#i need to besedated

[6okuto]

taps my mic. The scene in weightlifting fairy when the girls are gushing over joonhyung in the bus and bokjoo messes with his hair to try to make him ugly But with akaashi.

he'd laugh and smile softly, play with your hands then lean against you... tease you and say he's sorry he's so pretty.. that he'll shave his head when you get home just to see your reaction . the girls across the bus stare as he laughs brightly when you gasp, but his eyes are (always) only on you

[bandzboy]

VERNON=)(/&%$#$%&/()(/&

[mogoce-nocoj]

kjer se mavrica konča 👀

oh my dear kjer se mavrica konča...

codename for this one is also "kris is suffering" and I've basically taken moments from Joker Out's and Bokris's history and made Kris suffer in very elaborate words, lol. I shared some snippets from it here and here back in January, and I really need to think how to actually get to a point because it's my favourite one, I think.

anyway! another snippet because I do really like it --

Kris doesn’t look for its meaning. Instead, he lets it wash over him, basking in the sun while ignoring the signs of the incoming rain. He thinks he finds his answer in the girl that he falls in love with and in a way he does because this love is as warm and soft as he’d always hoped it’d be. It’s all encompassing and intense and Kris’s heart is so full of it that he fears that it will spill over and take everyone with it, in particular the boy that is still there somehow when he closes his eyes and thinks of happiness. “Njene besede so barve oceana,” Bojan tells him when it’s just them in the studio, licking his lips and looking at his notebook. “Njene sanje so preglasne, prevelike za ta mali kraj.”  And Kris closes his eyes again and nods and offers his comments on the lyrics; sees a boy that wants to break out and go faster while he feels like it’s him staring at the ocean, calm but with a heart that doesn’t know what to do with the colours that are being reflected back at him; his feelings too big to keep them contained in a single chest.

[pathologising]

-_-

[iamkatehardy]

Haven (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

A/N: This was supposed to be a One Shot, to answer one of the requests I have, but given my current situation, I’ll publish what I already have as the Part I of a kind of drabble. 

Part II will come when I feel good enough to write again, and fulfill the request ❤ Hope you enjoy it because it might be my last work here! You guys are amazing. 

PS: Don’t let this fool you, this story is supposed to be fluff, I just can’t imagine Alfie being nice on the first time he meets someone 😂

Copycats, if you can’t read without stealing, then don’t read, please!

Haven - Part I

With the end of the First World War, the prosperity and peace had returned; but not to everyone. The Roaring Twenties were a time of contrasts, but a burning rage to live represented a common factor between the blessed, who just wanted to carelessly live their lives to the fullest, and the damned, who desperately wanted to forget the atrocities they once had witnessed. Many men were lost on the battlefields of Flanders; those who didn’t lose their lives, clearly lost some parts of their damaged souls; and you had a hard time until you learnt how to deal with them.

Gaining independence, something you longed for, came with a price; the price was being bold enough to move to another town, finding a rather unusual job, and adjust to all the new circumstances that surrounded you. The pace of life, the weather, the people, everything was completely different from what you once were used to.

You worked at The Rampant Barbarian, one of the most famous and crowded pubs in Camden Town. There was never a dull moment under The Barbarian’s roof: men rose their glasses, while the room echoed with their oaths and drunken shouts; they guffawed, stamped their feet, and banged the tables with their fists. Dealing  with drunken men was no different from dealing with children, they were needy and demanding at the same time, but somehow you handled all of it shockingly well; not even the most heartless henchman in Camden Town could resist your ability to smile easily, no matter how hard the day had been for you. Working there wasn’t only peaches and cream, though; of course that when everybody was fueled by too much booze, mixed with too much testosterone flying around, a fight seemed imminent. From time to time it was unavoidable; they threw some punches, or used chairs and bottles as weapons to crack heads, starting a real clusterfuck. The fistfights were often interrupted by the sound of you banging pots and pans, in order to draw their attention and offer a round of snacks on the house, the only reason why they would stop fighting.

It was hard to keep count of all the cheap spirits you poured, the comfort food you served, the wounds you cleaned, how many people you took care of, how many confessions you heard, or how many advice you gave; but you did it heartily every single time. You treated costumers and the owner just like family, even though you had just arrived.

David, your boss, was a recalcitrant conservative Jew, like most of the men that hanged around the pub, but you knew that deep down he had a good heart, and cared for you. Although he gave you an earful about the dumbest things, he did it for your own sake; most of the customer base was a bad lot of fellows.

The front door swung open, with its distinctive squeak; as soon as the drunkards laid their eyes on the individual that was approaching, their chatter instantly stopped. The man was greeted with a certain degree of awe; he had an intense look, and his chest stuck out with pride, mixed with authoritativeness and dominance. This was the first time you saw him, but you could tell he was pretty intimidating; his eyes so cold, deep, piercing, glimmering a greyish blue so deep they appeared black in the dim light. No wonder why everybody watched him in silence.  His cane clacking against the hard floor, like a plaintive melody, was the only thing to be heard.

