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atlabeth · 3 years

Note

Well first off I just want to say congrats on your 200 followers!!!!! You deserve it. In your prompt list I want to do #32. Can you do a Sokka x fem reader where she is Toph’s older sister and they start dating. It can be apart of the ATLA timeline or modern it’s up to you 😊

come back safe - sokka x fem!beifong reader

summary: you and sokka have to part ways in ba sing se, but he’s not letting you go without saying his piece.

a/n: im just gonna assume that you meant 32 from the fluff list, if you meant angst or general then im sorry!! but thank you sm for requesting :-) and a personal thank you for always sending in asks, your support for transferred means the world!!!

also i did this surprisingly fast?? me getting a request done in a reasonable amount of time?? who am i ???

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): some sad sokka moments and some very intense dramatic irony lmao, but mostly fluff

32. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on doing that.”

-----------------------

Parting from your friends was never easy. Ever since you had run away from home with your sister, Team Avatar had become a surrogate family, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Toph was a whirlwind in her own way, but Aang, Katara, and Sokka all got her in ways that your parents never had, not to mention how you were finally able to be yourself away from the world of Earth Kingdom nobility. You couldn’t offer Aang any of the earthbending wisdom you sister had in spades, but your skill with blades made you a valuable asset nonetheless.

That connection made it so much harder to separate.

After leaving Gaoling, you had never been apart from the group for longer than a couple of days. But visiting your mother would take at least a week, not to mention everyone else was going off in their own directions — Aang to visit a guru to help control the Avatar State, Sokka to see his dad, Katara staying in the city to aid the Earth King. You would all be saying goodbye for an unprecedented amount of time.

To put it in simple terms? You were freaking out.

You and Toph had gone against direct orders from your parents to join the Avatar, and no sooner had you earned the support of the Earth King when you found out about the letter from your mother. It was.. strange, to say the least.

As Beifongs, you were held to impossible standards, and what the two of you did broke every single one of them. You were skeptical when you first read the letter to Toph, but she was so excited at the possibility of your parents finally coming to accept the two of you that you couldn’t say no.

After taking care of last minute affairs, you ended up back in your room to begin packing. You and your sister would be making the journey on foot, so you wanted to be prepared for anything that could happen — you might’ve just been going through the Upper Ring, but you had come to not discount anything in Ba Sing Se.

You finished folding the last of Toph’s clothes and closed the bag, and at that moment you heard a knock on the door. “It’s open!” you called as you moved onto your own pack. You glanced up to see your visitor, and the corner of your lips quirked up when you saw it was Sokka.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey yourself,” he said as he shut the door behind him. “Listen, do you have a moment to talk? Before you leave, I mean. I know you’re on a tight schedule and all.”

“I always have a moment for you.” You set another article of clothing in your bag and clapped your hands together softly as you turned to face him. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about where you’re going. You know, you and Toph going to see your mom.”

“Oh, yeah. Exciting, isn’t it? It’ll be an interesting meeting.” You chuckled, a notion lacking in mirth. “Wonder what she’s going to say after we gave up our entire lives to help the Avatar without their permission.”

“Just.. whatever goes on, be safe, okay? If you get hurt out there, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

The sincerity in his voice shocked you a bit, but you gave him a light punch on the shoulder, choosing to shoot back in your usual joking manner. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on doing that.”

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

You smiled and shrugged as you folded another tunic and placed it into your bag. “Sokka, we’re just going to the edge of the upper ring. You have nothing to worry about!”

He sighed and shook his head. “Look. I don’t have the best track record with people that I’m close to. I couldn’t save my mom, and I couldn’t protect our tribe, and I couldn’t save Yue. It’s like the moment I start to care about anyone, something bad happens to them, and I can’t do anything to stop it. And now you’re going off to the city to see your mom, and even though it’s so close, I just can’t shake this feeling, and I— I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if something happens to you too.”

Your brows creased as the full weight of his words hit you. “Sokka.. are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He stepped closer and took your hands in his, those ocean eyes holding a softness you had never seen before. “I care about you, Y/N, so much that it hurts. So I know it sounds ridiculous, but I need you to promise me that you’ll come home safe.”

There was only a moment’s hesitation before you tugged on his hands to bring him even closer, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips met his.

“I care about you too,” you responded quietly, a small smile gracing your features. “And I promise I’ll be safe. Just for you.”

“Good.” He smiled as well and gave you another soft kiss, one that quickly became more heated as you got lost in each other. You could feel the pure emotion, the sadness, that he poured into it, and that feeling made you want to give this boy everything in the world. You had almost tuned out the world completely until the door was pushed open and Aang’s voice rang through the air.

“Sokka, are you almost ready? I saw you come in h— oh, spirits, I’m so sorry!”

You and Sokka immediately separated, jumping apart from each other so quickly you nearly tripped over your own feet. You quickly gathered yourself and leaned against the table your bags were set on, giving Aang an easy-going smile in an attempt to cover up your breathlessness.

“Aang!” Your voice was unnaturally high as you used your hands to talk. “He was just… checkin’ in on me. Making sure that I was ready. Just.. nothing going on here. Just.. two friends.. bein’ friends. And.. gettin’ ready. As friends.”

You could hear Sokka snort behind you as he tried to keep his composure as well — Aang, meanwhile, was as red as a fire ferret as he began to back away.

“You know, I can just come back later! Or you can come to me, Sokka. Whenever you’re ready. I won’t tell anyone, I promise!” He gave you guys one last slightly panicked smile then darted off, causing the two of you to dissolve into laughter.

You glanced at Sokka with a shy smile as you felt your cheeks burning up, and that just made him laugh even harder. “Think he’ll keep that promise?”

You sighed happily and shrugged. “You know what? I don’t even care. And I think I’ll try extra hard to stay alive if it means there’s more kisses like that in the future.”

Sokka gave you a heart-melting smile and walked over to the door. “Just come home safe, and you’ll get all the kisses you want.”

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

#atlabeth 200 #avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #atla fic #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar x reader #sokka #sokka avatar #sokka atla #sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #reader insert #sadie writes #tiffanyy-21

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 4 years

Text

Skin | n.yt

synopsis: about a girl who is self conscious of her skin color. she thought yuta would leave her for a girl who has paler skin and a curvier body but yuta didn’t know this. he thought you were crazy; that was up until now.

pairing: boyfriend!yuta x poc!femalereader

genre: piles of angst, some fluff to make it up

warning: this is a very touchy subject, read other works if its too much.

inspiration: Malcolm & Marie (you guys really should watch it. (it’s on Netflix.) the movie is still on my mind despite watching it hours ago)

word count: 2.2k

“your fucking delusional that’s what you are”

“I’m delusional? how yuta, how am I being delusional please inform me” you pace back and forth while he sat on the bed with his head in his hands.

“she was an interviewer I don’t even know her. it was just two strangers exchanging a hug and that was all that was it.”

“wrong it wasn’t just a hug. did you see the way she looked at you, stroked your hands and chest while you both talked, and the way she hugged you? god, the way she hugged you..” you say almost as if you were talking to yourself. you shake your head thinking about it for the millionth time that night. “she was rubbing all her lady parts on you and guess what you did? just take a fucking guess” you stop in your tracks and look at him.

“I did nothing”

“e-fucking-xcatly. you did nothing, you just stood there and smiled at her. do you have any clue what that feels like to watch? it feels like a knife is piercing my heart,” you walk over to him and bend down to his level. “but you wouldn’t know what that feels like huh?” you say slowly.

“I know what it feels like” he looks into your eyes. his eyes were filled with hurt and anger. you’d done this far too many times, yelling at him for petty things but he never knew the root of your madness.

“oh do you really?” you scoff and look away.

“yes I do, you think I don’t get jealous when other guys are around you?” you chuckle at his words and stand up again, walking away from him.

“you sure don’t act like it bothers you” you reply.

“that’s because I don’t make a huge deal out of it because at the end of the day I’m sleeping in the same bed as you and they aren't. that’s how I get over my jealousy, maybe you should use that advice to your advantage.” he gets up and walks into the connected bathroom; taking off his dress clothes and jewelry.

“it doesn’t work like that for me” you slip off your dress, letting it fall to the floor only leaving you in stockings.

“and why doesn’t it?” you hear the shower water running. you pause for a second trying your best not to cry.

“because… it’s much deeper than that. what I’m feeling is not just jealousy yuta” that’s all you say before you hear him step in the shower. you sigh and put your hands on your face before taking off your stockings. you walk over to the walk-in closet and pick out a loose shirt and some underwear, that were of course yours.

you put it on and walk into the living room. you pick up your phone and put on some music. you felt the music instantly calm your spirit.

you danced around the room letting yourself drift into the mood. you closed your eyes memorizing your steps until a choreography formed. you repeated the steps, they were light and soft. it could’ve been compared to a ballroom dance, only you were dancing alone but you didn’t mind that. you let your mind dream for once as if you were in another land. it was peaceful and calming, you let your mind drift to a whole other universe. you wish it were real, that you were there in this moment, happy, content, satisfied, all those you wished at this moment.

you danced gracefully to the music so lost in the zone to even realize that a pair of eyes were watching you from afar. he watched your every move and the way your feet bounced of the ground delicately, it was refreshing for the both of you. music was the only thing filling your ears, no more yelling, or shouting. just peacefulness.

you ended in a final stance as the song ended. you stayed there for a little bit, too lost in your world. everyone was standing up and clapping for you. you felt happy for once, this was all you wanted, that was it.

arms wrapped around your waist and kisses were planted on the soft skin of your neck.

“that was beautiful princess” he trails kisses down to your shoulder. you opened your eyes slowly, trying to come back to reality.

“mhm” you say and lean against his chest.

“are you okay now?” he asks softly.

“yes” you smile softly and kiss his cheek.

“good” he grins and picks you up over his shoulder. your scream and protests get mixed in with his laughs. he smacks your butt and drops you on the couch. he pecks your face, making you giggle and push him away.

“don’t try to fight it” he pecks your neck and jaw. “I love you,” he says, the words sinking into your skin and running through your veins. they filled you with life but you weren’t gonna let them stay there.

“mhm,” you hum biting your lip. you hear his phone ring from in the other room.

“hold on princess I'll be right back, lets keep it like this please, happy thoughts only” he kisses your temple sweetly before speed walking to his phone.

you sighed and rolled your eyes. ‘fuck him’ you thought. it was so much deeper than jealousy, so so much deeper. a tear ran down your cheek swiftly but you didn’t wipe it, wanting to let yourself suffer.

you hear footsteps treading back to the living room.

“can I ask you something? and can you please answer truthfully even if it might hurt me?”

“yeah..” he answers slowly stopping in his tracks.

“do you think she’s prettier than me?”

silence.

that was all you heard after you asked the question. tears fell down your face, your mouth trembling as you gripped the couch.

“why would you ever ask something like that,” he pauses and shakes his head. “I thought everything was okay now? what happened?” a million thoughts were running through his head at this moment, you had his mind twisted right now.

“I fucking lied, that’s what happened. you thought everything was gonna be okay after a few wasted kisses and worthless words? well think again yuta”

“I’m so confused, why would you lie and say everything was okay, literally what was the point? you intentionally try to be exhausting on purpose; this is exactly why I think you're mental now because you do shit like this-”

“shut the fuck up!” you shout you couldn’t take any more of his words and chucked a glass cup sitting next to you at the wall. a loud sound was heard as the glass collided with the wall, it fell to the ground and broke into tiny pieces.

“what the fuck is your problem?” his voice booms throughout the whole house and he storms over to you. you turn around and look at him with tears dampening your face.

“what’s my problem? you really wanna fucking know?” your voice gets a little shaky.

“yes I do” his face expresses the way he’s feeling. he was past angry, he was infuriated at this point.

“my problem is that- I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I'm insecure. I’m really fucking insecure yuta and you wanna know why?”

“why?” he says in a hushed tone as his face starts to relax, his eyes softening up a little bit.

“because I’m black that’s why. it’s not that I hate myself because I don’t… it’s because I think you're embarrassed to be with me-“

“y/n-“ he says softly cutting you off.

“I’m not done,” you sniffle. you’d been waiting to get this off your chest for a while, so you were gonna get it all off your chest. “I think you think you would be happier with someone who has lighter skin, and a curvier body. I mean look at me yuta. I’m flat, my boobs, my ass- I mean just fucking look.” you turn to the side and he looks down at your body with hurt in his eyes before looking up at your face.

“I even considered getting plastic surgery because of you. I never had this problem before I met you, I was confident in my body and then the second you popped up it all fell apart. I’m so insecure now and that’s why I’m so jealous because I feel like you’ll leave me for them. After all, they’re pretty, curvy, and Asian; that maybe you’ll connect with them because they’re Asian or because she's Japanese and can understand you when you speak in your native language.” you shake your head. “they’re everything I’m not yuta” you say in a hushed voice as tears soak your face. it was like you were standing outside in heavy pouring rain, that’s how much you were crying.

