#fat cana is real To Me

[farthaus]

bby grl ur so full of love and whimsy never change

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

141 as your drug dealer boyfriend

Ghost- Let's be real with ourselves, Ghost is not a good man. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his. He will do anything to get what he wants and there is no stopping him. It's what made him a great soldier, and it's what makes him a great kingpin. He moves weight to put it lightly. There isn't a moment where an uncut key is unmoving; from a warehouse, to a plane (or car, or train), to a distributor, to a pusher, to up someone's nose. He'll try to do some damage control, make sure things aren't cut with fent, but that's only to make sure customers keep coming back. He likes to keep his hands clean, in the sense that he'll never be the one to pull the trigger on anyone that's out of line. Living up to his name, no one knows what he looks like. Hell, a lot of people don't even think he's real.

But when it comes to you, Simon's a different man. No talk about work, just you and him. Other than the multiple hidden guns around the house and Glock he sleeps with, life is normal with you. Holiday homes in the French countryside and Bahamas. Designer everything. Sports cars in all your favorite colors. You want for nothing. It's the life he wanted for you. After all those years of crying and hurt when he was away for weeks or months, you deserved the world. Want the new Hermès bag? You got it. Can't choose between the black or white louboutins? Get both. Stop eating you out because you can't feel your toes anymore? Sorry love, only thing he can't do for you.

Soap- Johnny is a small business owner. Weighs everything out by his own hand. Presses his own pills. Let's you help baggie everything up. A social butterfly, this man is at every concert, rave, or music festival. Sometimes he has a friend help push his stuff when he just wants to stay home with you, but for the most part he's his own salesman. And a damn good one. Never has overstock. No matter how much he brings with him, he'll always sellout.

Has a supernatural sense of being shorted. Can tell if a bag is even a few grams off just by holding it.

"Ye'r an idiot if ye think ye kin short me."

And when the other party denies, he always keeps a pocket scale on him, setting the parcel on it. And sure enough, he's always right.

He'll come home with a few grand, the only job you have is to sit there and look pretty. And roll his spliffs. Sitting in his lap, tucking the rolling paper into itself and licking it closed while he counts out a fat wad of cash. He hands you a fat stack,

"A've never bin good wi' money. Ye know how to spend it better than me."

He never touches the stuff he sells, no need to when all the dopamine he needs is right between your legs.

"Ten times better than any o tha' shite, anyways."

He pants in your ear while folding you in half, firm grip on your throat.

Gaz- When it comes to psychedelics, Kyle is your go-to man. He's a fucking genius, synthesizes his own DMT and LSD in a lab. It's a state of the art facility, clean with the latest and greatest equipment available. He supplies the whole Northeast. If it's a hallucinogen, it's most likely Gaz's product. And if it's good, it's definitely his. He has a cozy set up with some "organization" that he cooks for. Steers clear of actually selling to people, no need to when his clients line his pockets so well. Never brings work home, he even wears different clothes when he's in the lab.

He has a set schedule he has to adhere to but sometimes he's able to take vacations with you. And that's how you ended up bent over a balcony watching the sunset in Punta Cana,

"I work so hard to make you happy, now it's my turn yeah?"

A breeze sends a shiver up your spine while he kisses your shoulder,

"I know a private beach where you can even out those tan lines,"

Of course he doesn't give a shit about that, he just wants to fuck you silly on the seaside (and show off to anyone who might be watching.)

Price- Caring and nurturing, the man naturally has a green thumb. And alongside his prized heirloom tomatoes, he grows really, really good weed. Has a whole growroom in his basement, decked out with proper ventilation, ACs, UV lights, the works. The man grows medical grade weed that private clinics buy from him. He's legit. And of course he serves the public as well under the table, sells only to people he knows and established clients can refer others to him. He treats his plants like his babies, even going as far as to play music for them (according to him classical music helps them grow better???). You don't know where he finds the time, but he also made you rose garden for your anniversary. He brings up the idea of a family every so often. He'll finish as deep inside of you as possible,

"Let's replace that plant nursery for a real one, yeah love?"

Gonna write actual stories for each one if y'all like this ( . * 3 * . )/`

[autumnmoonsurveys]

NEW YEAR’S DAY 2024 4:10 PM

(I love her bathroom!)

What's for dinner tonight?

Pork & sauerkraut with garlic mashed potatoes!

Do you prefer cold or room temperature drinking water?

Cool, not cold. So, closer to room temp. I don’t put ice in my water.

How many different things have you had to drink today?

Water with my morning pill and two mugs of instant espresso with fat-free half & half and a little sugar. About to have my third and final.

When you read a book, do you use a bookmark or simply dog ear/fold the top of the page?

USUALLY, I just remember the page number I’m on.

What's the nearest city to you with a population of at least one million?

Philadelphia is the one PA city with 1mil+.

During the pandemic, did you use reusable or disposable masks?

Both. I bought us reusable masks at first, but learned I preferred the disposables.

What is your favourite local restaurant?

There aren’t a whole lot of “local” restaurants here, but I’ll say Vince’s for their chicken salad wrap.

Have you ever been harassed while minding your own business walking down the street?

Of course.

Do you own a gun? Have you ever thought about getting one?

No; yes.

Do you know anyone who owns a gun?

Tons of people.

What year is/was your 10 year high school reunion? Will you (or did you) attend?

2020, and no.

Do you cut your sandwiches into triangles or rectangles?

Either-or.

Have you ever seen a panda in real life? Where was it?

At zoos, I’m sure.

Are there any postcards hanging around the house? If so, where are they from?

No.

Does it snow where you live?

Yes. It snowed right at midnight the big, chunky, heavy snowflakes and it was magical.

When was the last time you took a flight? Where did you go?

Aug. ‘21, to Mexico — Cancún airport. I had paid $6K (all-inclusive resort & flights) for my husband and me to travel with our friends to Punta Cana again this past August, but we had to take the loss and stay back because the house we bought that we knew we belonged in was going up for auction during our vacation. We won though! 🤍 Side note: it wasn’t a foreclosure; farm auctions are popular around here. It’s a great way to make tons of money if you’re selling a home with a farm or lots of land.

Is there a flight path over your house?

Yep.

Does your neighbourhood have a lot of hills?

We do live on a mountain.

Have you ever had covid? What was your experience like?

Just once, to my knowledge. It was mid-Jan. ‘21. I had my usual flu-like symptoms of severe body aches, headache, and feeling like I’m freezing. It was a 24-hour ailment.

Do you have any alcohol in your house right now?

Yes.

Do you tend to keep alcohol around the house for when you might want it?

I don’t drink, but my husband does.

Has a romantic partner ever given you a pet as a gift?

