#fuckin look at the entire country of italy. do i even have to say anything?

[introspectivememories]

if you're writing a charles fic, it must have some aspect of boyking. he must lean a little on the childgod side. he has to be revered a little bit, adored even. if people aren't talking about him like they wouldn't wash his feet and adorn it with perfume like mary magdalene washed and adorned jesus' feet, you're doing it wrong.

[peakywitch]

The Psychic 2 - Tommy Shelby

part one

masterlist

warnings: swearing of course, mention of the dead.

word count: 1.3k

author’s note: this is just SHIT but i like it but then again i don’t ?? so i may be changing a few things over the next few days, nothing too big.

The entire Shelby family was dead silent. They were very busy looking at the woman with the cards.

"No, that’s a lie." Tommy laughed sarcastically.

“This is no lie, Mr. Shelby. I don't lie about these things.”

"It’s a fuckin’ lie!" he yelled, standing up "Grace is bloody dead! And do you know how I know? Because she took a bullet, that was meant for me right in fuckin’ front of me!"

"Mr. Shelby…"

"Not! You don't get to say a damn thing!"

"Thomas..." Polly began.

“You are a liar, Y/N! You’re…!"

“Watch your words, Thomas. You don't know if she's gypsy.” Polly said.

"I don't give a shit, Pol." He replied, with fire running through his veins "I don't give a shit what this liar...!"

"Mr. Shelby!" the girl screamed, being a ball of nerves and fury. Who would’ve think she'd be yelling at a Shelby?

“Mr. Shelby nothing, Y/N! You’re…!" the Shelby was starting to get closer to the poor girl, covering her completely.

"Your heart lies by the Thames!" the girl screamed, over the screams of the fearsome man.

Thomas' eyes were wide open, his brow furrowed tightly and his hand in a fist.

"By the Thames…" the poor girl breathed, trembling with fear "lies your heart, Mr. Shelby."

The Shelby's face froze, remembering.

"The ashes…" Y/N whispered again "The woman bathes in them."

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, sometimes I receive things in code." She sighed, as she watched Thomas walk away from her.

 .

As Y/N poured tea into two cups, Thomas looked at her little house. The dense velvety violet fabric covering the window kept everyone from looking through it. Her walls were covered in drawings, pieces of paper with different symbols and figures. She had a lovely cupboard, filled with colorful mugs and matching kettles. Everything was too jazzy for him, but portrayed in a beautiful and funny way the soul of it’s owner.

"Your… er… house, it's very… "

The anxious lump in Thomas' throat was killing him, it was the first time he had a hard time speaking.

"Little, I know." Y/N smiled, after putting down the kettle and serving homemade lemon cookies on a plate.

Weird. Thomas was thinking about the word weird. But he resisted.

"Mr. Shelby…" began the girl "I won't tell you anything mystical today, you don't have to be nervous."

"And who told you that? My mother?" he asked, with a wryly tone but steady eyes.

Wearily, the girl replied, "The constant tapping you're doing with your foot it telling me, and it's driving me crazy."

The noise stopped.

Y/N sat across from the Shelby, then sipped her tea.

“Why are you here, Mr. Shelby?”

The man in the suit cleared his throat, settling in the chair he was.

“Right.” He took a lemon cookie, and talked with it in his hand. His accent was so thick, one could barely understand him.

“I came here, Y/N, to apologize.” He bit the lemony sweet treat he was served a few moments ago. In his lips, he had a few yellowy crumbles. The most scared gangster in the whole Birmingham, if not the country, had crumbles in his lips from a homemade lemon cookie.

A smirk was almost present in Y/N face. She was biting her inner cheeks, trying to hold it back. After trying to drown it in tea, she spoke:

“Don’t worry, Mr. Shelby.” She let the smile appear on her face. There was no way that smile wasn’t going to show up.

“Sometimes…” she spoke, softly caressing the golden edge from the tea cup, and then she looked up at him “things we don’t want to notice, or know, come to us. Sometimes in the strangest way, sometimes in the most mundane.”

“How’d you know?” he asked, his eyes were not going to abandon hers.

“I…”

“If Grace is alive, somewhere, how did you know all the stuff you told me?” he wanted to know, but at the same time he wanted to forget everything. He wanted to forget everything Y/N told him, and go back to being a widowed man who had a kid and an illegal business to run.