“babygirl why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?” yuta says softly unlike his tone just a few minutes. his eyebrows were relaxed, his jaw softened and most of all his eyes had softened. they were now filled with worry.

“I’m s-sorry” you look down and start to cave in on yourself, sinking to the floor and hugging your knees. he sighs and looks down at you. he sits down on the floor and pulls you into his arms.

“that’s not how I think or have thought ever. I wouldn’t have dated you if I didn’t think you were beautiful inside and out. I always got angry because I couldn’t possibly understand why you’d get jealous over stupid things like that but I get it now.” he caresses your back as you sob into his shoulder.

“y/n you’re the brightest shining star in my galaxy so when you scream at me for stupid shit like hugging other girls or smiling at them. I look at you like your mental because, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m deeply in love with you, I want to breathe you, kiss you, love you only, not them. I am beyond obsessed with you.” he pauses and sighs.

“but I guess I didn’t do a great enough job of showing you how much I love you. Im sorry for not catching on earlier baby, you're beautiful y/n, so fucking beautiful. I love your skin color, your nationality, your hot ass body, your short curly hair, the language you speak, the way you think to the way you walk, every little fucking thing that makes you who you are, drives me insane y/n and I love all of it. I love all of you and who you are from the bottom of my heart” he strokes your cheek and kisses your head.

“and no I don’t want the Japanese girls because if I did then I wouldn’t be here with you in my arms. I would be with them but at this moment right now Im not because I don’t want them, I want you and only you. y/n don’t worry yourself over a silly little hug that lasts for 1 second and a smile that means nothing to me because when I hug you that hug lasts 10-20 seconds and when we smile at each other it makes my heart pound and my stomach fill with butterflies because i’m so in love with you and that’s the wholehearted truth.”

the atmosphere was filled with your light sniffles until it was filled with complete silence. both of you listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeats. it was so peaceful.

“I have a question” yuta whispers so low that you almost don’t hear him.

“yeah,” you said in the same whisper.

“is that what all of our arguments have been about this whole time?”

“…yes” you close your eyes and grip his shirt.

“did you not think I loved you?” he keeps the same soft tone.

“in all honesty, I’m not sure. I thought you were embarrassed to be with someone who wasn’t as pretty as the other, lighter-toned, and Asian girls”

“no that’s not true and you are pretty, scratch that, you are fucking stunning. you’re the hottest girl I have ever been with in my life and I mean that 200% percent,” he said in a normal voice tone. you laughed at the statement and he did too. the atmosphere was now a lighthearted one.

“get out of here” you laugh and sit up.

“what it’s true, don’t be mad because you can’t have skills like me,” he says playfully.

“oh really?” you laugh loudly.

“mhm now, can you give me a fashion show, please? I want to see all the new dresses you bought” he pulls you in for a quick peck.

“but I wanna cuddle” you pout.

“hmm okay but I want that fashion show tomorrow y/n” he holds your hands and caresses them.

“okay okay, I’ll do it tomorrow. now can we please cuddle? I’m tired”

“your wish is my command princess” he stands up and picks you up bridal style. you squeal and hold on to him.

“we’ll get the glass up later,” he says. there was still glass shattered on the ground from when you threw it at the wall earlier. he walked into your shared room and laid you down on the bed gently before crawling to the spot beside you, and finally, he pulled you into his arms.

finally, for a change, you were happy and content. yuta kissed your cheek and forehead occasionally; uttering sweet nothings into your ear as he drew circles on your skin. your smiles and laughs fill the room as they mix

everything was perfect now.

#nakamoto yuta #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #yuta imagines #yuta x reader #yuta angst #yuta fluff #yuta fanfic #yuta #nct x reader #yuta x y/n

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catboy-lover-archive · 4 years

Text

Obey Me Romanian MC

idea inspired by @/harunayuuka2060 (too shy to tag them)

Nu ştiu ce inspirație supraomenească m-a lovit dar am început asta la 2 dimineața și am terminat-o la 6.30

Im sleep deprived bc I stayed up all night doing this, enjoy gagicile mele

[added translations]

(under the cut bc this bitch is long af)

Lucifer: Are you not enjoying your meal?

MC: This food isn't even good. Next time I'm bringing my bunica to make you guys sarmale best thing you ever tried 👩‍🍳👌😘 mwah

MC: I'm not gonna go out with Satan, Beel, Asmo or Belphie.

Asmo: Awww

Beel: :(

Belphie: What?!

Satan: Why?

MC: Why date a guy who's favorite color is not in romanian flag? 🤔🇷🇴

Asmo: But I thought you could-

MC: For the last time IM NOT A VAMPIRE I CAN'T HYPNOTIZE PEOPLE OR MAKE THEM FALL IN LOVE WITH ME

Levi: Ohhh!!!! So are you like familiar with Castlevania-

MC: We don't talk about that *cries in disappointed*

Solomon: What is this weird potion.

MC: *puts bottle of țuică (plum brandy) on the table*

MC: This is not a potion, but a solution to all of your problems gagica 💖

MC: *talking to Lucifer* Oh iubire (love), stop crying over Diavolo again. Why cry over guy who would wear vagabond everyday in my country?

MC: Tsch tsch tsch

Lucifer: What the fuck is Vagabond

MC: Only the worst of streetwear existent. Only f-boys use it

Lucifer: Fair enough

Beel: Why do you want to try out for the sports team?

MC: Because Steaua, my country's team, disappointed me 😔

MC: Mammon! Asmo! Let me show you guys a thing called ✨manele✨

(after the Belphie incident)

MC: Does anybody have a belt.... a belt so I can...no reason...papuci de casă (slippers) works too

MC: Hey Belphie! Did you enjoy your punishment? 😜

Belphie: My butt still hurts...

MC: Next time it's the lingură de lemn ♡ (wooden spoon)

*MC dancing to Braşoveanca*

Mammon: W-what's that???

Satan: Some sort of ritual I suppose

Asmo: *joining in* It's fun!

MC: Doi✌paşi🦵înainte➡️şi😱doi😩înapoi⬅️ (two steps forward two steps back)

MC: Who has summoned me?

Satan: Belphie isn't feeling well and the medicine didn't really do it's job.

MC: Everyone watch closely because I'm going to teach you guys a sacred ritual called ✨Frecție cu Oțet✨

Satan: You're just pouring vinegar on his wrist.

MC: Now here comes the fun part. *maggages his wrists*

Belphie: Someone please kill me this is unbearable

MC: Am I allowed to say Tatăl Nostru (Lord's prayer) or is that too....uhhh weird since yall are demons and stuff-

Barbatos: MC...

MC: I'm sorry but crossing myself after I finish a meal is implemented in my brain. It's in the default settings.

Barbatos: What happens if you don't cross yourself?

MC: Lingura de lemn (wooden spoon) *shivers*

Diavolo: Do you like my castle?

MC: Baby, Peleş puts you to shame.

MC: Also, too much current (swift). Close the damn windows

Lucifer, giving up on life: Oh not again...

MC: DA PĂ CIMPOI DA PĂ CIMPOI JOACĂ FETELE LA NOI 👉👈😳

MC: Real music here 😌

MC: There, there gacica (girlfriend). Don't cry. *pats him on the back*

Lucifer: Do you got any more țuică...

MC: That's the spirit!

MC: I know I technically didn't die, but can we please have a funeral??? There is this really tasty cake just for this special occasion called colivă. Beel is okay with it so- hey don't ignore me! wait guys this is important- wAIT!

Satan: I hate Lucifer because he is my father.

Belphie: I hate Lucifer because he sucks in general.

MC: I hate Lucifer because Favorite color is red which is COMMUNISM COLOUR 😡‼

Solomon: See?? MC likes my cooking!

MC: Piftie...Caltaboş...

MC: Solomon, you would make a very good romanian housewife. Say, have you ever considered getting a 701st wife...?

Beel: *munching happily on the food MC makes*

Lucifer: *getting a fucking break*

MC: *making grătar(barbeque) cu mici*

MC: Everybody loves 1 Mai!

MC: Beelphiiieee!!!! I have a spell for you 😊

Belphie: Please not the lingură de lemn-

MC: *boop on the nose* ✨du-te dracu✨ (go to hell)

Lucifer: How did you make everyone behave?

MC: *looking at the papuc de casă in hand*

MC: You either die a hero...or live enough to become the villain...

Lucifer: Interesting, can you teach me?

MC: The secret is to use your wrist-

MC, whispering: Psst! Mammon! How's the sarmale trading going?

Mammon: Its okay, but why can't you just give me the recipe?

MC: E din moşi strămoşi (it's from older generations) I can't give it to you

MC: Hey pisi, want a ride in my Dacia?

Simeon: ...what? :)

MC: Come on gagica(girlfriend)! We are going to visit my family they will love you!

MC: You can also bring Luke. Just uhhh don't let him drink from the "juicebox" ok? It's not- It's not juice in there

MC: But you can drink. I won't tell anyone.

Diavolo: MC you can't leave yet. Not even for a quick visit back home.

MC: Auzi, da du-te-n p- (well why don't you fuck yourself on my dic-)

MC: *sigh* Sometimes I wish Satan was wearing Vagabond instead of...whatever that is

Asmo: Ouch, but yeah I guess we are that desperate.

Satan: I'm never tutoring any of you again.

MC and Luke, just vibing honestly: ⬇️Intră-n👇apa🌊mării🐚şi🐋nu🐟te🙄teme😱ai😳să-nveți🤯să-noți🐠printre🤔sirene🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

(go in the sea's water and don't you be afraid you'll learn to swim among mermaids)

MC: No Asmo, I have a date to the ball he's right here *points at țuică bottle*

Belphie: *misbehaving*

MC: Vai, vai, vai. Sărumâna Belphie 😃 ( well, well, well good day Belphie)

MC: *grabs the papuc (slipper)*

MC: NO LUCIFER IT CAN NOT BE AN AN NOU FERICIT (happy new year) IF WE DO NOT DANCE THE HORĂ

MC and Luke, vibing yet again: POVEȘTI DIN FOLCLORUL MAGHIAR!!! (maghiar folklore stories!)

MC: Where is my țuică? :)

Everyone: *quiet*

MC: I won't get mad :)

MC:

MC: Foaie verse de trifoi~ *papuc reappears* Dați băi țuica înapoi (green leaf of clover, give the țuică back you fucker)

Everybody: *runs*

MC: Mândruțelor (girls), come back until I'll put this to good use

Levi: *exists*

MC: *in love with him bc his fav color is in the Romanian flag and not in the commie flag*

MC: Te las să te lingi cu mime în parcare la lidl (I'll let you french kiss me in the Lidl market parking lot)

MC: Lucifer you don't understand!

MC: Sandu Ciorbă cured my depression!

MC: Muie cretinii pământului (fuck y'all stupid asses) my țuică is back and I'm not sharing anymore

Asmo: We're doing hot girl shit tonight

MC: Ne curvim rău (we're hoeing)

MC: futu-ți cristelnița mătii (fuck your mother's font) Simeon you're the one that drank all my țuică

MC: I'll let it slide this once, if u take me for shaorma(shawarma) in Piața Victoriei (Victoria's market)

Solomon: Whoops, I accidentally messed up the sarmale recipe

MC: Aşadar războiu alesu l-ai (So you have chosen war)

Mammon: MC, how do you say "I hate you" in romanian?

MC: Dar eu sunt mândru că sunt twink. (I'm proud to be a twink)

Mammon, clueless: ok thanks

MC, to Belphie: I had such a rough day, please fute-mi una (fuck me over) and not the way I like

Mammon: What would be a quick way to make money?

MC: Gagica(girlfriend), listen. Culegător de sparanghel (asparagus picker) in Spain is your go-to.

Asmo: *blasting manele vechi (old manele).2006*

Asmo: Please love me!

MC: *already in wedding attire*

MC: Beel! Here, try this! Yeah yeah its completely fine!

MC: ...what do you mean it looks like Solomon's cooking?

MC: THIS IS PIFTIE AND YOU WILL LEARN TO APPRECIATE IT

MC: *dragging them all by the hand to therapy*

MC: Păi aşa-i hora pe la noi măi bade- (This is hora to us well my mans)

MC, talking to Lucifer: Măi omu lu dumnezeu îți fut una de nu te vezi (listen God's man I'll fuck you over that you'll not see again) if u lay a finger on my țuică again

MC: I don't care that you have daddy issues, this is MINE now thank you very much.

MC: Doamne cu ce ți-am greşit? (God, what have I done to you?)

MC: tanti Lilith, ia-mă cu tine gagicuțo milf ce ești (Miss Lilith, take me with you you milf girlfriend)

MC: Chiar și culesul de căpșuni din Spania era mai ok dacât (even strawberry picking in Spain is better than) Therapist Simulator hell edition

Diavolo: *exists*

MC: Vrei să-ți fiu a ta mireasă? (Do you want me to be your wife?)

Simeon: *exists*

MC: Vrei să-ți fiu Ileană Cosânzeană? ( Want me to be your fairy wife?)