No.

Do you ever talk on the phone with friends?

No.

What was the last thing someone said to you in person?

My son was explaining to me how he slipped out of the trampoline since it’s wet.

Are you hungry right now? What would you like to eat?

Nah.

How far away are your parents right now?

I don’t know where my mother is, but she lives 7.5 miles away. My father is deceased.

Do you believe in aliens?

I do.

Have you ever been bitten by a spider?

I believe so.

Do you own any clothing made from animal products like leather or fur?

No.

What's the best vacation you've ever been on?

My favorite was Oct. ‘17 when my husband and I took our four little kids (and my mom for help) to Disney World for a week over my daughter’s sixth birthday. Our kids were 15 months, just shy of 4, just turning 6, and just shy of 7. 🥹 They’re now 7½, 10, 12, and 13! 😭

[cheesewithchips]

ho ho ho, and a bottle of rum: a forever hold your peace christmas drabble

long time, huh? i know i suck in every way possible but i thought i’d grant a little christmas miracle with a christmas drabble that i started a very long time ago. after a little tweaking i was finally able to make it work and am ready to share it with you all now! so without further ado, here is a little 5k+ non-canon christmas drabble full of santa, booze, and the lovely fhyp gang. hope you all missed them as much as i have, and happy holidays!

Christmastime was meant to be the most wonderful time of the year – there were only hundreds of songs written in its honor. This was when happiness was meant to linger in the air along with that hint of holiday magic that couldn’t bring anyone down. Birdy Thomas liked to believe that she could feel that magic of the holidays whenever December finally rolled around, when she finally got to see the people she loved at their most festive. But despite the joy and jubilance of Christmas, there was nothing that could have gotten the scowl off her face at that very moment. Why was it there one might have asked? None other than the holly, jolly Santa Claus himself.

(Well, the one at the Westfield Shopping Centre anyway.)

She was too nice of a person, she thought. Her day could’ve been filled with Christmas films and heated blankets in her flat, but instead she was watching her neighbors’ twins while her neighbors spent long hours at the hospital treating trauma patients. While a day of watching movies might have sufficed for Birdy when it came to Mia and Tommy Winchester, who were some of the most restless kids that she knew, they needed more stimulating activities to pass their time.

With the combination of doe eyed looks and more ‘please Birdy?’s than she could take, they’d ended up right where they were currently; waiting for the shopping centre’s Santa to finally see them. Birdy only wished she’d opted for some more sensible shoes as opposed to the heeled booties she’d decided on at the last minute.

“Birdy, I’m tired,” Birdy’s eyes averted from the long queue ahead of her, glancing down to catch the look of discomfort on Tommy’s face. “When are we going to see Santa?”

Birdy sighed, ruffling the top of Tommy’s curls. “You’d have to tell me that, mate.”

“This isn’t Santa,” Mia declared, folding her arms across her chest. Tommy turned towards her, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“What are you talking about?” Tommy inquired, taking on a defensive look almost immediately. “Of course it’s Santa. He’s got the beard and everything.”

“So? You think that every man with a white beard is Santa?” Mia retorted swiftly. “Santa doesn’t exist.”

Birdy’s eyes widened just as Tommy’s mouth dropped widely. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! Santa exists! How do you think we get those presents under the tree?”

“Mummy and Daddy.”

Tommy scoffed. “They do not give us Christmas presents. Only presents we get from them are on our birthday.”

Now it was Mia’s turn to scoff, her hands going onto her hips before her head tilted upwards. “Birdy, could you please tell Tommy that Santa doesn’t exist? Because I’m pretty sure that I overheard my teacher say something to my mum about how he doesn’t and my teacher doesn’t lie.”

“Birdy, could you please tell her that Santa does exist?” Tommy countered with a hard glare in his sister’s direction. “Because Mum and Dad have said that he does and I’m pretty sure that they wouldn’t lie either!”

“You think that someone as fat as Santa can really squeeze into every chimney in the world? Or knows what every kid in the world is doing enough to put them on a naughty or nice list?”

“He’s magical! He can do what normal people can’t!”

“Oh yeah? What about people who don’t have chimneys? Do you think he just skips them? And how can reindeer carry a huge man all across earth? Does that make sense to you?”

“He’s magic. Magic people can do magical things. That’s the whole point of them being magical in the first place!”

The twins ended up silent, both peering towards Birdy for a confirming statement that she knew very well she couldn’t give. She instead let out an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of her neck before pointing forward.

“Lookie there! Queue’s moving! Who would have thought?” She decided to use as her cop out, taking this opportunity to skitter ahead. Mia and Tommy continued to bicker behind her and all she could do was let out a sigh in relief. Though she did have a drama background and the ability to do improv like a champ, there was a difference between being able to conjure up replies for a stage and conjuring up an answer for whether a childhood character was real or not.

The wait was proving to be even more unbearable than Birdy first thought, fifteen more minutes going by before she was ready to kick her shoes off and sit down on the assortment of presents that had been stacked high beside her. Mia and Tommy were even worse than she was, outright voicing their complaints and whines until Birdy was close to pulling her hair out.

They were almost at the front of the queue when a tall body wedged their way between Birdy and the kids, at least six foot of person standing right in front of Birdy while whistling ‘It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas’. She glanced at the man up and down, a scoff leaving the back of her throat as her eyes narrowed on him dangerously. If there was one thing Birdy Thomas didn’t tolerate it was being jumped in a queue – especially one she’d spent so much time to get to the front of.

“Hey!” She exclaimed to the back of the man’s beanie clad head. “We’ve been here for a great amount of time and you think it’s alright to cut ahead like that? I don’t know where you were raised exactly but surely you were taught better manners than that.”

“I dunno, I was pretty bad back in primary school,” Birdy’s temper immediately eased upon hearing the responding voice, a crooked smile on Harry’s face as he turned around to face her. “Must’ve never been corrected.”

Birdy rolled her eyes. “Liar. You were a prince in primary.”

“I know I was,” He replied smugly, leaning down to leave a kiss on her lips.

“How nice of you to join us, Dimps,” She said with a shake of her head, glancing down to take in the red sweater that Harry was wearing that had a cute Christmas tree dead center. Mia and Tommy immediately rushed towards him afterwards, their arms wrapping around his waist to give him a squeeze. “Oi, don’t act so happy to see him. It’s just Harry.”

“Yes, but they love and appreciate ‘Just Harry’. Apparently more than you do,” Harry gave her a pointed glance as he hugged the twins back. “How are you lot? Ready to see Santa?”

“So ready!” Tommy exclaimed, grinning. “But Mia thinks that Santa isn’t real. Isn’t that weird?”

