Céleste  Took  Him  In,  Gaze  Flicking  Over  Him  Once  —  Slow  And  Measured.  He 

DAISY EDGAR-JONES via Instagram

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The Americans - 3x13 “March 8, 1983″

lowkey    ,    pissed    that    dua    lipa    isn't    there    js.

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Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

okay  friends  ,  i  am  finally  trying  to  get  started  here  on  indie  after  quite  a  few  years  of  being  off  the  indie  scene.  but  i  am  honestly  thrilled  to  get  back  into  the  swing  of  things.  as  said  ,  it's  taken  me  quite  some  time  to  get  started  and  these  days  i  barely  know  how  to  get  started  again  ——  that  being  said  …  consider  this  a  PLOTTING  CALL  !  !  !  !  !  !

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .   sooooo  ,  if  you  would  possibly  be  interested  in  writing  together  —  like  this  and  i  will  contact  to  potentially  write  together.  ♥

the sound of racked weights met her before she even stepped fully into the room. and then — there he was. shirtless, glistening, halfway through his set and entirely too aware of how he looked doing it. her gaze skimmed over him just once — the glint of sweat on his back, the way his muscles flexed as he racked the weights — and then promptly returned to his face, unbothered. she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of lingering. still, the corner of her mouth twitched. a barely-there smile that came and went before it could settle. "how thoughtful," she said, stepping further into the room, clipboard in hand, completely unfazed — or at least appearing so. "you really shouldn’t have.” she was dressed in sleek black leggings and a slate grey sports bra layered beneath a cropped long-sleeve — neutral, fitted, entirely functional. she caught his eye, letting the air hang just a second before answering his question. "as for what’s on the repertoire?" her voice was smooth. "a lot of legs. core work. mobility. i figured if you’re going to insist on lifting like your life's a nike ad, we might as well make sure you don’t move like a fridge."

♡ — closed starter for @velvetysage

alec's halfway through a set when celeste walks in unannounced. his shirt is off, earbuds in, and there's sweat slicking down his back. this isn't about impressing her, but he's not above showing the blonde that he doesn't need her to keep up. racking the weights with a touch more force than necessary, he pulls one airpod out to speak. "don’t worry, cel, i saved all the boring stuff for you," alec says, barely sparing her a glance. this is how their dynamic always goes, competitive with a hint of underlying tension. "what's on the workout repertoire today?"

"  don’t  try  to  make  me  feel  old  just  yet.  but  you’re  probably  right,  i myself  might  be  the  only  one  who  can  handle  all  my  charm  and  nonsense. as  for  blowing  you  away  ?  i’ve  got plenty  of  tricks  up  my  sleeve.  maybe  i’ll  get  you  a  house  with  a  secret  room  just  for  me  to  hang  out  in.  no,  wait  —  you  can  have  the  big  house,  i’ll  take  the  part  where  i  build  a  world-class  kitchen.  that  way,  i  can  wow  you  with  my  cooking  ...  and  maybe,  just  maybe,  make  you  think  twice  about  that  whole  separate  wings  thing.  but  hey,  i’ll  keep  working  on  that  proposal  just  in  case  you’re  actually  serious  about  this  pact.  "

"  just  bringing  it  up  to  see  if  you  have  a  memory  of  a  goldfish  or  not  .  .  .  bold  of  you  to  assume  that  i'd  put  up  with  it  if  we  get  married  ,  might  have  to  buy  a  house  big  enough  so  i  could  be  locked  on  the  other  end  of  it  .  oh  ?  i  want  to  be  wowed  ,  think  you  can  blow  me  away  ?  "