Belphie: Every time I doze off they say this weird phrase...

MC: Dormeo(mattress company) ! Noapte bună! (good night!)

MC: What do you mean im not allowed to have a cross around my neck?

MC: My dead grandmother would kill me it's Sfântu Andrei for fucks sake

MC: The law is law we gotta put garlic and salt everywhere around the house

MC: This is what you get from taking my țuică away AGAIN

MC: I mean, at least i dont have to take the bacalaureat and face the woman-hating-Ion-Creangă-fucking-twink-looking-nightmare-inducing Eminescu so

MC: *drinks a Mona Spirt (rubbing alcohol) bottle in one go*

MC: that works wonders for me

#IM SLEEPY SO IM GOING TO SLEEP AT 7AM BYYYE #♡♡♡#romanian mc #romanian mc obey me #obey me #obey me swd #Diavolo e dilf nu ați auzit de la mine #romanian #romania

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

Painting (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Painting Rating: PG Length: 2200 Warnings: Fluff (mild discussions of death) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here.Set in 1999. Did ya’ll miss me? Summary: Reader and Javier paint Josie’s room.

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @beccaplaying @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @awesomefandomsunited @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @ah-callie @swhiskeys @exrebelshocktrooper @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @cinewhore @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou @yespolkadotkitty@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie @jaime1110 @katlikeme

“The new dresser should go over here,” Javier states, hands on his hips as he looked around the empty bedroom.

You stepped in close to Javier, wrapping your arms around his waist as you tilted your chin and looked up at him, “Hi.”

“Hi, baby.” Javier said with a warm grin, curling his hand around your hip. “I thought we were painting.”

“We are.” You gave his ass a playful squeeze before artfully pinching the pocket knife out for his back pocket. “I just needed this.” You flicked it open with your thumb and brandished it in front of him.

You stepped away from him, kneeling down by the gallon of paint, using the blade to pop open the can.

Javier chuckled and crouched down beside you, grabbing the plastic tray liner and fitting it into the metal paint tray. “Let’s hope JoJo likes this color choice this time.”

“Not wanting to paint for her a third time?” You teased lightly as you used the wooden stick to stir the paint, “It’s a little brighter than I expected.” You pursed your lips as you watched the paint drip back into the can off the stirrer.

Javier picked up the lid, flipping it over to compare the paint to the dried sample on the top. “I think it’ll look different once it goes up on the wall.”

“It’s a good color.” You were a little sad to see the dusty yellow walls go away. Javier had painted Josie’s room while you were pregnant with Sofía, while he was working on her nursery.

Sofia’s room was a cool sage green, not dissimilar from the colors that you’d used in Josie’s first nursery in Colombia. You preferred neutral colors that went with everything. But now that Josie was having sleepovers with school friends and not just the Murphy girls — she wanted something a little more exciting.

You were just glad you’d been able to talk her out of a Barney-purple into a nice shade of lavender. Josie had been a clever girl. She waited until she went to Home Depot alone with her father to talk him into repainting her bedroom. She was a big girl now, after all.

Of course Javier hadn’t been able to say no to her.

“Hopefully we won’t have to paint again.” Javier remarked as he slid the paint roller onto the handle. “At least until Sofía’s older.”

“I already told Josie she’s gonna have to wait until she’s sixteen.” You laughed, grabbing hold of the handle and tipping the paint into the pan.

Javier made a face as you looked up at him, “That’s still a long ways out.”

“Not really.” You pointed out, wiping the paint you got on your thumb onto your coveralls. “Blink and she’ll be graduating high school tomorrow.”

“Nope.” He shook his head, picking up the pan of paint and taking it over to the wall he was starting on. “She’s staying six forever.”

You rolled your eyes, “If only that were possible.” You poured paint into a smaller dish, grabbing the angled paint brush to work on the area around the windows. “Frankly, I’m looking forward to sixty-year-old Javier getting hit on at his daughter’s high school graduation, while he blubbers like a baby.”

“That’s an oddly specific fantasy, baby.”

“I have many.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed, “Some include the dramatic reveal where we’ve been married for a decade.”

Javier snorted, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t know,” You said as you dipped the brush into the paint, spreading some onto the wall around the window. “Maybe when Sofía’s sixteen and begging for a car, I’ll just tell her to go talk to my husband. Just let it settle.”

“I did have a dream once where I was telling Steve I was already married.”

“Was he offering?” You glanced back over your shoulder, smirking at his scandalized look. “What?”

“No.” Javier rolled his eyes, turning his back to you as he started rolling the paint out across the wall. “I don’t really remember why we were discussing marriage. Might’ve been one of his rants about bachelor parties.”

“Do you feel like you missed out on that?” You questioned, dipping your brush into the paint again.

“I think Steve feels like I have.” He huffed, “I might be a few years removed from college, but I think he’s projecting.”

“Of course he is.” You laughed. “I can’t imagine he had one when he and Connie got married.” You glanced back at him again. “Is this something the two of you discuss?”

He looked at you then, “Not really. We’ve had a couple conversations about it. Steve doesn’t get it.”

“I mean, Connie’s never really understood the choice either.” You shrugged, “Little do they know.”

“It still doesn’t feel real.” Javier admitted, loosely rolling the painting stick in his grip, before dipping it into the paint and rolling more out on the wall. “I sometimes wonder where I’d be.”

“If that night hadn’t happened?” You questioned, glancing back at him to see him nod. “Yeah. I think about it sometimes too.”

“Would we still be in Colombia?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “If that night hadn’t happened at all… If things hadn’t changed, I’d like to think we’d still be down there putting up with bullshit. But eventually, something would’ve happened.”

“Yeah.” Javier exhaled heavily. “I think I was running myself into the ground.”

“You were.” Your brows furrowed as you focused on painting the wall. “We both were. There’s only so long you can run from yourself.”

“Look at you, parroting Nancy.” Javier teased lightly.

You laughed softly, “I mean, she’s not wrong. I think we both hated who we became in Colombia.”

“Wasn’t my proudest version of myself.” He agreed with a short humourless laugh.

“What is your proudest version?” You questioned, wiping paint off on your coveralls.

“When I read the girls stories at night.” Javier answered without hesitation. “Yeah. It’s when I feel like I’ve made my parents proud. You know? Always wanted to make pops proud of me.”

“I know for a fact that he’s proud of you.” You told him, sitting your paint brush in the container and sitting it down on the floor.

“Yeah,” Javier muttered, keeping his focus on painting. “Don’t get me started on that.”

“Alright.” You conceded. You weren’t about to push the topic of Chucho.

During the holidays, after a long conversation about your father with Mitch, Chucho had broached the topic of what he wanted when he eventually died. Javier and Chucho had sat outside on the patio and shared a joint while they discussed everything.

There was nothing wrong with Chucho, but he wanted to be prepared like your father had. But Javier had carefully avoided any conversation that could circle back to that one.

You couldn’t blame him. Chucho had this sort of immortal spirit about him that seemed wrong to regard by mortal standards.

“You know,” You started, hands on your hips as you turned back to look at him. “That’s something you and I should probably think about too.”

“You’re wanting to talk about wills while we’re painting JoJo’s room?” Javier sat the roller in the tray and sat it down on the drop cloth carefully. “Cheery topic.”

“After what happened with Sofía—“

“You mean the worst fucking day of my life?” Javier held your gaze. “Going over things with the social worker was… something I’d rather forget.”

“I know.”

“I’ve seen you hooked up to shit in the hospital three times now.” Javier gritted out.

You nodded your head slowly, “Not looking to add to that number. But it is something we need to think about. I mean, fortunately we’re married now which gives us a little more control over things, but…”

“But I’m trying to paint my kid’s room.” He gave you a look. “And not plan our joint funeral.”

“At least we’re on the same page there.” You grinned. “Everyone always says they want their partner to move on, live their life, find love...”

Javier held your gaze, “I don’t know if I could do all of this without it you. I got too close to finding out.”

You stepped towards him, “Losing you is my one fear.”

Javier reached out and curled his hand around your hip, “Pops never could move on. I don’t think he even tried. We’re stubborn men.”

“Just how I like my Peña men.” You wound your arms around him, resting your cheek against his chest. “I just want to make sure the girls are okay. I want them to have the best life possible.”

He kissed the top of your head, “They will, baby.” He assured you, rubbing his hand down the length of your back. “With both of us.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, a soft smile playing over your lips. “That is what I want.” You curled your fingers around the back of his neck, leaning up to press your lips to his. “You have paint in your hair.”

Javier gave your hip a squeeze, “I wonder where I got it from.” He grabbed your hand, holding it up and showing off the stripe of paint smeared along the side of your hand.

“It’s dry.” You retorted, twisting your wrist out of his hand sweeping your hand over his face. “Okay, I thought it was dry.” You tried not to laugh as you stared at the purple streak on his cheek.

Javier shook his head slowly, “Is this how it’s gonna go?”

“Maybe.” You smirked, walking towards the can of open paint and dipping the tips of your fingers into it. “Come here.

“Oh, no!” He laughed, taking a step back. “We are not doing this.”

“Come here!” You pursued him, wiggling your paint covered fingers at him. “I don’t want to get this on the floor.”

“There’s an easy way to keep that from happening.” Javier gave you a look, side stepping out of your reach, but laughing as you grabbed onto the back of his belt. “Come on, we’ve got painting to do.”

“Turn around then.” You urged, letting go of his belt so he could actually turn around. “You are no fun.” You taunted, painting your finger down the length of his nose.

He cocked his head to the side, “I’m very fun.”

“Are you?” You gave him a skeptical look. “I’ve seen your end of the year reviews, babe. I don’t think anyone has ever used fun to describe you.”

“That’s a low blow.” Javier wiped off some of the paint from his nose, smearing it over your forehead. “You and I seem to have plenty of fun in the bedroom, baby.”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, “I suppose that’s true. You can be very fun behind closed doors.” You smeared paint down the length of his arm.

Javier moved swiftly, wrapping his arms around you and turning you in his hold to pin you to his chest. “Looks like you’ve got a little paint on you now.” He said lowly, rubbing the paint from his nose onto the crook of your neck.

You half-heartedly attempted to get out of his hold, before sinking back against his chest. “What a shame.” You laughed, reaching behind you to get ahold of his hair. “I wonder if paint washes off.”

“Ha.” He tightened his hold on you, “Lavender looks good on you.” He whispered close to your ear, “But it looks better on the wall.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You laughed, elbowing him in the ribs.

“The sooner we get the room painted, the sooner we can take advantage of an afternoon without the girls.”

“What are you thinking?” You questioned, tilting your head back to look at him. “A nap?”

Javier whistled, “Tempting.”

“Right?”

He loosened his hold on you so you could turn around to face him. “Yeah, actually.” Javier’s lips drew upwards are the corners as he met your eyes, “It would be a long overdue nap.”

You arched a playful brow, “What? Has Sofía been keeping you up too?”

Javier rolled his eyes, “Even JoJo wasn’t this clingy at two.”

“It’ll pass.” You shrugged. “I’m not looking to do the co-sleeping thing indefinitely.”

“She’s lucky she’s cute.” Javier folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head. “But I could do without the foot in my face every morning.”

“She sleeps like you.”

Javier scoffed, “Upside down with a foot in my face?”

“Constantly needing to touch who she’s sleeping next to.”

He rocked his jaw slowly before agreeing, “Yeah, I suppose I do sleep like that.” He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, “It’s been a week.”

You gestured around the room, “And I’m hoping that with JoJo sleeping in Sof’s room for the next couple of nights, we might get our bed back.”

“Clever.”

“I have my moments.”

“You know these coveralls are doing it for me.” Javier remarked, plucking at the fabric at your waist.

“Oh, you poor sleep deprived man.” You gave his cheek a pat before stepping around him. “I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

You shot him a look, “Paint.”

He grinned back at you.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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strongsassysexysloane · 4 years

Text

Eleventh Day of Twelve - A Tired but Treasured Day

A/N - Look at that! We are second from the end! Thank you to all the comments and love! Really appreciate it, it's been a long week!

. . . .

Read previous drabbles below.

. . . .

You walked into the office clinging to your cup of coffee. It felt like you were just here and you were, only five hours ago. This time however it was your own doing. You'd found a tiny shred of evidence to go on and had to follow it before the trail went cold. Then it lead to Gibbs and Nick finding the killer in a warehouse in town and bringing him in at just after 0100. You didn't finish interrogating until 0200 and it was now 0730. Coffee, coffee needed to be pumped into you to wake up this morning and a constant flow throughout the day would be required.

To your delight there was a hot cup sitting on your desk as you walked into the bullpen. No note so you assumed this time it wasn't from your gift giver. Day 11 and no one had spilled the beans or gone looking at the cameras like they wanted to on day one.

"Gibbs dropped it off about five minutes ago before he went down to get a report from Kasie who wasn't pleased to be called in so early." Ellie explained while leaning back in her chair and sipping her coffee. "He brought one for all of us."

"Christmas miracles do happen." Nick grinned, dropping his small cup in the trash. "Done."