“You’re weird for believing in that old man in the first place!” Mia retorted. “You’re just weird in general.”

“You’re weird!”

“No, you are!”

Harry chuckled as he watched the two of them, giving Birdy time to roll onto her tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “I was about to go insane.”

“Trust me, I could tell,” Harry said, laughing slightly. “Did you know that your texts show what kind of mood you’re in? You’ve been emoji-less all day. I was about to ring the police.”

“I am floundering,” She said through grit teeth. “I can’t be the one to break a little boy’s heart, Harry. In fact, I won’t. I already did it to Izzy when she was younger and I swear to god she’s held the biggest grudge over my head ever since then so I’m not going to be the one to do it here. Might as well go ahead and tell him about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny if I did and there’s no way I’m going to ruin anything that–”

“Bird,” Harry said simply, the simple utterance of her name causing her to shut up on sight.

She wet her lips, nodding slowly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just.. breathe,” Harry suggested, cheeky half smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine. Even if he did figure out that Santa doesn’t exist, it happens to everyone eventually. But he won’t, alright?”

Birdy blinked once. “I just want to go Zara.”

“It won’t be more than five minutes, muppet. Be patient,” He said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“You’re right, I suppose,” Birdy muttered, shaking her head. “Times like this remind me how I am the overreacting melodrama whilst you are the calmer and levelheaded one of the two of us. Maybe I should start listening to what you say.”

“Mm, both you and I know that’s not going to happen,” Harry said, slipping an arm around Birdy’s waist and drawing her close enough to kiss her once more. “I actually wanted to talk about something–”

“Queue’s moving!” Tommy exclaimed, tugging on Birdy’s arm and jumping ahead excitedly.

“A babysitter’s job is never done,” Birdy sighed, escaping Harry’s grip and following behind the twins. There was a single family left stopping them from finally meeting the centre’s Santa Claus and it couldn’t have come soon enough. Tommy was bouncing on his heels at the thought of seeing Santa while Mia was standing idly by looking all but enthusiastic at what was ahead. The varying personalities in the two were apparent, it was almost intriguing for Birdy to watch.

She glanced back in Harry’s direction, catching his hands going into his back pockets while he bit down on his bottom lip. “Have you got plans tonight?”

“Was planning on packing,” He replied. “I’ve barely made any headway and I leave tomorrow afternoon.”

“Gang’s all meeting at Stanza tonight and I was hoping for a fun little hangout before we all go our separate ways,” Birdy replied, taking out her phone and briefly flashing her and Liam’s text log in Harry’s direction before stuffing it away again. “Besides, how much do you really need to pack for Punta Cana anyway? Some swim trunks? Sunglasses? Tequila?”

Harry let out a small breath, looking displeased. “Another year without snow. You know how I feel about that.”

“Yes, but not all of us can be so fortunate,” Birdy countered. “I know you don’t like hot Christmases but just know that there are some people who would die to be suntanning on a beach after unwrapping presents.”

“You’re of a different breed, Birdy Thomas,” Harry declared, bringing a smile to Birdy’s lips. “But if you are so keen on suntanning then you could always–”

“Oh my god,” Birdy cut him off, a gasp sounding as her hand clapped over her mouth.

“What?” Harry asked, furrowing his brows. “Is everything alright?”

“I know that I’m the overreacting melodrama and everything so please confirm if I’m going mad or not,” She started, already starting to snicker. “But does Santa look familiar to you or is it just me?”

Harry subtly averted his gaze from Birdy to the bearded man only a few steps away from them, his eyes squinting before his mouth dropped as well. There wasn’t a chance that the chuckles from either of them would have ceased, especially when the family ahead of them finally dispersed and Tommy and Mia began walking in Santa’s direction.

“Ho, ho, ho, happy Christmas little man!” Santa said, voice deep and throaty. “And is this your sister here? How are you doing me little peach?”

Tommy hadn’t moved any further, a frown beginning to settle on his lips. “Niall?”

“Told you he wasn’t real,” Mia said in a snooty tone, her nose going into the air. “Birdy, Harry, didn’t I tell him so?”

“Yeah… I’ll be coming to Stanza tonight,” Harry said through his laughs, watching as Niall glanced towards him and Birdy in absolute horror. “Hey mate!”

Birdy waved at Niall afterwards, watching as his gaze dropped to his lap. “It’ll definitely a night you don’t want to miss.”

Birdy couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed as hard as she had been for the past five minutes. She didn’t need to tell more than a sentence of her ‘Niall is the Shopping Centre Santa’ tale for the whole bar to burst into belly grabbing, tear wiping laughter. Even Samson had to pause from making drinks to laugh at that new bit of knowledge.

“I’m sorry, but there’s just no way,” Darcy said, sputtering up a laugh before collecting herself. “Niall’s really Santa? Like Kris Kringle, joy to the world, ‘merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight’ Santa?”

“Yes Darce, I don’t know how many times I have to confirm this. I saw it with my own two eyes,” Birdy said, her body turned in Darcy’s direction. “He was miffed once he saw we were there. Thought he wouldn’t see anyone he knew all day but somehow me and H were lucky enough. Weren’t we, Dimps?”

“We certainly were,” Harry chimed in with a smirk. “But hey, let’s not give him a hard time. He’s just trying to make his Christmas money like all the rest of us.”

“Hmm, yeah. I’m still going to make fun of him. I’m going to destroy him actually!” Darcy announced happily. “Where is the little leprechaun anyway? I’ve never been happier to see him in my entire life.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone as cruel as you are, Darcy,” Liam said, a hand going through his hair. “It’s scary but also a little admirable.”

“I think we should listen to Harry,” Anastasia said, sounding as sweet as Anastasia usually did. “We all know Niall. He could be out there prostituting or selling parts for money, but instead he decided to do something to make the kids happy! Can’t we all appreciate that?”

“Absolutely not!” Louis scoffed, poking his head from behind Darcy. “Can we all grasp that this is probably one of the funniest things that any of us has heard all year? I can understand if Harry and Ana want to be on Santa’s nice list by giving Horan the benefit of the doubt, but this is just plain hilarious!”

“Niall is Santa so he could definitely put them there,” Darcy joked, sending herself back into laughter. She and Louis high fived, rising giggles from Liam and Birdy as well. “I swear; this is never going to get old.”

“You lot are mean,” Ana mumbled as she turned the drink in front of her with the candy cane printed straw she had been sipping out of.

A jingling of bells filled the room shortly afterwards, the shuffling of heavy boots following as a flash of red darted into the pub. Almost on cue, the heavy sniggers began again. Niall had finally arrived, and he hadn’t even bothered to shed his costume before entering.

