had taken 2 and a half bottles of hard liquor to get himself drunk the other night. Enough was enough. He grabbed the bottle and the other unopened bottle hidden in his desk draw and shuffled out to the kitchen. Taking a deep breath he opened the lids and poured both bottles down the drain.

“So long Jack, nice knowing you.” Dean said as he threw the empty bottles in the trash. He opened the fridge to see 3 beers but figured he could leave those for Sam. He pulled the list out of his dressing gown pocket and looked over the next point.

2.       Try to eat healthy. Lay off on the greasy diner food. Try a salad (urgh).

Well. He certainly wasn’t going to eat that Kale crap again. No matter what Sam said. But sure, he could probably cut down on the greasy burgers. He looked down at his stomach and gave it a pinch. Hmmm. Yeah perhaps I could do with getting back into shape. He contemplated trying to run after demons whilst carrying a spare tire and pushing 40 and shuddered. Nope. No way that’s happening! Okay so he may not be able to turn back the clock but he could certainly sort out his fitness… which led to the next item on the list…

3.       Attempt the gym. Running away from monsters only gets you so far you ass.

Ha. That figures, even drunk Dean wasn’t sure he could manage this one, adding the ‘attempt’ in there like that alone was an accomplishment. This was all Sam’s area after all. Though since Cas had been staying with them he had been running with Sam in the mornings and Dean had heard them sparring in the gym on some quiet afternoons between research. Though he wasn’t sure how that worked since Cas technically still had his grace and surely could beat Sam every time? Not that Dean had ever been bothered to find out… plus if he was truly honest with himself, he was kinda jealous that he hadn’t been asked to join them. Sparring with Cas might have been fun if it wasn’t for all that bad tension still between them. Dean sighed again as his thoughts carried him to a darker place and tried to shrug them off. He strolled down to the gym. So far he hadn’t heard either Sam or Cas this morning so either they were both still avoiding him or they were out.

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Oriental Garden Makati

Located along Don Chino Roces (formerly Pasong Tamo) corner Urban Avenue. It is a block away from Buendia; situated west side of the business district of Makati City. It is conveniently accessible by all types of public transportation. A 5-minute ride or 30-minute leisure walk to Ayala center (Glorietta/Greenbelt) and 5-minute walk to The Makati Medical Center. A perfect alternative to expensive hotel accommodations for those traveling for pleasure or business. A safe and secure community in the heart of Makati City.


Ready For Occupancy Condominium

Studio Type (33 sqm) Php 2,500,000 - Cash Payment

1BR (47 sqm) Php 4,700,000

2BR (102.5 sqm) Php 8.5m up to 9m

Penthouse Unit  (223.4 sqm) Php 16M up to 17m

for details and viewing

contact SHERWIN at: 0907-4707779

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Cancer Fighting Fic #8 (Part 3/3)

FINALLY, the last part of Cancer Fighting Fic #8 - made for the lovely @fergus80! Sorry it took so long. But, this one has SMUT AHOY. So hopefully that makes up for the delay. 

If you need to catch up/refresh your memory, here’s Part 1/Part 2 and on AO3/FF

Fair warning - this one is rated M!!! SMUT AHOY

They stayed up for another couple of hours (much later than Henry’s bedtime) sprawled out on the couch, just drinking hot cocoa and getting to know each other. Actually, Emma was having Killian’s share of cocoa after he insisted it was far too sweet - his nose crinkling adorably in disgust as the saccharine concoction hit his lips.

After learning that Killian was a sailor, Henry’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. Emma had changed into a pair of yoga pants and a gray v-neck while her son peppered the poor man with what seemed like a million questions. He was an unfailingly curious kid, and Killian was a natural storyteller.

About an hour into their chatting Henry had brashly asked what had happened to Killian’s hand. He’d flinched at the question, and Emma’s brows knit in confusion before she looked down to realize that he was wearing a glove on one hand, and it was unnaturally stiff - clearly a prosthetic. How did she miss that?

She chided him for his bluntness, saying that you don’t just ask people things like that, but Killian insisted it was alright. He was intentionally vague about what had happened, simply that he lost it in an altercation of sorts many years ago.

Henry took the answer in stride, but Emma’s stomach churned at the obvious dodge - there was clearly a lot more to that story. The emotional pain of it was written into his tight-lipped smile as he continued to answer Henry’s questions about the sea and his ship. Even the shadows of the physical pain were evident in the way he rolled his shoulder back a few times on that side, and she imagined he was mentally clenching and unclenching the fist of his phantom hand - willing those pains to subside.

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