"It's not a race. You just slugged all your energy for the next three hours."

"Oh please, I've stayed up later and come to work more tired before. Remember the November incident." He waved off.

"I still feel hungover from it." Ellie grumbled, scrunching her nose at the memory of Tequila.

"Please don't remind me." Tim groaned. "Plus I'm not allowed anymore Tequila, Delilah's orders."

"She may be on to something." You ran your hand through your hair, smirking at the banter. Turning on your computer for the day, you saw the next gift hanging from your desk lamp. It was beautiful, a little teddy bear carved out of marble with a shimmering purple and green crown sitting on its head.

"Day 11, the gift giver strikes again." You rolled your eyes at Nick's words while holding the Christmas decoration in your hand, running your thumb over the intricate detail.

It was sweet, a cute addition to your small Christmas tree at home. You'd put it up on December one. That was your tradition and some years it didn't seem worth it but you made the effort. Being alone on Christmas sucked, there was no way around it but this year you were making an effort to not sulk about it. The secret gift giver certainly lifted the spirit as well.

Your tree wasn't over the top but a nice addition to your home. This would fit perfectly front and centre and you made sure of it.

The day was relatively easy. The office banter keeping the spirits going with a good supply of caffeine. It was really just a lot of paper work and then you were set free around mid afternoon to try and have that weekend off. This time Vance made sure the team wouldn't be called in. There were other agents to take the call after all.

You'd missed Jack most of the day and didn't want to interrupt her as she was head deep in evals for the end of year. Instead you decided to shoot her a text when you got home.

- Just wanted to say have a good weekend. Didn't want to interrupt your head mojo.

You knew she'd get a kick out of it and you weren't mistaken.

- Head mojo hey? Smarty in the evening just like you said. Missed you today, didn't realise how many evals I still had to do before I went on my trip. Now I'm back logged and still at work.

It was just hitting 1830 which was a late one for Jack on a Friday. She was always hurrying along at the end of the week to make sure by the time 1700 hit she was out the door.

- I hope you are either finishing for the evening or planning on having dinner while you work. It's getting late, Jack.

- No need to worry about little old me. I need to get these done, I'll grab a bite later. Enjoy your night.

An idea popped to mind, you grabbed your coat and car keys and headed back out into the snowfall with your blue scarf still wrapped around your neck.

Thankfully, you weren't too far from the Navy yard and the Diner was just a five minute detour on the route. You called ahead so the food was ready when you got there and still warm when you knocked on her door.

"Come in, y/n."

You huffed, opening the door. "Now how could you possibly know it was me?"

Jack was sitting on her couch, shoes off, legs crossed and glasses tugging her hair back and sitting on her head. "You didn't reply, you always reply. And you care too much." She got up, placing her laptop on the coffee table and walking up to you.

Those were a lot of compliments you weren't entirely prepared for. You thought Jack was the one that cared a lot, but never too much. "I think I care just the right amount but I can eat this all by myself if you'd prefer?" You smirked, pretending to walk back out but Jack caught your arm.

"I didn't mean it like that. I lo-ike that you care so much." She ran her hand up and down your arm a few times before dropping it away. Her warm comforting smile turned into a cute frown. "And don't you dare walk out on me now that youve made all this effort to come here." She took a deep breath in. "Is that two cheeseburgers and fries?"

The frown and the way her nose twitched at the smell was completely adorable. "With a side of gravy. Wasn't sure if you liked it on your fries or not." You shrugged, missing the soft and loving look Jack gave, you walked past her and sat at one end of the couch, unpacking the bag of food. "Come, sit." You urged, patting the spot beside you as she just stood there and watched.

With a soft smile curving her lips, she came around after a beat and sat exactly where you said to. She took the small pot of gravy and poured it over her fries before pouring the rest over yours. "Thank you."

You bumped her shoulder lightly. "Anytime. Can't have Jack Sloane Hangry and loose in DC." That got you a slap on the knee but it was worth it as her hand soothed the spot she hit and stayed there for a while until it was time to eat.

"Didn't mean to ruin your Friday night plans either." She took a huge bite of the burger.

Between bites you managed an answer, "You mean my big watching The Holiday movie while eating a cup of noodles or the one where I go to sleep at 7pm because im living on about four hours sleep right now."

Skipping over how tired you were she jumped at the mention of the movie. "That's my favourite Christmas movie! It's got the best of both worlds! The sun of LA and the cold winter wonderland of the UK. God, I haven't watched that in years! My mum and I went to the movies to watch it and then every Christmas after we'd watch it together, some people had Love Actually, we had The Holiday. Guess I stopped watching when mum passed." She ate a few more fries. "Wow, Jack, way to ruin the good mood. Sorry. Got lost for a moment there."

You liked it when she rambled. She always would say so many interesting things and you just loved to hear her voice. You prayed the day never came when you wouldn't hear it anymore. "Don't apologize-" You held up your hand to stop her from butting in. "- And, no it's not because of Gibbs silly rule. I enjoy hearing about your past about things you love or did. The Holiday is a sweet movie, my must watch in December along with The Grinch, Home Alone and many more. I try my best to keep the holiday spirits up when I'm by myself for them which has been the last many."

"I enjoy hearing you talk too." She smiled, taking a massive bite of her burger and filling up her cheeks.

There was no silence after that. The evals were put to the side and you talked for what seemed like hours. Talking about childhood Christmas' and silly stories to cringe worthy dating moments over this time of year. It wasn't until you couldn't keep your mouth shut from yawning that you said good night around 2300.

"Sorry you didn't get your evals done." You sing over the roof of your car as Jack unlocked her Mini.

"Don't be. I'm happy to come in tomorrow because tonight was fun!" Her genuine smile told you that she wasn't lying. You could read people pretty well and most times Jack Sloane was an enigma to you but right now you knew she was telling the truth.

"Good night, Jack."

She opened her car door before adding. "Enjoy your movie!"

You yawned with a laugh. "You're kidding right? I'm going to sleep, I'll watch it tomorrow now."

"Fair, good night y/n. Sweet Dreams!"

. . . .

Who doesn't want this to end? Me. But I also maybe, slightly want a break from writing every day. It's been fun but tiring. I've enjoyed it a lot though! I love this time of year, if only I wasn't working in retail.

#ncis #ncis christmas #ncis reader insert #ncis x reader #ncis 12 days of christmas #jack sloane #nick torres #ellie bishop #tim mcgee #jack sloane x reader

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

party planning committee marcus moreno x reader

+++++++++

this is a story in four parts, youll see what i mean when you read it but i wasnt exactly sure how i wanted to do this at first and thats just sort of what i landed on. but i think it kind of works.

He asks for your help to plan missy's birthday party since he still really has no idea how to do the whole girl party thing

Song: island in the sun by weezer

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

i moved to knock on the door when i heard a loud crashing sound, startling me. i knocked quickly and loudly after that, waiting for a moment before opening the door.

"marcus?!"

i yelled, looking around the living room.

"missy?"

i asked, stepping further into the house. when i made it to the kitchen i sighed in relief, my hand going to my chest as i saw marcus stood over the sink with a mixing bowl in his hand, a few other stainless steel appliances strewn about.

"marcus?"

i asked lightly and he jumped, looking to me and breathing deeply.

"jesus y/n, you scared me."

he said shaking his head. i walked closer to the counter.

"i knocked but i heard a loud noise and got worried. im just glad to see youre not hurt."

i stated, turning one of the bowls upright. he shook his head.

"well my pride is a little hurt but im glad youre looking out for me."

he said, looking from me to the paper sat on the counter. i furrowed my brows, looking over the island to see what it was. i laughed when i realized he was trying to make a cake.

"marcus what are you doing?"

i asked, picking it up and shaking the flower off of it. he sent me a bashful smile.

"well, i was trying to make a cake for missy's birthday but i guess that ship sailed a while ago."

he said, looking around to the mess he had worked so hard on. i shook my head, waving my hand in the air and everything picking itself back upright, the empty bowls stacking together and the powders on the counter making their way into a pile.

"here, let me help."

°°°°°°°°°

"Okay, now that the cake is done, what else did you need help with?"

I asked, wiping my hands on the kitchen towel and looking to him expectantly. He sighed.

"All of it actually."

He said, shaking his head and walking to the table. I raised a brow and followed him.

"Marcus you make it sound like you've never had a birthday party for missy before."

I said with a laugh and he sent me a look, turning his datapad on.

"I know but I never did any of this, it was always her mom. And last year be both just agreed on no party, just take time to be together instead."

I nodded as I sat beside him.

"I know how much you both miss her, hell I find myself missing her sometimes too. She really was the best part of the team, even without powers."

I lamented, looking to my hands now folded in front of me on the table.

"I just wish things were easier."

He said and I nodded in agreement.

"I'm sure they'll get there, one day at a time. But you gotta work at it, like today. You've already successfully made a cake."

I pointed out and he laughed.

"Yeah, and without your help that probably would've ended very badly."

I laughed too, shaking my head.

"Baking really isn't for everyone."

I said and he side nodded, opening a planning sheet in his tablet.

"You can say that again."

He mumbled, turning it to show me.

"This is what I have so far, and everything she wanted."

He said and I nodded, reading through it.

"This is her twelfth birthday, and she's finally made more friends, thanks to the heroics program. I just want this to be a special one for her."

He said and I sent him a small smile.

"So, did she give you this invite list, or did you make it yourself?"

I asked and he looked at me funny.

"Both?"

He asked and I laughed a little bit.

"Okay, that's good, I guess. Cause it's her party so you want to make sure you're inviting people she likes to talk to and hang out with."

He nodded in understanding.

"Right. I did run it by her but i sent the cards out already, time wasnt really on my side for this one."

He said bashfully and I nodded once.

"thats Okay, it looks like you at least have a theme done. That's good. List of essentials. Oh okay. now let's look at what you have planned."

I scrolled down and stopped, sending him a look. So far he just had 'sleepover?' he let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck.

"A sleepover?"

I asked and he shrugged, slouching a little defeated.

"Yeah I don't know. It just seemed like a good idea. She used to have them all the time. But again, I never really did any of that stuff."

I nodded, tapping the screen and deleting his idea.

"Here, how about this: a pool party. I know you're a master of the grill, you could invite all the heroic kids and their parents over and have a barbeque. The kids can swim. It'll be a good time."

I suggested and he nodded, a wide smile on his face.

"That actually sounds like a really good idea y/n."

He said and I sent him a knowing smile.

"we can run that by missy too, just to make sure, we only have a few days after all and we need time to notify the guests that weve changed things."

°°°°°°°°°

when the big day finally came i was awoken from my spot on the couch to missy jumping down the stairs excitedly, a wide smile across her face as she dug in the fridge for something for breakfast. i had spent the night to help marcus decorate and was definitely regretting staying up as late as we did.

"morning."

she said in a chipper tone and i offered her a smile as i sat up.

"morning."

i said a little groggy, looking back over to the stairs as marcus trudged down them too, a tired look on his face.

"morning."

he groaned, going straight to the coffee pot and pouring a cup. i laughed a little at him as i stood up, stretching out.

"ready to get cooking?"

i asked, pulling my sweater on. i hadnt expected to sleep over so i was still in the clothes i had worn over. he just sent me a look, missy eating at the table now and nodding quickly.

"why did we make this thing for one oclock again?"

he asked playfully and missy sent him a look.

"youre the one who agreed to the pool party."

she pointed out and he made an 'o' shape with his mouth, making missy and i both laugh as i joined her at the table.

"alright, let me go get dressed and then we will start cooking."

°°°°°°°°°

when the party was finally over and everything was cleaned up i looked to marcus, drying the last of the dishes and putting them away quietly.

"what ya thinking about?"

i asked, leaning into the island and watching him intently. he frowned at me for a second.

"do you think she really had fun today?"

he said, looking over to the couch. after all the guests had left missy had showered and changed, and after having aloe applied generously to her sunburnt face, fell into a deep sleep sitting on the couch. i smiled, remembering what she had said to me earlier when she came in to get a drink.

"well considering she thanked earlier for making her birthday a special one for both of you im gonna go with yes."

i said, him finally smiling back at me as he put the last dish away.

"she really said that?"

he asked and i nodded.

"it was mentioned."

he sent me a look.

"she had said that not only was she having fun, but she was just happy to see you enjoying yourself again too. all the heroics laughing and having a good time next to their kids also having a good time; you really made a difference today."

he shook his head.

"okay, and what about you?"

i raised a brow.

"what about me?"

"did you have a good time today?"

he asked pointedly and i sighed out a laugh.

"yes Marcus, i had a very good time today."

i confirmed and he nodded once.

"good, because i would feel so bad if you hadnt. youve helped me so much here lately, i think you deserve it the most out of all of us."

i shook my head at him amused.

"thanks, but i doubt that."

he swallowed hard, furrowing his brows.

"no no don't say that, you work twice as hard as the rest of us. i just wish you could see that."

i looked to the ceiling for a moment before standing up and stretching.