“Yeah alright. Laugh it up,” Niall rolled his blue eyes, pulling the hat off his head and brushing the snow off his jacket. “I don’t care what you wankers say – if it weren’t for the suit, I definitely would have caught pneumonia by now.”

“I didn’t think it could get any better than it already was,” Liam got out, though his laughter was prominent enough. “Happy Christmas to us all, truly.”

“You’re a right dickhead for telling them all,” Niall shot at Birdy, who hid behind Harry as soon as Niall started to address her. “But then again, what else is new?”

“Oi, they would have found out anyway, wouldn’t they?” She replied, holding up her hands in defense. “Besides, I think you make quite the Old Saint Nick. Even though you nearly made Tommy cry.”

“Dickhead,” Niall reiterated slowly, turning towards Samson. “Get me something strong and peppermint please.”

“Say no more, mate,” Samson nodded. “Would you like me to add something in there for your reindeer or will they be servicing themselves this evening?”

“Come on,” Darcy cackled, her head resting down on the bartop. “I’m trying to be nice here and you’re all not helping one bit.”

“Oh no need Red, go ahead and hit me with everything you have,” Niall told her, shrugging his shoulders. “I can take your weak insults any day.”

“I’ll let you get some liquor in your system first. Might make it easier for you to take them,” Darcy mocked a kiss his way, prompting his eyes to roll. “But seriously, how is the job? How many kids did you promise ponies and functioning families today?”

Niall waited until he had taken down a good amount of the drink Samson handed him before deciding to reply. “You know what? Being Santa really isn’t as easy a job as you all might think it is. It takes a certain skill and finesse that not everyone has. You really have to get into character for something like. None of you would understand.”

Birdy held up a hand. “I act. I think I would understand that better than anyone.”

“Touché,” Ana nodded in agreement.

“Well then why don’t you and your smart mouth try doing what I do then?” Niall inquired, his mouth on the rim of his glass as he took another swig.

“Are you challenging me Niall? Is this a challenge? Is this really what you want to get into? Cause my Santa could wipe the floor with yours, I promise you,” Birdy inquired straight into Niall’s ear, his face scrunching up in reply.

“You’re like an annoying fly that I can’t kill,” He muttered, waving a dismissing hand Birdy’s way.

“You love me,” She said, giving him a knowing glance before grinning at him. “Please continue. Being Santa is a hard feat. Tell us more.”

Though he rolled his eyes beforehand, he did end up continuing. “You have to convince these kids that you know exactly what you’re doing. Personally, I like to throw meself into the job, make the kids feel like I’m their friend before promising them that toy or service they want.”

“I love how you’re talking about it like it’s a real job, that’s probably the most interesting part of all of this,” Harry deduced, looking genuinely interested.

“Even though it’s not and by the time Boxing Day rolls around, you’re looking for employment once again,” Louis pointed out, giving Niall a look of sympathy.

“Maybe so, but at least I can pay my rent for the next two months. Was I able to say that before this job?” Niall asked.

“Hell no,” Darcy held up her own glass as she shook her head.

“Think that was meant to be rhetorical,” Ana whispered to Darcy.

“Trust me, I know,” Darcy said with a smirk.

“Your arse would be the first one on my naughty list, Red. Be lucky I’m not actually Santa Claus or else you’d be getting straight coal this year,” Niall grumbled. “Could I get another glass?”

Birdy tutted, watching as her friend received a new drink. “How can you promise things to little kids when you can’t even get your life together in the first place, Ni?”

“How can you talk to me about children like you aren’t wearing a skimpy pair of Christmas themed knickers right now for everyone to see?” Niall shot back, getting everyone’s eyes wide. Birdy scoffed, shifting awkwardly in her chair and pulling the hem of her shirt down which were slightly ridden up before. “Are those the ones that light up or the ones that sing?”

“You’re literally the most abominable creature I know.”

“You want coal too?” Niall questioned. “Annoying bint.”

“I was trying to be nice!” Birdy exclaimed with a scoff. “The whole reason I came here was to make sure no one made fun of you as bad as they could. I could be helping Harry pack for Punta Cana right now but I wanted to make sure that these people let you live.”

“They wouldn’t have known about it if it weren’t for you! You strategically planned this, don’t try and act innocent,” Niall shot back at her. “And if you’d rather be packing than seeing me, not only are you annoying but you’re mad too.”

Birdy stuck her tongue out at him before settling her elbow onto the countertop, peering to her left to catch Harry’s eye contact. “And you. What do you want? You’re giving me a look.’

“What look?” Harry asked innocently.

“That look,” She said with a tap to his slightly pouted lips. “The look you give when you want something.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re not the only one who can read people around here, Dimps,” Birdy remarked, a smile playing on her lips.

Birdy’s smile drew one out of Harry almost too easily, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he leaned closer to her. “Well, I would like to see these Christmas knickers Niall was going on about.”

Birdy’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Oh really?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She hummed, nodding slowly. “If you end up on the nice list you might be able to. Or if I end up on the naughty list. Either or, your chances are looking pretty nice right now.”

Harry laughed, his green eyes flashing up before they went back down. “I’ve also got this Christmas wish of mine that you could very possibly grant for me.”

“Little old me?”

“Yes, you,” He confirmed playfully. “I’ve been wondering – hoping actually –  if, uh, if it was possible for you to maybe–”

He hadn’t finished his sentence before a loud whistle cut him off, followed by Louis’ voice.  “Do you lot want to join our drinking game? Or would you rather gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes while we’re all pissed out of our minds?”

Harry laughed awkwardly. “We were actually–”

“A drinking game?” Birdy repeated, her attention piqued. “What kind?”

“It’s called ’All I Want For Christmas Is You,’” Liam said slowly, waving his hand in the air like the words were hovering above his head. “We go around and we all say what we want someone else to do for Christmas – a risqué, grown up version of course. If that person doesn’t do what they’re asked of then they take a shot.”

“It’s like truth or dare but without the truth, and Christmas-y,” Anastasia explained further. “But no worries, embarrassment is definitely still a part of it.”

“I’m gonna end up really drunk by the end of this, aren’t I?” Birdy asked candidly.

“There’s a very, very high possibility,” Darcy replied.

“Count me in then,” Birdy smiled, taking the shot glass that Niall slid her way. “You playing, Harry?”

Harry sighed, shaking his head before smiling half heartedly. “I’ll pass. I drove.”

“You could sleep at mine! Come on,” She insisted, shaking her boyfriend’s arm repeatedly. “Pleaseeeeee?”

“I’m alright, I promise,” He said, giving her hand a squeeze before leaning against the counter. “Besides, it’s been awhile since I saw you all make arses of yourselves.”