“You have one shitty guardian angel, Mr Shelby. He was getting tired from all the bullshit you’ve put him through. So he wanted a vendetta.”

Y/N was messing with the Shelby. It was risky, yes. But, boy was his face something. He was speechless and a little embarrassed.

“Mr. Shelby, it was a joke.”

“Oh…” he whispered, and drank tea.

“I can see dead people, Mr Shelby. I don’t only hear them. So, whenever I’m walking, they come to me. They sometimes want to pass a message or say something in particular.”

“You told me private stuff. Things from Grace no one knew she told me.” He said again, tense.

Y/N scratched hey left eye, and sighted.

“Grace told everyone about his father getting killed by the IRA. But she never told to anyone about his sister and her mother, Mr. Shelby. Only the dead speak about their death. We suffer them, we try to forget. We never speak about them again. But the dead, they do. And they want you to find Grace. I don´t know why, I don’t know where, but…”

Thomas’ mind was working a thousand miles per hour. He interrupted her:

“Can you find her?” he asked, after finishing his drink and getting up to leave.

“Mr. Shelby…”

“I said” he put on his peaked hat, “can you find her?”

The look Thomas had in his eyes, touched something inside of her. She felt his inner desperation, his sorrow and saw all his sleepless nights.

“I can try. I can’t promise success but…”

“Speak to God, speak to Lucifer. Go to hell, go to heaven. I don’t care. But, by order of the peaky fucking blinders, you will help me find her and bring her home.”

Just like that he left, leaven the poor girl with a bittersweet taste and a heart full of pityness.

 . 

A cold body was running down Watery Lane. Four o’clock in the morning. The wind was the only sound present, but she couldn’t stop hearing a voice over and over again. When she arrived, she began to yell:

“Tommy! Open the door, Tommy!”

Y/N was waiting outside the Shelby residence, screaming Thomas’ name while knocking non-stop the black door.

“Y/N?” said the Shelby, appearing in his pajamas. “It’s fucking four in the morning. What it is?”

He looked so sleepy and housewifely. If it wasn’t for the Italian voice ringing her ear over and over again, she would’ve blushed.

Two hours after, the clock told Thomas it was quarter to six. Y/N was sitting in the couch, chewing a piece of bread. On the coffee table beside her, was a paper with her handwriting:

oltre La piazza, Oltre il poNte

olTre i mulini, oltRe le catAste

“Y/N, tell me what it means.”

“I said I don’t know, Tommy.”

“You wrote Italian! There’s no way in hell you don’t know!”

Y/N sighted, exasperated.

“I don’t speak Italian, Shelby. I just wrote what I heard. I don’t even know if I wrote it correctly.”

The argument was a cycle. I don’t, you do, I don’t, you do. Five minutes after the monotonous fight, Polly stepped into the living room-

“What are you idiots doing arguing this early?!” she asked, angrily.

“Thomas, I speak to the fuckin’ dead, i don’t speak Italian.”

“Italian?” asked Polly. She was as tired as she was lost.

Y/N handed her the sheet, without getting up the couch. Polly read the piece of paper, only to be as confused as the two who were fighting.

“Instead of arguing, why haven’t any of you thought about going to our own little Italy here in Small Heath for translation, eh?” she asked, with an annoyed expression.

taglist: open

@halepea

[shesawriter39049]

|ROLL DEEP|M| P.1

                 *Yoongi centered fic with a shared OT7 plot*

CH.1.1   CH. 1.2

**Operation: What’s eating blue!?***

_________________________________________________________

“Stop, this stopped being a you, thing and became a us thing  the minute we chose to show up here tonight! You gave us an out and we stayed...we will always stay...”

1.2 K Sneak Peek

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Sugar baby AU/Suspense/Smut/Angst/Roomate AU/FWB AU

WC: 7K

Nonsexual Warnings: Mentions of drug use (Molly/weed/)Strong language/ Alcohol addictions/ brief mentions/ speculations of domestic violence/abuse

Sexual Warnings: Oral (M & F receiving) power bottom Min Yoongi, cum play, breath play, spanking, dirty talk, Slight overestimation, sex toys (Cock rings....) Semi-public sex (A chill little blow job in the car) The sexual warnings are for both parts of CH.1 so the smut is split in half!