"well if thats true then i think i deserve some sleep. though it has been fun, it has been one long day."

he nodded once.

"want to stay the night again? you can sleep upstairs in my room tonight if you want, i think missy has kind of taken over your spot."

he said with a laugh.

"i probably shouldnt, i need to get home, i gotta get my mail water my plants, all that jazz."

he watched me with a light gaze as i gathered up my things.

"well, im glad you could come over. and if you want to come back tomorrow for lunch-"

"id love that marcus."

i said and he smiled at me, a small blush visibly rising to his face.

"its a date?"

he asked, walking to the door with me. i thought for a second and nodded.

"yeah, its a date."

i said, his smile getting wider as i stepped outside.

"ill text you what time ill be over."

"ill be waiting."

#wattpad #x reader #marcus moreno #we can be heros #heroics #imagines #one shots #319

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finn-ray-nal-beads · 4 years

Note

Two thoughts for your garbage fire extraordinarie!

I would love hear your worst holiday lines for your unholy trinity! “Santa’s not the only packing a big sack,” etc!

Or, if you want a break from that shit lol. Here’s one of my personal Clyde HCs that you use as you please! Since you asked...

So, I’m not not super into dad kink myself, but I totally see Clyde as been like super dominant, but polite about it lol. Things like “maybe if ya tell me real nice why you think ya deserve to cum, I’ll let ya.” Or “now, ya just know how much I hate doin’ this to ya, darlin,’ but ya had to keep goin.’” “Ya know good n’ well that a lady’s supposed to say ‘please’ when she’s askin’ for my cock.”

I also think he’s a freak in the sheets with one of the filthiest mouths and I think he has a breeding kink! He’s gonna give you a lot more than just a present under the tree and he’ll make sure “your Christmas is gonna be extra white this year, lil’ darlin.’”

I feel ashamed.

FUCKIN OMG @safarigirlsp I LOVE THIS TIME OF THE WEEK BECAUSE OF THE DEPRAVITY BETWEEN OUR BOYS AND THEIR STUPID CATCHPHRASES! SO AS AN XMAS GIFT TO YOU AND EVERYONE SURROUNDING THE GARBAGE FIRE IM GONNA ANSWER ALL THE QUESTIONS FROM THESE CRAZY AU’S TO THE BEST OF MY CRACK BRAIN KNOWLEDGE!

HERE WE FUCKIN’ GO! 😂

Favorite one liners from our holy trinity....

The first being our resident Sea Fury, Capt. Flip SS “Blowhole” Zimmerman BDE, who now that I think about it must not really know what Xmas is, given that he sails the seas constantly and could give a rat’s ass about holidays in general. After all, he’s got treasure to find for himself and no time to dilly dally with stupid festivities such as Christmas.

Sure, there’s an occasional snow storm on the high seas, which freeze him and his crew’s dingle berries to raisins when it blows through, but there’s no lights surrounding the massive Jolly Roger, no festive music of any kind because he runs a tight ass ship, clean as a fuckin’ whistle at all times with no fuckin’ funny business, except in the case of fuckin’ around with you that is.

On the eve of the 25th, pirate time, the both of you are settled in your dining hall, a feast of succulent seafoods, baked to perfection via the resident cook on the ship, lay before your starving eyes.

Your clad in one of your synched corsets, hardly able to gulp down the wine he’d poured because the waist is knotted so damn tight, causing your tits to practically explode onto the table, like he would so badly welcome at this point.

He sits perched in his captain’s chair, dressed in his finest buccaneer garb, feathered hat and all, swirling his chalice as he devours your body with his eyes in the candle light.

Watching your every move as you choke down the drink, throat moving to push down the liquor as you take a deep inhale, expanding your gravid chest as you push your self more into the seating.

Noticing your boobs bounce with every motion you make to add food to your plate, the ebbs and flows of your soft tits as they beg to be set free from their cage.

His cock twitches in his pantaloons as he catches himself boring into your chest, clearing his throat to take a swig of his wine as well, before gathering himself back into reality.

“Where did ya go sailor?” chuckling as you watched him chug his spirits down his gullet, watching his Adam’s Apple bob as you salivated thinking about sucking a huge bruise on the appendage.

He forced the glass on the table, shaking the food as he exhaled from his gulps, gathering his thoughts for a moment and then turning back to your position, eyes darkened with mischief.

“I was... thinking,” he cooed, spreading his thighs wide, showing the mast that had erupted in his pants, “I heard the men conversing about this day being a special one of sorts,” taking his hat from his head to run his thick fingers through his hair.

“And?” you paused from taking a bite of shrimp before he continued further, “what does this have to do with what you were staring me down for Phillip?” cocking your head to the side as he watched your tits waver from your motions.

“I was thinking of making it a special one for us as well, my sweet siren,” cooing as he leaned himself closer to your side of the table, “what do ya say ya sit on ol’ captain’s mast and tell him your deepest desires?” coaxing a finger to lead you to his thick meaty thighs as you blushed, thinking about him impaling your pussy on his whale cock.

Now onto our noble land warrior, This Is Sparta...

I had to do some digging on this one because I know the Spartan’s had several festivals they celebrated because of their many Gods and Goddesses they worshipped and made sacrifices to... So, the closest I found was the tradition of Gymnopaedia (or the festival of naked youths as it’s translated) which is celebrated for over a week and honoring the three mythical beings Apollo, Artemis, and their mother, Leto and showcased bachelors and their marital and athletic capabilities (similar to the Olympics but naked) to the single women of the city of Sparta.

SO LET’S HAVE SOME FUN WITH BACHELOR WARRIOR FLIP SHOWIN’ OFF THE GOODS TO HIS BRIDE TO BE!

The streets were fraught with nude and glistening warriors of all abilities. Their bulging muscles, thick meaty thighs, and their endowments on display for all the thirsty women of the city to pick and choose their best suitors.

You sat perched in your spot as you surveyed the music and majesty before you. A face in a crowd of hundreds of hungry women, each devouring their male counterparts, itching to be filled with their potent seed as they tossed discus and arrows to show their strength and protective capabilities.

None of them were catching your eyes, however, even if they all were desperate for the attention, demonstrating their wares for the most beautiful woman in the village.

Each begging to be the apple of your eye, practically injuring themselves as they showcased their endurance and stamina to get you to pick one of them from the crowd of body oil and testicles.

You sighed, shooing away the suitors one by one, earning scoffs and side eyes from the other women, telling you to stop being so picky or else your womb will dry up from your negative outlook on the sea of cocks clouding your vision.

You craved something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you desired a man whom desired you in the least desperate sense. Who cherished your independence, your thoughts, your body, and your soul. None of these suitors were capable of fulfilling your womb in that sense, so you kept with the shooing as you searched for your perfect mate.

Suddenly, a valiant warrior appeared from the crowd, his muscles rippled and his cock swinging at attention as he made his way to the front of the line of men.

His hair and inky frame over his chiseled face as he bent over to grip the disc laying in wait, encircling the rock with his humongous hands as his back and legs flexed from him lifting the weight above his head.

Your womb ached as you watched him effortlessly throw the object further and more accurate than any of the other boys present during this festival of games, the heat causing a bead of sweat to form over your heaving tits clasped under your white robes.

He huffed as he descended from his perch, moving his way to the crowd of hungry women, each fawning over his size and strength as they clawed to get his attention.

He paid them no mind, zeroing in on your goddess-like posture, not giving him a single indication that you were interested, even if inside you wanted to scrape the ever loving fuck out of his thick pectorals.

Your eyes met as he trudged through the seas of desperate cries and declarations of love from the girls below you, pushing them off like flies as he came to your eye level.

You crossed your legs, pushing your chest out like the lady you were, not breaking eye contact with the brave soldier before you.

“Y/N,” he muttered out amongst the music and cheer, his face the picture of seriousness as he spoke it to you.

“Phillip,” you recanted back, smoothing your garment over your midsection, only to look back up to see his cock, half hard and leaned to the left, precum leaking from the tip as his pecs rose and fell from his glistening chest.

“Will you join me in a dance?” moving a large hand in front of him as he begged you with his darkened eyes, to move off your throne of sorts, “please,” his voice changed slightly in desperation for your delicate hand.

You sat there, taking in the moment as it came, moving a hand to envelope in his as you lifted your effervescent figure to come to his nude form, feeling his cock press against your thigh as he took you in his arms.

“This way my dove,” he calmly led you through the mess of scowls and scoffs from the other bachelorettes, knowingly irritated at the fact that you’d bagged the hottest and most fertile warrior in the city.

It was the best festival week of your entire life, ending with the betrothal between the both of you, sealed by the Gods themselves.

(I’m sorry there’s no funny catchphrase I couldn’t find a way to weasel it in this kind of story lmao, but I did say cock a lot so there’s that!)

And last but certainly not least, the Holy Ghost himself, Rootin’ Tootin’ Shootin’ Cowboy Rustler Flip Zimmerman (Huckleberry)

It was a good ol’ fashioned country Christmas on the homestead, complete with snow, ice, and of course you tied up on the dining room table being stuffed seven different ways to Sunday like a holiday honey ham.

You’d already sustained your precious cowboy mercilessly face fucking you, cumming an unholy amount deep in your throat, the remnants mixing with your saliva as you laid spread wide open on the wood furniture.

Your breath heaving from your chest as you begged for Flip to continue his holiday quest of stuffing you full of him for Christmas.

“P-please Phil!” you begged, exhausted and wishing he’d touch you in the spot you so badly craved, “I-I!” stammering as he chuckled above you, lighting a cigarette, with is cowboy hat atop his head, and his naked hulking body heaving from his attack on your precious mouth.

“Ya know I love it when ya beg ta be stuffed like a Christmas stocking ma sweet vixen,” inhaling a drag of sweet nicotine as he watched your cunt gasp for his cock, dripping in anticipation as he made himself hard again watching your asshole pucker from the air in the room.

“Yer lil’ pussy’s beggin’ for me ain’t she?” he exhaled a cloud, gripping his half hard dick, smearing the remnants of your spit on his girth as he threw his head back form his own touch, “beggin’ to be stuffed like that damn turkey in the oven,” he cooed, ashing his filter in the tray by the doorway, rubbing his hands together as he surveyed your pretty figure, laid out for him.

“She o-only wants y-you,” whining as you tried to wrench your head around to see where he’d found himself, hoping he was mere inches away from your heat as you writhed in your restraints.

“Mhmm,” he mused, running his thick hands on your ass, smoothing the skin as he reared one hand to slap it with all the might he could, the ripple from the heat of the blow causing an instant five-star to bloom on the pristine cheek.

“I love these honey hams a yours darlin’,” he cooed, slapping the other cheek to match its twin, “there so, juicy,” eyes growing dark as he drank in your whines from the pained blows you’d sustained.

Stilling your hips to prod his thick cock at your weeping hole, the pressure causing you to lose your ever loving mind as you felt him penetrate your walls with a painfully slow motion, making your cunt eat him centimeter by centimeter.

“P-Phil!” screaming out and begging for more friction, trying to break free from your expertly knotted ties on the legs of the table.

“Uh huh darlin’,” he tsked, still inching himself in as you cried out into the living room, “naughty girls don’t get presents, don’t ya remember how the song goes sugar?” he chuckled, stilling himself for what seemed like hours before he started his assault on your tight little hole.

HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT. I CANNOT EVEN REMEMBER WHAT I WROTE I HOPE IT’S DECENT ENOUGH TO BE WORTHY OF THE WHALE COCK VIBES!

🖤,

ray-nal-beads

#the holy trinity #captain blowhole #this is sparta #im your huckleberry #this is the most cracked out au #i need a cigarette #or five packs of them stat #ask the bead night #ask the beads

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tommyhardyx · 5 years

Text

Mr Solomons - Part 10

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Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons x Reader Word Count: 4.2k Summary: Alfie is still in a bad mood with his broken leg, and an old friend comes to visit. Warnings: swearing A/N: I’m so sorry this took me so long! I’ve been trying to figure out where to take this series and I think I’ve finally worked that out so hopefully it won’t take me too long to get the next chapters done now I know what’s happening. Also thank you to @acciostilinski for helping me write Tommy, making sure he’s not too nice.

With Alfie moving around easier on his crutches, and his breathing becoming easier as his ribs begin to heal you expected his mood to change. Hell, you figured the regular blowjobs you’ve been giving him would be enough to lift his spirits, but still he’s been in a bad mood.

He has his good days, sometimes only good hours, but more often than not he’s in a foul mood, his frown set deep on his face.

Some days he has Ollie pick him up and take him to the distillery, taking Cyril with him to keep him company. But most days he sits around the flat, watching TV or working on his laptop, his bad mood filling up the room.

Today is a day like that, with Alfie on the couch with Cyril while you sit at the table, with your laptop open in front of you, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you work on an article, for the first time in a while the words come so naturally to you, the narrative pouring out of you so easily.

Your fingers falter when you hear a knock on the door, the sudden sharp noise of it breaking you out of your flow of words.