“Say no more, Styles!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ll go first. All I want for Christmas is for Santa Claus Horan to take me on his sleigh.”

More laughter followed, along with the clatter of Niall’s shot glass once he drained it in one go.

“Oh my god,” Birdy said, running a hand over her face as she moved closer to her bathroom mirror. “I am so drunk right now.”

She staggered backwards, accidentally running into Harry who grabbed her by the waist and steadied her. Birdy had been drunk enough times to know how to handle herself whenever she was, but she couldn’t deny that having an extra set of eyes to keep track of her didn’t hurt. Especially on nights when she was feeling as wasted as she was right then. Harry always took care of her, most times more than she felt she needed to be. But that’s how he had always been, constantly making sure that she was alright.

“I should have dropped out sometime after the eighth. The ninth one was that big holy grail moment. The whole ‘you should stop now but you know you won’t’ kind of thing,” She rambled on, shutting the lights off in the bathroom before beginning to stalk towards her bedroom. “But I’m much too stubborn. You know I don’t like backing down from a challenge.”

“I know, baby,” Harry indulged her with a laugh, following behind her. “It’s one of your best and worst qualities.”

“It’s definitely one of my worst,” She said before flopping onto her bed and closing her eyes. “I’m giving up drinking.”

“Really?” Harry asked with a clear tone of disbelief. He sat down beside her, his fingers pushing the hair out of the way so he could see her face. “Now that would be the day.”

“I mean it, Harry,” She tried to say adamantly, trying not to slip over her words. “From this moment forward I am done with liquor. I’m a new woman.”

“New Years is right around the corner, Bird.”

She paused, swearing under her breath once she realized he was correct. “It’ll have to be after that then because New Year’s is always best when you’re a little bit drunk.”

“Just a little bit?”

“…A lotta bit.”

Birdy wasn’t sure if Harry’s doubt annoyed her due to his lack of faith or just showed how much her boyfriend truly knew her drunken ways. Either way, she was far too inebriated to worry about it.

“The room’s spinning a bit,” Birdy confessed, her words muffled by her duvet. She was sure that Harry had heard her regardless though, considering how he kicked off his shoes and slid further up the bed, pulling her into his lap afterwards. She closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne and body wash. No matter how far away she might have felt mentally, he always brought her back to some semblance of reality.

“If you throw up on me, I’m leaving,” Harry remarked with a poke to Birdy’s side.

“I wasn’t planning that but it could always be arranged,” She muttered into the crook of his neck with a smirk on her face. “Anyway, you can’t leave. Cause I won’t see you again until after New Years and I’d like a bit more time with you.”

“You’ve been with me most of the day. That’s not enough for you?”

Birdy shook her head slowly. “I’d be around you all the time if you’d let me. Unfortunately, you find me irritating and call me mental all the time so that doesn’t happen.”

“But am I lying?”

“’Tis the season to be a dick, I guess,” Birdy scoffed while Harry chuckled right against her forehead, stopping only to press a kiss against her skin, making her even warmer than she already was. “M’gonna miss you. Truly. I’ll be in Leeds eating Yorkshire puddings and missing the hell out of you. Meanwhile you’ll be in an island paradise. Life is not fair.”

She’d expected a declaration of the same caliber from Harry’s end, one where he went on about just how much he would be thinking about her in the sunny weather or how he would avert his eyes every time he saw a woman slicked down in oil, but instead there was silence. Just Harry combing through her hair in a way gentle enough to put her asleep right there and then.

“You know, I’ve been trying to ask you something all day,” He finally spoke after another long bout of silence. Birdy was so beside herself that she couldn’t even pinpoint what he was talking about. “Should have been asking you this a long time ago actually.”

“Asking me what?” Birdy asked quietly, opening one of her eyes up. “Is it about my knickers? Cause you can see them if you want to. All you have to do is ask nicely.”

Harry chuckled, looking at Birdy like she was the most endearing thing in the world. “No, not your knickers. I’m sure they’re very nice though.”

“Are you sure? They light up.”

“Yes, Birdy. I’m sure.”

“Then what?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come.”

Birdy’s eyebrows went up in an inconspicuous fashion. “So you don’t want to see my knickers but you’re asking me if I want to come? Because the answer will always be yes.”

“Jesus, Bird,” Harry ran a hand over his face, looking at her incredulously. “I meant if you wanted to come on holiday with me.”

Birdy couldn’t help but widen both of her eyes, pushing herself up so she could look at him properly. “To Punta Cana?” She asked for clarification.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “If you wanted to.”

“‘If I wanted to?’ Harry, do you know the level of that request? That’s at least six Christmas presents all in one,” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Mad, that.”

“I should’ve asked you earlier but I kept getting cut off,” He continued. “I also didn’t know how you’d feel about it, considering how last minute the request was. Plus, you always do Leeds and I know that your mum’s Christmas dinners could have stories written about them and it’s all very last minute but–”

Birdy shushed him before he could finish, putting a finger up to his lips. She wasn’t in a place where she could comprehend his long winded sentences. “You’re inviting me to Punta Cana and you think my mother’s roast is going to hold me back?”

“You say that like her roasts aren’t out of this world,” Harry replied before biting at Birdy’s finger, which she responded to with a frown. “I figure it’s too late for you to reconsider now.”

“Says who?” She questioned with a laugh. “If I wasn’t completely smashed I would be packing right now.”

“Your family wouldn’t hate me if I whisked you away?”

“Would take a lot for them to do that. I guarantee they’ll manage just fine without me,” She said with assurance in her muffled tone. “Mum might have something to say but she’ll get over it. Win and Finn will be able to take third and fourth servings of food without a side eye and Izzy will just ask me to pick her up something. A t-shirt or a man, one or the other.”

“I am not at all surprised,” Harry said, looking pleased. “We can give it another day or two. Time for the both of us to pack and for you to sober up.”

“You don’t think this would be the perfect way to link with your family in the DR? Heavily under the influence?” Birdy asked sarcastically, prompting Harry to let out a loud cackle.

“Your choice, love. Might loosen you up a bit,” He retorted with a shrug.

“Don’t tempt me,” Birdy waggled her eyebrows, nuzzling back into Harry’s neck and letting her eyes fall back closed. “I just have one question for you.”

Harry went back to combing through her hair, his milky tone replying back, “Anything.”

“Are you packing the tequila or should I?”