The pub was always packed on Saturdays night, that day was no exception. Alfie wasn’t exactly the social type, so he wasn’t willing to share the table with his fellow gangsters. What would someone like Alfie do? The answer was pretty simple for him: kick out whoever was at his usual table, and have it. Being fairly new in town, you weren’t used to Alfie’s reign, so when he started acting like a thug you instinctively called him out, thinking you were preventing one of the usual riots.

“Hey!” – You said indignantly. Alfie turned around, facing you; he blinked quickly a couple times, giving you a dismissive look and continued.  He looked dangerous, but his attitude enraged you, so you put down the tray you were carrying, and started walking furiously towards him.

“Girl, you must have a death wish! “ – David grabbed your arm, stopping you before you reached Alfie, and whispering. -  “You’re new in town , but here’s a valuable lesson: almighty  Alfie Solomons is not be messed with. He’s nasty, and dangerous, the kind of guy you’d like to have around when shit is tough, but at the same time he’s the fucking madman you wouldn’t want to have as enemy.”

“Listen, I don’t know who this Alfie fucking Solomons is….” –Your stiff finger was pointed at David, almost glued to his face. All of a sudden, the color drained out of his face and he swallowed hard; it couldn’t be the mere fact that you retorted.

A shape behind you moved swiftly and silently; all you heard a deep sigh as it walked over to you stayed. You knew you were in trouble when you saw another dark shadow on the floor, alongside yours and David’s. Alfie let out a deep low grunt before his arms folded and his lips pressed. After a short awkward period of silence, he ran his fingers through your hair, tucking a strand gently behind your ear.

“Oh, you do know him… I am Alfie fucking Solomons, sweetie.” – His tone was somehow husky, and breathy; you couldn’t figure out if he was introducing himself, or just trying to intimidate you, but the way the whisper of his breath brushed your hot skin made you shiver. Alfie interpreted your silence as compliance.

“Slicha (I’m sorry) , Alfie…” – David stuttered. His reverence and fear for the man were noticeable.

Alfie raised his hand for silence, scrunching his face.

“Ze beseder. (It’s nothing.) “ – After he gave you a dirty look, his dark eyes darted to David again. “I’m having a meeting tomorrow night, an important one, aye? It would be risky to do it on the bakery,so… “ – He straightened up the towel that hung from David’s shoulder. – “I need you to close the bar for me, a’ight? “ – His eyes moved from the white cloth to David’s eyes. – “I’m counting on your good will, and hospitality, a’ight, my friend? ”

“Sundays are pretty busy, wouldn’t the snug be enough for your meeting?” – You tried to argue. Usually clients asked for the snug in order to fulfil their needs in sinful ways, so you wonder what kind of meeting he would have, to want the whole bar all to himself.

“Yeah, I’m taking the snug, pet, that’s for sure…But in my branch of business, we like full privacy and caution. “ – A vein popped up his neck – “David?“

“Of course, the bar is yours.” – His face was clouded with fear, and he nodded quickly.

“Good, good…” – Alfie turned around and grabbed his cane from the table he was before. – “And David?”

“Yes, Alfie.”

“ People who question or wonder a lot are no good for business…” – He drew his lower lip between his teeth, giving you one final dismissive look before he walked out the door and disappeared into the night.

[itsmagnetsbabey]

while you were letting your guard down

@cardshcrp, x

"hey!" the man was running after a young boy through the crowded new york streets near williamsburg, which was not a neighborhood remy frequently found himself in, but it was one of the few places you could get quality sturgeon without paying an arm and fuckin' leg. so he's stood under a streetlight doing his thing when a bulky dark-featured guy races by him, long legs propelling him forward quickly and easily. he's got his right hand-wrapped in a thick black brace-trapped against his chest to stabilize it, but the awkward gait doesn't detract from his endurance. the kid is about to jump over a fence when the guy throws his left arm out, catching him in mid air and causing the little sprout-he's like twelve or something-to trip over his own feet, landing safely in the clutches of fence-wiring. "atah rotze ganav meitanu?!" he's rattling off on another language, which just makes it sound all the more pissed. "uhhh, i don't know what you're-look-i'll give it back! kol beseder! kol beseder!" his eyes are wide and terrified, hands raised over his head, presumably at the mutant who had just thrown him head first into a fence. (well, slightly dramatic, he was mostly stunned, not injured.) he's dirty and his clothes are ratty; he's not from around here-he's probably not from anywhere. the adult picks him up by the scruff of the neck and dusts him off. "what do you-need food? you know it's a synagogue, right? you can just ask." it's dry. he rifles through the kid's jacket and plucks out an envelope, rolling his eyes tucking it safely into his jeans. then, rolling his eyes, he fetches a ten out of his pocket and jams it into the kid's hand. "now get the fuck out before i call the police." the kid is on his feet and stumbling past remy before anyone has any time to object.