“Can you get that for me love?” Alfie calls to you, and you sigh as your train of thought is broken and you get up to go open the front door.

A vaguely familiar looking man stands in the doorway when you open it, his suit more expensive than anything you own, piercing blue eyes assessing you as the corner of his mouth turns up slightly.

“Can I help you?” you ask.

As the man nods, you notice a bottle of what looks like whiskey in one hand, while his other rests in pocket and he glances over your shoulder into the flat behind you.

“I’m looking for Alfie. He home?”

His voice is what makes it click, his accent so distinct that you suddenly realise who you’re looking at. Tommy Shelby.

“Yeah he’s home,” you step aside, opening the door wide enough for him to step through. “He’s in a mood though.”

Tommy seems to be amused by this as he steps inside. . “I’ve dealt with his moods before. Tommy Shelby”

He says his name as if it should announce him, careful eyes watching your reaction as he gauges exactly what Alfie has told you about their friendship.

You nod, and introduce yourself, doing your best to be polite to a man with such an air about him.

There’s something about Tommy that makes you uneasy, maybe it’s the eyes that seem to be looking into your soul, or that he walks in as if he owns the place.

Alfie glances over the back of the couch as the two of you approach, genuine surprise on his face as he looks at Tommy.

“Tommy? What’re you doing here?”

Tommy places the bottle of whiskey which bares his own name on the table before coming over to sit in the armchair across from Alfie.

“I heard what happened, thought I’d come see how you’re doing,” he explains.

You fold your arms over your chest, feeling oddly uncomfortable in the place that has come to feel like home to you in recent weeks.

Alfie watches Tommy for a moment, eyes narrowed slightly in what looks like thought before he looks over at you.

“Can you give us a little privacy?”

Frowning, you watch as Tommy reaches into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette case and a lighter.

“Oh… uh, sure. I’ll just take Cyril for a walk,” you decide, not wanting Cyril to be around if Tommy is going to smoke.

“No worries love, see you in a little bit.”

Tommy nods at you as his way to say goodbye, and you give him the briefest of smiles as you clip Cyril’s leash onto him and leave the building, the dog brimming with excitement.

“So,” Tommy starts as soon as the door closes, running the tip of his cigarette over his lips, “That's the journalist aye?”

“Yeah mate, that’s the journalist. So, what’re you doing here Thomas?”

Tommy leans back in the armchair, crossing one leg over the other as he lights his cigarette.

“I heard about what happened and I was in London so I thought I’d come and see you. You look worse than I expected,” Tommy explains, a small smile on his face which could only come from years of comradery.

Alfie huffs a laugh, hand running through his beard as he moves his arm over the back of the couch.

“I heard it was Sabini who did it,” Tommy continues, flicking ash into a coffee cup sitting on the table “He’s been spinning yards, telling everyone he sent you to the hospital.”

This comment earns a snort from Alfie, the older man shaking his head slowly.

“He didn’t do anything, sent three other cunts to do it for him. Didn’t even bother to show his face,” Alfie says.

“And what do you plan to do about it? Or are you going to sit here feeling sorry for yourself until you get the plaster off your leg?”

Alfie bristles at the comment, before y/n he never would have hesitated to show Sabini what happens when you mess with Alfie Solomons, even if he was retaliating for Alfie making the first move. Now he hasn’t even considered it.

“Not feeling fucking sorry for myself mate, just biding my time alright?”

Tommy’s eyebrow quirks, the disbelief clear on his face.

“Is that right? Or is your relationship clouding your judgement?”

“Don’t fucking bring her into this Thomas, she’s got nothing to do with it.”

Tommy leans forward, putting out his cigarette in the coffee mug he’d been using as an ashtray.

“You asked her to leave, seems you haven’t been entirely honest with her,” he comments, watching the anger bloom on Alfie’s face. “A year ago, if I had said any of this to you you’d’ve pulled a gun on me, but I guess these days you’ve got your guns locked away far from the view of the journalist.”

Alfie’s hand curls into a fist on his thigh, his jaw clenching as he glares at his friend.

Seeming satisfied with himself, Tommy stands his hands returning to his pockets as he does.

“If you decide to stand up for yourself, give me a call, I’ll be in London until the end of the week.”

Alfie doesn’t say a word as he watches Tommy go, his hand slowly sinking beneath the couch cushion, fingers brushing against the metal of the handgun he’s had tucked away down there ever since the attack at the distillery.

When you step back through the door, the lingering scent of cigarette smoke is the only evidence that Tommy was here at all.

“He’s gone then?” you ask by way of greeting, letting Cyril off his leash so he can go join Alfie on the couch.

Alfie smiles briefly at his dog as Cyril settles his head on his lap, his fingers immediately moving to pat the dog’s head. You move across to the other side of the room, opening up the windows to let in fresh air to flush out the smell of smoke.

“Yeah love he’s gone,” he says, his body relaxing slightly.

You nod, sitting back at the table planning to get back to work on your article when Alfie glances over the back of the couch at you.

“Are you alright? Somethin’ seems off with you,” he points out.

Shaking your head, you stand up to grab your hoodie off the back of another chair, pulling it on.

“I’m fine, I just… something about Tommy made me uncomfortable,” you admit, the bad feeling that buried itself in your stomach when the man walked in like he owned the place still present.

Alfie nods, calling you over with a flick of his wrist. You come to stand behind the couch, and his hand finds your own holding it softly.

“Yeah he does that to people, don’t worry alright? You won’t have to see much of ‘im. He lives in Birmingham, just came by to see me while he was here,” he explains, his thumb brushing the back of your hand.

It’s the most affectionate he’s been with you for weeks without being in a bad mood, without it feeling forced, so you can’t help the small smile that creeps onto your face.

--------------------

With only a week to go until the cast is supposed to come off, just seven days until freedom, you assumed Alfie would be in better spirits about everything but he’s still in a mood, still grouchy whenever you try to mention it.

After all this time he’s still unable to accept that he isn’t invincible, that what happened would happen to anyone.

Making your way into the coffee shop, you spot Hannah and Ollie immediately at a table near the back and smile when Hannah looks up and grins at you.

A waitress comes by to take your orders, and soon enough three cups of coffee sit before you on the table.

Hannah was the one who suggested to meet up for coffee, deciding that as Alfie’s three caretakers it was about time the three of you sat down without Mr Grumpy himself to chat. She pulls you in for a strong hug as you approach the table, as does Ollie before you settle into the empty chair left for you.

The conversation begins with no mention of Alfie, Hannah and Ollie checking in with how things are going at work. But, as expected, soon enough the conversation turns to the man you all have in common, and as you listen to Hannah talk, her true motive in inviting you here becomes clear, she wants to make sure he’s not chasing you away.

“Look, I know Alfie can be bloody miserable when he’s like this but really he means well,” she explains, sipping her iced coffee.

“Don’t sugar coat it Hannah, he’s been a prick to everyone since he got hurt, just don’t judge him entirely on how he is now compared to how he was before that, he’ll get over it eventually.” Ollie says.

“Will he? Because I’ve tried talking to him, tried telling him that what happened could have happened to anyone, but he’s so ashamed that it happened to him he just shuts down and refuses to talk to me,” you explain.

Ollie sighs, glancing at Hannah before turning back to you.

“Let me talk to him. He’s stubborn but he usually listens to me, I’ll talk to him about it,” Ollie offers. “If he doesn’t listen to me then Hannah can try.”

Hannah nods, her hand reaching across the table to settle on your own.

“He’ll listen to Ollie, really just come spend the day with me and Ollie can go over and talk to him,” she offers. “We can have a girls day and just not think about my grump of a brother for a little while.”

You smile softly, noting the comforting feeling of Hannah’s hand on yours.

“Yeah alright, that does sound good,” you decide.

Hannah beams, brushing a stray curl away from her face.

“Yay! We’ll have a great time while poor Ollie here has to go see Alf,” she says with a teasing grin at Ollie who just rolls his eyes.

“Lucky me.”

--------------------

For the first time in a while the front door opens to reveal not y/n, but Ollie, six pack of beer in hand and as he steps inside, Alfie has a feeling this isn’t a friendly visit.

“Hey Alf,” Ollie calls as he shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the hook by the front door.

“How’s it going mate?” Alfie asks, watching his friend carefully as he runs his hand over Cyril’s head, the dog resting on his lap as he has taken to doing ever since Alfie got hurt.

“Alright, how’re you feeling? Getting around a lot easier these days,” he comments.

Ollie puts the beer in the fridge, grabbing one for each of them and handing one to Alfie before he sinks into the armchair across from the couch.

“Spit it out, you ain’t here to ask about me fuckin’ leg,” Alfie says as he cracks open his beer.

Sighing, the younger man takes a sip before he speaks having rehearsed exactly how to engage Alfie in this conversation on the way over, though he didn’t expect to have to get to it so soon.

“Right Alf I’m saying this because I’m your friend and y/n is too nice to say it, you’re being a fucking prick.”

Alfie blinks once, twice, three times as Ollie’s words sink in. Not one to often swear, or to say a bad word about anyone, Alfie knows that if Ollie is calling someone a prick, he means it.

And he’s not wrong, Alfie knows he’s being unfair especially to y/n when all she is doing is trying to help. But he can’t shake the feeling of shame he gets whenever glances at his cast, or feels the twinge in his chest from the pain of his healing ribs.

“Yeah,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face and up into his hair. “Yeah mate I know.”

“You’ve got a really great girl, don’t let her get away because your pride is hurt. We both know there’s nothing you could have done that night. Even you can’t fight off three guys,” Ollie says, his voice strong, but sympathetic.

Alfie allows a grin to slip onto his face, looking up at his friend who doesn’t often stand up to him like this.

“Look at you, come here to tell me off aye?”

Ollie rolls his eyes as he sips his beer, but Alfie just laughs as Ollie’s words roll through his head, the first real laugh coming from the man in quite a while.

“Ah fuck. Don’t know why she’s still ‘ere to be honest with ya, if I were her I’d have fucking run weeks ago,” he mutters, running his hand over his beard.

“Because she loves you, that’s why she hasn’t left,” Ollie offers, and Alfie just shakes his head.

“I’ve fucked up haven’t I?”

This time it’s Ollie’s turn to laugh as he looks at his oldest friend.

“Look, you’ve been a prick sure but that doesn’t mean you’ve ruined everything. Do something nice for her, surprise her with a nice dinner or something and apologise. She’ll forgive you because she wants to forgive you. And I know that because she told me that, we’ve been talking about you,” he adds with a grin.

Alfie just shakes his head, a hand rubbing through his beard. “I assume Hannah is behind that,” he says, and Ollie just shrugs.

“Who else would it be? You think y/n or I would do that? Of course it was Hannah. She cares about you Alf, she just wants to make sure you’re happy and without y/n you’re not as happy. She doesn’t want you to lose her. We don’t want you to lose her.”

--------------------

Coming home from work a few days after seeing Ollie and Hannah and Ollie’s promise to talk to Alfie, you’re exhausted from a long day and ready to collapse into the couch with Cyril and forget about anything.

Of course you can’t do that, because you have the grump to look after. It’ll be hours until you get to sit down and relax. Well, at least that’s what you’re expecting.

Walking into Alfie’s place, you’re surprised to find a glass of wine on the coffee table, candles surrounding it as the only light in the room, with Alfie nowhere in sight.

“Alfie?” you call out, shrugging off your coat and drop your bag onto the armchair beside you.

“That’s for you,” Alfie’s voice comes out of nowhere, making you jump as you turn in the direction on his voice. “Dinner’s almost ready, so you just sit there and drink your wine until it’s ready.”

He moves steadily on the crutches these days, making his way towards you standing by the door leaning in to kiss you softly.

“What’s this for?” you ask.

He rests his crutches against the wall, his arms slipping around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a cunt since this happened, I know I have. You’re tryin’ to fucking help me and I’m being a grumpy fuck all the time,” he says, his eyes focused on yours as he speaks.

Even though you know this is only happening as a consequence of Ollie having a talk with him, you can see the sincerity of his apology written all over his face. Gently, you press a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for apologising,” you mutter, resting your forehead against his as you wrap your arms around his body. “I guess what Ollie said sank in huh?”

He smiles, reaching to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Usually does, he doesn’t often have a go at me so when he does I know it’s serious. But I am sorry y/n, you’ve pretty much been living here with me and I’ve been nothin’ but a grumpy prick the whole time.”

You smile moving your head to settle against his chest, his big arms holding you tight and comfortably against him.

“I love you y/n, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah Alf I know. I love you too.”

The two of you stay like that for a while, his arms feeling like home again after weeks of tension between the two of you.

Eventually he pulls away, a soft kiss pressed to your head as you whine at him pulling away.

“Gotta check on dinner love. Get comfy on the couch, drink your wine and just relax yeah?”

You nod, kicking off your shoes and giving him one last peck on the cheek before letting him go.

“I’m just going to change into something more comfortable first.”