[pinklinksandkinks]

Meredy Incarnation AU: Blue Pegasus

Age: 21 Dress: She tends to wear a very chic, flattering red dress with a black leather jacket and belt and heeled boots. Her headwraps tend to change with the flow of the “fashions” but are some variation of red and black to match her outfit. Her fingernails are always painted, she wears makeup to highlight her features and uses jewelry as her favorite accessory. Personality: Cheerfully cunning but overly excitable and sometimes loses her cool because of it. She does put up a Dumb Blonde front fairly often because she’s well aware she’s good looking, so she’s also mildly manipulative and extremely flirty. However, she also has a bad habit of going through guys “like tissues” according to Jenny. Relationships: Jenny is her mentor and closest friend, the Trimens are her big brothers, Ichiya is an honorary uncle and she views Master Bob as the best guildmaster in the world. When FT comes back, she re-kindles her friendship with Juvia (and Gray) instantly. Lyon is the easiest mark she’s ever seen and she can’t resist teasing him. She and Sherry are on good terms but she hates Chelia. Magic: While Meredy is part of LS, she’s registered as a non-practicing mage and doesn’t go on missions. However, while her good looks make her an excellent model, it’s her magic that makes her the perfect host. Her large, specially customized bangles cover both wrists completely and mask her magical signature. 

Amazing Art: Here and Here and Here

The prickly sensation didn’t go away, making the man feel itchy and ill-at-ease, which was not a new feeling in this guild, but it was definitely more intense since Jenny and her protege returned.

“Kindly desist,” he finally said, turning slowly, with dignity, to face the young woman leaning over the bar with her chin in her hand. Leisurely, she twirled a lock of hair on her index finger, emerald eyes sparkling with mirth and intense focus that made him squirm internally and straighten externally, “From staring.”

“Studying.”

“Pardon?” Freed’s eyebrow went up, not expecting the answer, eyes fixating on the strange, glowing runes wrapping around his wrist. The matching set was blatantly just across from him, rotating with each twirl, lazy and sensual.

“I’m not staring; I’m studying you. You’re fascinating, Freed Justine, and I want to know more about you. Don’t you know the secret to being a good host is knowing what makes people tick?”

Finger twirling, lips pursed, she considered the offer for a long moment before breaking into a charming smile that took Cana by surprise.

“I’d love to have my fortune told!” leaning forward she added happily, “I had no idea Fairy Tail’s mages dabbled in such things!”

Brow scrunched and face darkening, Cana shuffled the deck, hard, before putting the cards out with excess flourish before ordering, “Take two.”

Face shifting from annoyance to apprehension, Cana ordered a reshuffle, and then another reshuffle, making Meredy’s face cloud over with worry.

“Ha! Now who believes in such things?” Cana smirked at the pink haired woman earning a sheepish grin and an apology.

To say the man was uncomfortable was a gross understatement, as he was backed against the wall (flat against it really) and doing his best to look unaffected by the fact a woman in a really skimpy bikini was hitting on him.

“Do you - must you - why are you in a bikini?” he finally managed to get out, nodding internally at how reasonable and calm the question sounded, ignoring the most minuscule squeak at the end as she pressed against him to get a closer look at his hidden face.

“What… oh, Jenny and I are going to that new waterpark with the guys. Do you like it? I said it makes me look fat, but Hibiki assured me that’s not the case. But I really feel like I should ask a stranger’s opinion because, well, you know how older brothers are, right? I mean, it’s so sweet, but he doesn’t look at me that way, you know? You look like a man who has a good eye…”

Jellal had two good eyes in addition to the knowledge that Ultear did as well, and there was only one safe way to answer this question.

“Hey! Come back!”

Natsu’s blank look didn’t change despite her best attempts, and frankly, Meredy had never been good at pursuit of a man who didn’t seem interested in the sale. However, no one could begrudge her a little cheating lubricant in the middle of a battle right? It was a battle…

“Okay, I give up,” she smiled flatteringly, the small, glowing circle growing on her wrist. Natsu froze mid-grin, eyes widening, before dramatically dropping to the ground clutching his stomach and howling in desolation.

Brushing off her hands, she smirked, “Guys don’t know true pain. I expected better, to be honest.”

“I don’t see why Natsu is being such a big baby about it. It’s not like she stabbed herself in the leg or anything. Now that hurt like hell. What could possibly be worse than that?” Gray grumped, leaning over the balcony railing with his chin in his hand and an unsympathetic scowl on his face.

The two older women of Team Natsu, however, had expressions of elated horror and deep sympathy, subconsciously rubbing their own bodies soothingly.

“Well Gray,” Lucy began when a particularly vicious howl emitted from the arena and Natsu thrashed forcing her to wince, “Ooo, Erza, can you imagine fighting a battle right now?”

“Indeed. It is a nearly impossible task, but I believe she has used it to her advantage quite nicely,” Erza replied before adding off-handedly, “Of course, it would not be nearly so effective on another woman.”

“What… hey, what are you two even talking about?” Gray straightened, not liking he was missing out on the joke. “What’s that chick doing to Natsu? Isn’t she just hungry or some shit?”

“Just… hungry…” the scandal that saturated Lucy’s voice made the last word rise a bit in outrage, “Just hungry, he says.”

Erza’s look never wavered but she pointed out in fairness, “It is a plausible pain for Natsu.”

Wendy looked between the three and asked, “Is that what I think it is?”

Nod.

The small Dragonslayer paled and squeaked, “Oh.”

Silence fell over them as Gray digested that little bit of information, his face paling to match Wendy’s and his eyes wide. Swallowing, he ventured, “So it… hurts that much…huh.”

Down in the stadium, Natsu’s wails had finished as he fetal curled into whimpers and Meredy dusted off her hands,  “Guys don’t know true pain. I expected better, to be honest.”

“I think you’ve got something in your eye…” a slow wink, pursed lips, fluttery eyelashes, it should have been obvious what was going on yet the man looked clueless. Just how old was he that he didn’t know when someone was flirting with him? Still, she was undeterred because he was hot and surprisingly sweet, in a doofy sort of way, not to mention she liked a challenge, “Never mind, that’s just your sparkle~”

Pausing, she took a moment to appreciate that all of him sparkled, finally taking the hint and lighting up with confidence and… sparkles. Real sparkles. Reaching forward, her fingers brushed towards them wondrously, before catching herself.

“Tell me when heaven wants you back because the sky seems to be missing a twinkle~”

Puffing up, he muttered, “Well, I am a star…”

“You know,” the young woman mused, staring openly, “You are quite pretty. Oh, no, not like that! So suspicious… or is it hopeful?” Tongue-clicking playfully, she leaned up to rest her elbow on the other woman’s shoulder, “I was just admiring your hair; how silky and smooth it is.”

Kagura expression flickered with confusion at the compliments and casual touching as she tried to duck beneath the arm without much success.

“Oh, and a bit of color would rosy up your complexion nicely,” Meredy gushed with a friendly pinch to the cheek. “Jen, what do you think?”