After dinner, you and Alfie snuggle up on the couch, his arm around your shoulders as you rest your head on his chest, a movie of your choice playing on the TV in front of you while Cyril sleeps by your feet.

For the first time since Alfie got hurt, the first time since your trip away you finally feel like things are good again, finally feel that sense of comfort and warmth from being around him.

As your trip to Brighton comes back into your mind, you’re reminded of a particular conversation between the two of you.

“Alf, do you still want to get another dog?” you ask.

His eyebrows go up, a look of surprise on his face as if he entirely forgot he ever intended to get another dog.

“Yeah.... fuck I forgot we talked about that. After I get the cast off, there’s a dog shelter not far from ‘ere and we’ll go there and pick one out,” he decides, his eyes falling on Cyril who is asleep on the floor by Alfie’s feet.

“Sounds like a plan,” you say as you snuggle further into his side. “Thank you for tonight, this was really nice.”

Alfie smiles down at you, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“Ollie’s the one you should be thanking, he suggested this. But you deserve it, I’ve been a cunt to you ever since I got hurt and you’ve done nothing but try and look after me. I’m sorry for making things so difficult for you.”

You smile, pressing your lips to the tip of his thumb.

“It’s alright Alfie really, you don’t have to keep apologising. Just as long as you don’t go right back to being a prick in the morning, consider yourself forgiven.”

He chuckles, his lips pressing against your forehead.

“I promise it won’t love.”

--------------------

Watching Alfie as you make your way through the animal shelter, you smile at the sense of wonderment on his face. Ever since you reminded him about getting another dog Alfie’s been in a better mood than he has for weeks.

When he got the cast off you asked if that was what he was so happy about but no, while he was relieved not to need the crutches anymore the prospect of being able to do things entirely for himself again a definite mood booster, he was mostly excited to go look for another dog to join your little family.

“Aw love, look at this little one,” he says, squatting down in front of one of the cages. You move to stand by his side and your eyes spot a small grey pit bull puppy in the corner, chewing on a toy. “What’s a dog as young as you doin’ in a place like this huh?”

“She was brought in a few weeks ago, someone had hurt her. People are cruel to breeds like this one,” one of the workers overhears Alfie and fills him in, Alfie’s brow furrows at the mention of the puppy being hurt.

“Who the fuck hurts a dog this small that can’t even defend itself?” Alfie grumbles. He turns to the worker. “Can I hold her?”

She nods and unlocks the cage, giving Alfie the chance to reach in and carefully lift out the puppy, holding her against his chest.

“Hello little one,” he says, his voice unusually soft as he holds the dog up to his face.

The puppy leans in, tail wagging behind her, as she licks Alfie’s cheek earning a laugh from the man.

“I think she likes you Alfie,” you point out, smiling at the excited puppy in his hands.

The worker smiles at the sight of the big man playing with the usually shy puppy.

“She hasn’t been this open with anyone who has come in and looked at her. We’ve been calling her Blue but you can change her name if you decide to take her home,” she explains.

“Blue aye? I think that’s a good name for her,” Alfie says, gently scratching under the dog’s chin. “What do you think love? Think she’s the one for us?”

His inclusion of you in the decision is touching, bringing a smile to your face as you let Blue sniff your hand, smile growing when she gives your hand a little lick.

“I think she’s perfect,” you tell him. “I think Cyril will love her too.”

Alfie grins as Blue leans in to lick his face once again.

“We’ll take her.”

From the moment she first laid her eyes on Alfie, Blue loved him. As soon as you get her home, she doesn’t want to leave his side, only going near Cyril when Alfie carries her over to him giving them both a chance to sniff each other.

Alfie has to lead Blue around the place to prompt her into exploring the flat, eventually deciding to go off on her own, sniffing everything in sight as you and Alfie set up a bed for her. Cyril watches Blue carefully, following her at a distance as he makes his mind up on how he feels about the new addition to the family.

Now, as you and Alfie cuddle together on the couch little Blue sits on his lap, too busy trying to chew on his finger to pay any attention to any of the toys you had bought for her earlier that day.

“She really likes you,” you comment, smiling at the look of contentment on Alfie’s face as he plays with the puppy in his lap.

Alfie grins, laughing as Blue attempts to climb up his chest, settling down so her head rests below his chin.

“Think you’re right love,” he says, fingers gently patting the dog. “I like her too.”

His free hand settles on your knee, his fingers brushing against you as he looks from the dog on his chest to you.

“I’m glad to see you in a better mood Alf,” you admit, earning a grin from him.

“It’s nice to be in a good fucking mood again. I was bloody miserable all those weeks, and I know I was fucking miserable to be around. But now the leg is healed and my ribs are almost healed, I’m plannin’ on making it up to you for having to put up with me,” he says, a sly grin on his face.

You shake your head, leaning in to press your lips to his hand resting gently on his cheek.

“Oh you better be making it up to me. I had to put up with a lot from you,” you tease, his chuckle forcing your smile to grow.

Blue barks, sensing that she has lost yours and Alfie’s attention. You pull back, turning your attention back to her, and smiling as she tries to chew on Alfie’s beard.

“I don’t know how dogs seem to love you so much, I’ve never seen a dog around you that doesn’t love you immediately,” you tell him, fingers brushing against across Blue’s back.

Alfie grins at that, looking from Blue and back up to you.

“Guess I just know how to charm dogs,” he says with a wink.

Tags: @eap1935 / @coolmaybelateruniverse / @sandyddt / @inkeducatednnerdy / @ravendor28 / @thisisjeany / @overitall2018 / @outofbluecomesgreen / @mollybegger-blog / @bilesxbilinskixlahey / @elemph / @pointlessblogger99 / @marvelfangirl-x / @madbrilliant84 / @lotusbreathe / @justanothershelby

#Alfie Solomons x reader #Alfie Solomons imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #modern alfie

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nahalism · 5 years

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Pls do share

well.. i was doing a breathing/grounding meditation in the park and began to experience having multiple bodies. (an energetic body, mental body, emotional body, pain body, sound/vibrational body, light body [even a ‘colour body’ that isnt limited to one colour, but does vary in colour according to the person and emotional state] ect).

being that i could see myself existing beyond the parameters of my physical body, (liquid, organs, skin have restrictions that light and sound dont), i began to see if i could gauge where i started, where i stopped, and if i could still experience things that were beyond the periphery of my body and my senses. i had already read a lot of books, particularly Drunvalo Melchizedek’s the flower of life and Masuru Emoto’s the miracles of water, so i understood the basis of vibrational frequencies, and thus how my own vibrational frequency was not only regulating my body, but as depicted by the merkaba/tetrahedron often used in esoteric teaching, was being projected beyond my body and consequently impacting all that surrounded me whether i was aware or not.

[although this isnt directly related, it happened and i find it interesting so ill proceed to include it]. i settled on the feeling that there was no ‘end’ point to which i felt i could project myself. and because of that i began to think about urban planning. the proximity of houses and apartments in cities, how close we sit, stand and work to each other, the construction of our undergrounds/metro’s and most congested areas. i thought about the idea of none of us ‘beginning’ or ‘ending’ in any specific place, the possibility that we may all just be individualised/localised experiences of the same thing living in an amniotic sac that we call the world, a world that is fundamentally made of the same energy as us. and that if that were the case, how little truly separates us. and that if so little separates us then just how contagious thoughts, emotions, and a persons ‘way of being’ might really be. then i thought about why the most expensive communities are less densely populated, filled with detached houses, have less wifi.. why people with similar income brackets, daily practices, and mental attitudes choose to preserve these communities with such urgency and legislations as they do. then i continued thinking about the impact that environment can have on someone and how what one is consistently exposed to impacts their spiritual, mental and emotional evolution. i then began to acknowledge how ignorantly i conduct my own self when i walk clumsily on the ground or forget to look at the sky above me, because in doing so i realised i was neglecting two entirely separate realms of reality, and by doing that id neglected to consider the impact i was having on the life forms that inhabited those spaces. i started to think about how if a thought or a word can alter the molecular structure of water, what was there that i or other humans could do to reverse the damage being done to the earth: the geopathic stress that runs underground, or even the displacement happening to the earths techonic plates. that went on for a while then i spent some time taking in the people in the park. watching their demeanours, seeing if i could ‘feel’ them despite their distance from me.

this all got a little claustrophobic so i decided to breathe through the experience with my eyes closed, and as i did, i saw two movements in my minds eye. [1] light being used to draw an infinity sign in darkness. the motion was continuous. and [2] the second (which is unexplainable) but resembled a motion similar to a bowl of water continuously spilling over, each time re-absorbing the fallen water from underneath. almost like a continual feeling of sucking something up and pouring it back out.

[1] the first image that arose felt like the vertical motion of breath and the sense of continuity i felt whilst breathing. though i could easily distinguish the act of breathing in or out, breathing itself could not as easily be divided into parts. neither breathing in or breathing out could be said to be start or end of of breathing. similarly, despite the presence or negation of air in my lungs, the ebb and flow was consistently interrupted by a median in which there was both presence and absence. everything was woven together, in order to breathe new air, old had to be removed. in order to remove that air, new air had to be breathed. both processes were inextricable.

[2] the second image felt more lateral in motion, as though i were a nucleus and waves were both emanating from me and being drawn to me. at this stage i was in flow from the vertical breathing (finding expansion in the body with each breath in and ease in the body with each breath out), and as this progressed lots of feelings that made sense but lacked chronology & are hard to articulate flooded in (so excuse if this gets confusing). the small motions of up and down changed to a cycle/continuous stream, of up, out, over, in 🔁. [energy spurting out the head, throat, hands, chest, and stomach, washing out and over beyond my physical self, then coming back in as if drawn by a magnet, and up through the feet and through the sit bones]. as i continued to watch this happen the energy began to feel denser and more potent. and so i imagined pushing/propelling it further out beyond me, projecting it at the world, plants, people ect. and so as i continued to watch this happen i realised that which i was receiving could only be that which was a match to what id sent out. moreover, focusing on asserting the energy didnt stop me receiving the energy that came back & vise versa. the two were different processes, and each process could be focused on individually without its counterpart, but when i breathed with mindfulness of the two the energy grew more potent. [legit, the only thing i can liken this ‘energy’ too is the depiction of nen in hunter x hunter]. and as this was happening i remembered what i had learned about polarity [yin/yang, masculine/feminine energy, the upward facing tetrahedron/the downward facing tetrahedron], and adopted an electro-magnetic view of the situation. our ‘upward facing’ tetrahedron (representative of electric force, order, structure, assertion, reason, logic and masculinity) can be likened to the upward and outward projection of energy. similarly the ‘downward facing’ tetrahedron (which is is symbolised by magnetism and governs chaos, pleasure, creativity, sensuality, carnal instinct, receptivity and femininity) can be likened to the force that pulls the energy down from over and back in.

im not sure the correlation between what i observed that day and what i answered in the ask earlier is clear, but that is the resource i drew on to help me articulate my view. a lot of teachers and businessmen in the business of self empowerment do speak about transmuting sexual energy to creative energy (napoleon hills a good one) but i think when getting into these matters its good to understand the science/the alchemy. for example, this principle taught me a lot of things; how much power one conscious, self aware individual harbours. humanities true capacity to raise not only their own spirits, but the collective spirit of all they encounter. ectect. but looking at it under the lens of manifestation showed me how understanding the individualised polarities (especially that despite differences all things are fundamentally the same) and learning to balance them, is whats key to not only developing the lives we want, but fundamental to being able to maintain them. moreover understanding of the fundamental principles teaches the individual particular guidelines that are key to knowing how to bring precisely what they want, and not what we think they want, into being. funnily whilst imbalanced application of the two leads to .. imbalance.. lol, the imbalance if questioned shows itself to be perfectly balanced. e.g if one confronts the chaos that emerges in their material world, they’ll likely find the root issue to be a matter of the mind. similarly, having a structured plan and logical path to attain ones goal means nothing without the emotional intelligence necessary to enjoy the plan once come to fruition.

anyway. moral of the story is that books are great and they often provide sound information by teaching terminology and introducing concepts but, experience is the best teacher. understanding and consolidating the information we learn so that it becomes knowledge upon which we may build wisdom, is a process that occurs within the individual. so dont worry bout the books, if you are curious knowledge will find you. in the meantime, go and live

#ask

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purge-that-urge-rhackathon · 6 years

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heyhey that post abt how not to treat bartenders has got me curious so here i am sliding up in ur askbox again lmao 😂 sooo... when i eventually go to a bar for the first time (since ive only ever had two mixed drinks in my entire life) whats the best way to approach that instead of just choosing something at random? would asking the bartender for their recommendation be a good thing to do? weird question probably but im known for those P: XD

oh MAN am i ever glad you’re asking this!! No joke! And before i would even attempt to answer this (and i vented a little, sorry xD im very surly and its been a long day and i still dont have internet at home), i’m gonna send you to The Bartender Hates You youtube compilation (they’re 30 second shorts as to why we as bartenders fucking hate people… and its 100% accurate af let me tell you ahahahha amusing as shit cuz its all TRUE) xD

First off, don’t be like the freshly 21 bitch who comes up to my bar when i have a HUGE lines and goes “uuuuh… i don’t know… what do you recommend?” Bitch am i psychic? I don’t know you, i don’t know what you like, i don’t know your allergies/taste preferences like you wanna know what i recommend? A beer, because thats gonna get you out of here asap and every minute i spend trying to find something you’ll like, you are literally costing me money by me not being able to make more drinks/be able to earn more tips.

Real talk like sorry i need to vent because im still mad about this AHAHAHA

Like, im not gonna try to sell you a tequila cocktail if you dont drink tequila, right? Or something sweet if you dont like sweet, right? SO red flag number one this is not gonna end well for me:

she doesnt know what she likes (u dumb or something i dont know you get out of line and go read the fucking menu)

she’s admitted to being ‘freshly 21′ (her birthday was 3 months back o_o)

she asks “Well what can i get for 20$?” CHEAPSKATE ALERT CHEAPSKATE ALERT she a cheapass ho im not gonna get tipped

I sold her a jack honey and coke and something else, her change was 45cents from a 20$ bill, and DID SHE TIP EVEN THAT PIDDLY CHANGE?? NOPE! literally this bitch took ten minutes for a fucking jack and coke, kept apologizing (like bitch stop apologizing and get out of line and figure out what you might like) taking up all my damn time and you could see everyone else in line getting frustrated and i am clearly frustrated myself but trying to help as best i can like i still feel the urge to strangle like fucking fuck.

SO in answer to your question: have an idea of what you like. Drink to your own tastes, not whatever is in vogue or ‘looks cool’ (i have literally had people order ‘the pink martini on the menu cover’ cuz its cute. And im like Do you like vodka? ‘Ew no i cant stand it!’ bitch why are you ordering a fucking vodka martini then???) That’s what assholes do and then they dont like their drink cuz they didn’t have two braincells to think for a moment that they should ask whats in a certain cocktail/tell me what kind of liquor they like/don’t like so i can actually help make an informed decision.

If the bartender is busy/there’s a long line, choose something simple. Do a spirit and soda (this freshly 21 bitch said ‘OH i’ll do that then.’ ‘do what?’ ‘a spirit and soda’. BITCH a spirit is L I Q U O R. fuck. WHAT KIND OF GODDAMN LIQUOR AND GODDAMN SODA MIXER YOU WANT IS THIS PRESCHOOL??? she thought it was a drink…. GOD i am STILL mad about this hahaha). If you do want a more complicated cocktail, stick a $5 bill down close to the spill mats when you order so we know its for us before making your drink and we’ll be more than happy to make you whatever fandangled bullshit you want, AND make it again with a chipper ass fucking smile when you come back for round two. Treat us right and we’ll treat you very right.

“But purge, you can’t honestly expect me to tip $5 on top of the cost of the drink!” yes, yes i can if you’re ordering some goddamn nonsense. Where do you even think you are? Get the fuck out of my bar otherwise.

Industry standard right here, regardless of price: tip $1 for each pour of beer/wine, tip at least 2-3$ depending on the effort that goes into a cocktail/drink youre ordering. A tequila sunrise for example (tequila, oj, grenadine, cherry) $1-2 is just fine. Those are simple, i could make them in my sleep. If there is shaking/muddling/fresh squeezing of fruit wedges/blending? You better be tipping at least $2.

Just have an idea of what you enjoy/what you don’t, and the bartender should be able to help you out. And an FYI: bartenders have EXCELLENT memories/facial recognition. I know the names and faces of the cheap dickheads and also the ones who tip very well.

The cheapskates are the ones i always help last, and i never bother to rush (hell i’ve over-helped people i’m currently serving because fuck cheapskates man. i will go out of my way to make you wait longer). The folks who tip well? Front of the line, VIP service, i make sure everything is absolutely perfect.

And let’s not act like i’m being classist about people with money vs people without. I’m talking about the folks who also run $80+ food tabs aside from the beers and stuff they’re drinking, so trust me, they can afford to tip. And if you can’t, then don’t fucking go out. We’re selling a luxury item/experience, not a staple like bread or milk.

#poisonjack answers #you're such a sweetie pie sorry i vented so much AHAHAH #truth is i LOVE my job its fun as hell but for how fun it is- the inverse is equally true for how hard it is #we work our asses off and you get those people who go 'oh i never tip' and it just... the dregs of humanity...#ive always been taught to be a good tipper because people fucking rely on that shit #i am very very passionate about my work HAHAHA #i have maybe another 10years left in this profession because i look really young... but bartenders do age out unless you're a specialist #trying to make the most of my time haha

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cranberrybogmummy · 6 years

Text

The afflicted gift chapter two.

Link to chapter I: http://cardboardfacewoman.tumblr.com/post/181554081647/hey-all-im-writing-some-fantasy-fiction-set-in

She felt a gentle pressure on her left shoulder, and a fluttery soft sensation of hair against her skin, it was Dolly, laying her head against Hypatia’s shoulder as she had done so many times before. She felt Dolly’s ghostly fingers on her collar bone, softly tapping. Hypatia sniffled, smiling wanly she pressed her head against the phantom body of her sister. Since Hypatia was currently in her body she could not, see Dolly or hear her but she felt her. Hypatia fell asleep again, and dreamt deeply of her lost family, together and happy. How she wanted to stay in that dream, to sleep for days, but there was no way Hypatia could stop time, and a loud knocking at the door woke her once more.

“Mistress Pat! Mistress Pat!” Called the voice of her housekeeper, Betty form outside the door. “There is a visitor, who says he must speak to you!”

Hypatia groaned and shouted at the door: “Tell him, I’m not receiving callers!”

“He’s from your uncle Philiscus, your trustee, you have to receive him!”

Hypatia groaned wearily and muttered the spell to unlatch the door. “You can come in Betty.”

Betty entered, she was a thin, bespectacled, wiry woman, with thick curling grey hair under her mop cap. She wore a dress of olive green and over it a white apron.

Hypatia reached to her left side, but Dolly’s presence was gone, she moaned softly. Betty was putting her hand on Hypatia’s head, running her fingers through her dark blonde hair.

“Oh Mistress Pat, we lost Dolly today. I went, and could hardly see the gallows for the tears in my eyes. All of us in this house want time to mourn and bury our dear Dolly,” Betty said, cradling Hypatia’s face in her hand. “It seems it ’twas just yesterday that you were but little girls, sneaking sweets, and your Father at his desk, your Mother at her loom.”

Betty broke off to cry and press Hypatia to her. They hugged and cried for a little while, then Betty gently got off the bed and went to the heavy dark wooden dresser. “Oh, you’re uncle’s man is here, what will be become of us? I hope that servant who is sat at my kitchen table picking his teeth with a knife, can tell us the reason, You’re uncle abandoned his goddaughter to be executed!”

Hypatia found the nightstand and poured out water from the basin. She washed the tears from her face and began to unbraid her hair. Betty was laying out a plain black dress with the best white lace collar, cuffs and cap. The lace collars and cuff had been her mother’s as was the dress, it smelled of camphor, cedar and dust, it had been adjusted for Hypatia, but not worn since Father died. She was dressed, and her hair was done. in between she ate a piece of toasted bread which Betty and given her.

“Thank you. Betty,” Hypatia said quietly. “without you and Mrs. Watson, our family would be helpless and diminished.”

“It’s just what I’m supposed to do, Mistress Pat,” Betty said with a soft smile.

Finally they were ready to leave the room. Betty went down the stairs first and Hypatia, waited, a cold fear in her belly, then she smelled Dolly’s scent, and felt her sister’s hand in hers. Together, hand in hand they walked down the stairs.

Uncle Philiscus’s man servant sat at the worn wooden table, in the kitchen, his boots resting on the tabletop. Mrs. Watson, round and sweet, Dolores’s nurse sat across the room from him, glaring at him and knitting. The man servant was picking his teeth with a small knife, his clothes were mud stained and travel worn. His hair a sandy blond, short and greasy. He leered at Hypatia with his sunken green eyes and smirked. Also he had a unwashed miasma about him. Hypatia Dolly’s on her hand tighten, she could almost feel Dolly’s nails digging into palm.

“Wainthrope, at yer service Miss.” He said his teeth were big and yellow, his eyes hungry as a starved dog.

“Take your boots off the table, and treat my house with some respect.” Hypatia said.

He smirked but did so. “I’m sorry miss, tell your maid that when a man travels as far as I’ve come, he expects a small beer and something to eat fer his trouble.”

Hypatia glowered at him. “My uncle’s letter, if you please, Wainthrope. Then I’ll see to it you are fed, impudent cur.”

Wainthrope lowered his greedy eyes and took a letter from inside his coat, and laid it on the table. Hypatia grabbed it and saw it bore the blue wax and seals of her uncle.

Now she could feel her sisters hand on her shoulder tight as a vice and almost swore she could hear Dolly’s anxious muttering.

“Leave,” Hypatia ordered.

“You said I could eat,” Wainthrope protested.

“I’ll have my housekeeper take you something outside our gate.” Hypatia said firmly.

Waintrope got up muttering something foul under his breath.

“My sister died today, cur, you have some pluck to come here and act this way.” Hypatia growled.

Wainthrope turned back for moment. He smiled toothily said: “I know.”

Hypatia opened her mouth to shout at him.

but he turned back and walked out the door. The stink left with him. When he was out of sight and ear shot, Hypatia sagged, Dolly’s nervous ghostly touch was gone.

“Betty, please take him out a heel of stale bread, a mug of small beer, the chipped mug and the smallest greenest sausage we have.”

Betty nodded. “Aye.”

And set to work.

Mrs. Watson chuckled.

Hypatia caught herself smiling. She ran her thumb over her uncle’s seals.

“Now I shall read the letter uncle sent.” She said and left the kitchen. Dolly did not leave with her.

She went into their old sitting room, mother’s loom was covered with dust, where mother wove her spells with common thread, father’s dark wooden desk, also dusty and unused since his death five years ago. Hypatia popped open a drawer and removed a silver bodkin, with it saying the words of the spell she opened the letter, the bodkin glowed as it ripped through the seals, one was her uncle’s sigil a cat rampant, then the other two which were magical sigils cast in wax to protect the contents of the letter. The letter, was blank, not a even a inkblot. Hypatia felt her temper swell for moment, then realized, it was enchanted. She opened a another drawer, and took out a small glass bottle stopper’d with a cork, inside was a powder that shimmered blue, when shook, but was dull gray when still. Hypatia took out the stopper and removed a pinch of the powder, she dusted it over the letter. Now she could see writing, but it was scrambled into nonsense words! Of course, uncle Philiscus would write in code. She took her hand and traced a pattern in the air over the letter. The words began to unscramble on the page making sense but just for a moment. She sighed, another hitch. She traced the pattern over the letter again, and held it up to the light of a distant window. NOW she could read it!

“Dear Patty,

I know my method seems dull, like non-magic folk use. But all other ways are to fraught. I do not trust the fellow that carries this letter, or anyone but you and Tom.

Your missive reached me of Dolly’s plight. Tragically the work I am engaged in was to important for me to reply or come. I attempted to send for a fine lawyer for defend Dolly, but alas! By the time I was able to get a message to him, Lord Stedwell (your magistrate) had sentence her to hang! I loved dearest Dolly, she was the brightest flame I knew. However I cannot leave my task nor can I tell you. I recommend you come when you are able to live with myself and Tom. I will let you make the choice yourself. If you have a good, loving young man marry him. If you have a place at Fordsley sorcery college, go! I will send on your allowance, shortly. Please bury our dear Dolly with family, damn those who will try to stop it! Ye shall prevail, my goodly niece. We shall prevail!

-Your loving uncle,

Phil.”

Hypatia sat thinking on the words, for a good space of time. She had no offers for her hand, what man would want a poor, half trained sorceress? There was Fitz… but he never made a offer, so she wasn’t sure. There was that time in the grove, where they kissed. but maybe his time at Fordsley had introduced him to finer ladies then her. She had no place and Fordsley herself, no one had secured one for her, since places were passed down the father’s line usually… what hope did she have? Besides Dolly was dead. No matter what Dolly’ spirit, free and godless said. She could no longer stroke her sister’s hair, listen to he breathing or share the games they’d play. She’d never hear her voice in the bodied realm again. Though Dolly didn’t talk, exactly, but hearing her made Hypatia feel safe. Never again.

Mrs. Watson cautiously entered the room.

“Excuse me Miss,” She said in her soft soothing voice. “Betty’s husband and sons, have Dolly’s poor corpse with them. what should we tell them?”

Hypatia bit back her tears and summoned all her strength. “Thank them for retrieving her, before the riffraff could marr her. Tell them to bring her to great room. we are going to lay her out, and give her a proper burial.”

Mrs. Watson smiled. “Ah, Miss, that’s so wonderful of you.”

#The afflicted's gift #fantasy #magic #My writing #ASD #Original fiction #fiction #original writing #writing #Autism #Actually autistic

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