“I think there’s enough women in Blue Pegasus without your recruitment, Dee.”

Meredy blinked, thick lashes brushing against her cheeks rapidly, at the large hand thrust beneath her pert nose.

Curiosity made her tip her chin back, way back, to look the owner in the face. Totally serious, he wiggled his fingers under her nose to remind her of the task at hand.

“Sit, sit!” she gestured flamboyantly, tugging his muscular arm and earning a dark glare from the woman in the green dress. “Give me your hand. Oh, lovely! Ever, why didn’t you say your boyfriend has such gorgeous hands? I bet they can do magical things~”

Smirking at the nose tweaking of the other woman, she went to work on Elfman’s nails with precise and practiced strokes and snips.

Gray and Natsu were hovering slightly to the side, huddled together, suspiciously shuffling their feet and muttering. Meredy ignored them, humming as she finished with a pat to the hand.

“Isn’t that like… girly?” Gray finally offered, and Meredy arched a well-manicured brow, “There’s nothing girly about good hygiene. You’re confusing it with godly, which is understandable. There is something divine about a perfect manicure, right Elfman?”

“MANLY!”

“Right, so who’s next for a man-icure? On the house, so you boys can realize what it’s like to truly slay and feel fabulous while doing it.”

[homeinvasionent-blog]

Excerpt from “Vengeance is Mine” third installment of the Today’s a Blessing, Tomorrow’s a Miracle by John Doe (Home Invasion ENT)

CHAPTER 33

“True enough. “I drained my piragua, left the cup on the cart and fixed Cobrita with a penetrating look. “Be back in a minute. “

I headed towards the botanica and crossed paths with a scrawny black cat that regarded me with questioning purple eyes. We split a pole and the tall shadow I casted over the asphalt, traversed the shadow of another black cat. I cut my gaze and met the mesmerizing, greedy-green eyes of a fat black cat with a prominent scar on his back.

I rung the bell and was buzzed inside the botanica. The air was spiced with Jasmine and hazy with incense smoke. And stained with something ancient and darker than the abyss. The botanica was decorated in a majestic theme of velvet, silk and mahogany. Shelves veiled behind fine cloths of various fabrics from silk to satin sowed in intricate patterns and weaved into beautiful designs harbored ceramic statues of various saints; from Chango, the saint of war who protects warriors, to El Elgua, the saint of good fortune. Shrines adorned the walls, giving the room a royal appearance. Unlit balla candles, caged pigeons and chicken used for sacrifice and coconuts were everywhere else.  

A third black cat emerged from a counter and posed in my path, looking up at me with melodious maroon eyes. He posed in exquisite feline elegance.  For an instant I could of swore the cat grinned.

The huge man behind the counter glared at me, reeking hostility. He had a huge hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle without a label. It was undoubtedly Ron-Cana; a supped-up fermentation of over-proof rum as common to Caribbean Latinos as Moonshine to Southerners.

I contemplated the three cats, reflecting on Death always coming in threes. For that matter, everything of significance had to do with a trinity.

My energies were all over the place, being pulled and triggered by the unstable atmosphere. And I knew evil lived here. I could feel the trapped spirits warring inside the botanica. Could even hear satanic chants of the dark side of Santeria resonating off the walls.  

Pulling heavily on my cancerstick, I bounced straight towards the back, where the Santeria priestess, witch, voodoo doctor, or whatever you call those who communicate, trade and negotiate with malevolent spirits, held her dark rituals.

The gorilla shot from his seat with so much intensity I thought he might pounce on me. “You are not permitted to smoke in here! You already know that you can not go back there right now. The priestess is busy. “

I took a toke of smoke and slowly whipped the silenced PP9 from the small of my back, letting him see it.

His face registered maximum fear. Eyes searching for a shield. He reflexively released his bottle of over-proof rum and raised it in front of his face.

PP9 Walther spoke.

Piph!

The slug ripped through the gorilla’s palm and slammed in his nose. The pierced hand pressed against the hole in his snout. Blood flowing down his wrist, trickled to the floor.

Eyeing him like he was stupid, I took a drag, exhaled a smoke ring.

His mouth opened to scream. I saw his tonsils.

Piph!

The second Copperhead flew in his mouth, plowed through the back of his head, sending brain matter and blood flying inside a chicken cage. The birds went into a frenzy. The cats hissed. I felt abnormally cold, like spirits were passing through me or striking me. At once I eyed every blood-streaked  creature. I stood over the gorilla and pumped a final slug in his wig.  Scribbled my three to the face signature across his mug. Made his head jump then thump from the impact.

The stench of sulfur extinguished the other smells.  

I opened the backdoor, marched down the dimly lit hall with a cancerstick stuffed in my mouth, opened another door and entered a dark room. Lit candles circled satanic designs on the floor written in chicken blood. In a trance, a Santeria priestess chanted in Spanish, communicating with evil forces, oblivious that Death had infiltrated her demonic chamber, holding a cocked Walther with one in the chamber.

Sporting gunpowder cologne, I remained in the cut, candle flames flickering shadows across my face, casted fireballs in my eyes.

The Santeria priestess was young, but somehow old. A physically attractive Cubana with flowing long black hair shaved on the sides, a hourglass figure and a healthy glow to her skin tone. But her soul was gone. She was only a vessel. The convoy of evil spirits that used her body as a port, had torn out her soul and replaced it with hate. Although I’d long suspected Isabella of flirting with the dark side of Santeria, it was the first time I saw her unmasked. It never ceased to amaze me how so many physically irresistible women were spiritually ugly.

As Isabella chanted, I recalled the time she lured me to her home under the fictitious pretense that her husband Jean Jacques was bedridden. It was the one and only time that I destroyed her walls. That thirsty Thursday morning in her twelfth story condo, the sick and twisted Santeria priestess whom claimed to own my soul, literally ripped off my shorts and tried to suck the skin off my meat. I fucked her brutally and cruelly on her balcony overlooking the Biscayne Bay until she bled. She burned with lust begging for more. I ran up in her anal like I was going to war. She was on all four, shouting for more. I had a Tim-boot on her bare back, pounding her hardcore, spiteful because her sexual allure was so enticing that I was up in her raw. She tremored from a violent anal-gasm. Rectum erupting, coconut cream bubbling and foaming. I whipped out, wrapped a hand around her neck, the other coiled around her hair and stabbed her throat, trying to pierce the base of her spine or suffocate her . She gagged, sucking with fervor until I exploded between her tonsils. She choked on semen coughing and gasping. I hoped she asphyxiated. The crazed and deranged nympho maniac insisted that I stick it back in her bleeding pussy. Blood and vagina and sex fluids was splattered all over the balcony. When I refused, she become aggressive and obsessive. Eyes lit with madness. Her pussy was on fire. I saw it smoking. Demonically dick-possessed, she threatened to crush my soul if I didn’t stick it in or eat it. I slapt her face with stiff-dick till it split her lip, stuffed her in a pretzeled version of missionary, spat in her face and jammed it back in her anal, and pummeled her insides in a frenzy. The sick bitch loved degradation. Lust burned through her like wild fire and she threw her hips to meet my maddening thrusts. With a savage roar, I squeeted liquid-hate all over her ringed belly-button, pierced nipples and contorted fuck-face.  Dissatisfied with the degree of defilement and disrespect she begged me to further desecrate her body, thirsting for a urine shower. Whether she’d asked or not, heavy piss showers were in her forecast. I R. Kelly-ed the sick bitch, left her sinking in piss, and skipped out of her apartment, humming ‘Remix to Ignition’.

Isabella stalked me for the following months. Threatened to sell my soul to the devil, called my home phone adapting psychotic voices, making obscene sexual demands. Yet, whenever I saw her at functions with her husband Jean Jacques she was the model wife. Always acting like she couldn’t stand me, like she hadn’t lured me over to their home where she practically raped me under threat of selling my soul.

Isabella’s behavior signed her own death certificate.

I’d come to serve the Santeria priestess’ death warrant.

I shook out of that reverie, returned to the present and cleared my throat.

The maneuver jolted Isabella out of her sinister trance. She whirled like a tornado with so much fury I’m surprised I hadn’t been blown back.  She fixed her deranged black eyes on me. I was taken aback by the concentrated evil rooted on her face. By the fiery aura she emanated. Her ghastly-white complexion wasn’t earthly. It reminded me of the undead. The possessed. Demonic.  

When a level of sanity settled in her eyes, she spoke in a low but forceful macabre tone that was not her own.  “What are you doing here? “

I was looking at real evil and the encounter was going to be lethal. There’d be no sequel.

Visually struggling with the raging spirits that waged war in her body, Isabella gripped the beads around her neck with such intensity I thought she might crush them to dust. “Did you give my husband our cut? “ The voice was her’s; throaty and smoky. Her color returned. It was like the evil entities  wanted me to know what type of force I was fuckin with. “ Or did you come for something else?” She bit her lip, unbuttoning her ritual robe with a level of seduction I’d never encountered. It was unreal.  “Maybe you came to fuck me again. “ It was yet another voice. Husky, sneering and balmy. “I know you want to fuck me till I bleed. “

The fusion of sex appeal, lust and evil she radiated was thick enough to swim in, deep enough to drown in.

Temptation.

“I knew you would come back to me. I stuck Santa Ochota on you. “Back to the voice I’d associated with her natural speech, but understood that it was one of three voices that spoke through her.

A trinity.

“I’m abut to do a Babylonian belly dance for you Alberto. “ She performed a tantalizing strip tease as she came out of her robe. Moving her body in ways I hadn’t thought possible. She twerked in yellow Victoria Secrets boy-shorts, V-cut bra and black stiletto heels. Her body was tight, powerful, busty and ripe; strong rounded hips, narrow waist, sculpted stomach and mango tits. Her fat ass looked so round and soft as she twerked like an expert, making one cheek jerk. She pulled her boy-shorts to the side revealing the prettiest vaginal lips. She made her pussy pop. “Fuck this chocha Alberto. Get your cut of this love.”

“I came to bless you with your cut. “I pointed the pistol at her face. “The devil’s cut. “

Her eyes ignited into flames. “You dare come in my sanctuary and threaten me with a pistol? “The voice belonged to the macabre-sounding evil entity. “ I own your soul! “

I blew smoke in her face.

“I curse you and everything you- “

P-P-Phiph!

I put three slugs in her face and blew her back to hell. The Santeria priestess landed inside the circumference of the candles, over satanic symbols drawed in chicken blood.

“This time you sacrifice your own blood.” I pumped a slug in her heart. “No more chicken blood. “ I kneeled over her corpse and asked, “Now you tell me, who owns who’s soul?”

Suddenly, I was alerted to other malignant presences. The three black cats were seated around the satanic designs in a perfect triangle. Benevolent expressions etched their feline faces. Their stares were so mesmerizing, captivating. I was locked on them. Shackled in some type of hypnosis paralysis. I couldn’t move, the room seem to spin beneath my feet, and I was hit with a wave of vertigo. I knew that if I fell, I would never get up, that I’d keep falling straight to hell.

The cats were grinning. And I knew the evil spirits that had habited Isabella  fled to the shelter of the cats in her moment of extinction.  

I was down on one knee when the PP9 jerked in my hand.

Piph!

The fat cat exploded into a puff of fur and blood.

The scrawny cat’s face registered confusion. The elegant cat’s eyes communicated understanding.

I grunted as I regained my bearings and footing, unafraid of the spirits jumping into me once I annihilated the only other living vessels.

The spirit of Vendetta that dictated my every step had them under pressure. He allowed no room for any other entities in my body.

Perceptive, the possessed cats attempted to flee. I chased them down with rapid fire, smearing them all over the place.

The cats died slow agonizing deaths that spoke of torment.  When the last of the cats mournful wails subsided, the candles all died.

Engulfed in the darkness, I puffed my cancerstick, sucking on it like it was an oxygen tank, knowing this world held things a lot more detrimental to my health than cigarettes

Feeling nothing, I walked back to the botanica, stepped over the gorilla floating in a pool of spreading blood, contemplated a swig of his Ron-cana, yet, stepped in the office and snatched up the keys to the front door. It was the only way out. Security was designed in such a way that no one could come or leave without being buzzed in or out.

Everyone was dead though … buzzing the devil’s intercom.

As I walked through the botanica, pass the caged pigeons and chickens I realized that those three evil entities could of sought refuge and escaped to one of the birds. And as I studied those caged birds I knew that that was exactly what had occurred.

Flicking my Bic lighter, I smiled at the blood-speckled birds. In return they cooed and clucked.

I stepped back over the gorilla’s corpse, retrieved his bottle of over-proof rum off the counter and began dousing all the fine clothes veiling the statued saints. Flooding their shrines in Caribbean moonshine. I lit fire to various fine cloths. All along eyeing the frightened birds. I took a swig of the Buck, wiped my mouth and splashed the rest over the trapped birds.

Fire was rapidly spreading, growing. flames licked and whipped at me.

I steamed my cancerstick to the green line like it was the last mothafucka left, when the cherry was alive and sizzling, I  flicked the butt into the cage with the most blood-speckled birds.

I walked out of the flaming botanica to the sound of flapping wings on fire.