NOTE:  Just to clarify the dynamic Yoongi and the OC are roommates who hookup on the side, they are BOTH sugar babies to two separate people! So yes, that would imply that Yoongi and some of the other boys who are also sugar babies are Bi. There is no MxM but there is mentions of it occasionally….as well as some harmless ot7 flirting! Also all of the boys are introed, Tae and Joon just play a lager part here!

_______________________________________________

I guess, fuck where do we even start? Maybe, will go back to where it all technically started, which was the last time things felt...somewhat normal yeah?

So, that would be...hmm...about 2 weeks shy of you heading into Junior year at USC right? The day your boys picked you up at the airport, and the three of your treated Blue, aka TaeTae to brunch!?

Well, wait let’s back track a little it all started much eariler than that, because you weren’t even aware of your brunch plans until later in the day. So Initially the day in question kicks of with you, in oversized blacked out CHLOE shades, hungover as fuck, sat in at the airport one Sunday afternoon. Smack dab in the middle of Terminal 6, in a bar called Blu2o sipping on a Bloody Mary, scrolling aimlessly through Snapchat. While simotaniously being told for the very first time ...that you’ll be attending a “Haute Couture”  themed charity auction...on Tuesday! Yup,  the day after tomorrow! Thank god he can’t see your damn face right now, biting down on your straw to muzzle yourself!

“No, babe it’s fine, I’ll just hit Rodeo tomorrow morning, and I’m sure my nail and lash girl can fit me-Oh you...haven’t gotten... what ...your wearing either?” Parroting the words back In slow motion as if it would make the words sound better or something!

Oh for fucks sake! Bringing your forehead flush to the marble bartop already feeling a full blown migraine brewing at the nape of your neck. Giving yourself a couple moments to self compose, this man is so damn unorganized it’s unfucking real. His personal assistant better be the 2nd highest paid person within his entire company because…..This is far from new, I don’t even know why your suprised and I’d say you don’t get paid enough for this....but ya do! So you suck it up, lose the attitude and slip right into your “Yes sir” or maybe I should say ‘Yes daddy” voice.

“Don’t worry about it, I know your busy. I totally get it, your a 28 waist right? Of course, I remember...I remember everything you tell me….Ohhh your gonna let me put you in color too???” Eyes flickering up to the notification from your bank, noting a cute little 12k wire pending.

“Yeah, no, I see it, that should be good. I was thinking Versace or Cavili for you anyway...they have good prints to fit the theme, and if all else fails I have my card too…yup..just landed about..hmm... 30 minutes ago actually. Of course, stop apologizing, Sunday's are always your golf days, I get it, hey, tell the guys I said hi and enjoy your day. Text me later if you feel up to it..k....bye..”

Were you actually getting a little flustered there towards the end? It's the slight accent, isn't it? Honestly, it didn't take much for you to slip into “character” with him, even after barely being together a full month. For one he wasn’t an asshole, had a decent sense of humor, and he’s really fuckin hot...however there was one, little, well shit, not so little issue...you noticed while with him recently. Which, then sparked quite a few questions while also answering some that had been rattling through your head since the day you met. But will circle back to the fact that you spent a week on vacation with a man, while dressed in some of the sexiest pieces of 2019 couture! Yet..you barely got touched once outside of a couple chaste kisses and hand-holding while at the two fashion shows you attended together… so, yeah, yeah!

A low groan in frustration rattled from your throat as you continued scrolling through Snapchat, trying to come up with some possible outfit scenarios in your head! It’s kinda funny, how mynute all of that seems now though, how your definition of “Stress” that day was you trying to decide if your sugar daddy was gay, while also  finding time to fit in a self-care day, shopping, and getting your books for school!!  The fact that, that was what you considered migraine worthy, fuck, what you wouldn’t give to consider multitasking your only maltitude of “stress” again …..

Just in your own little world, mind swirling with a couple of stylists you’ve met along the way, considering the idea of them pulling some vintage pieces for you instead!  What you should be doing, is scrolling through your contact list and texting said stylists, instead you find yourself more and more distracted.  Getting lost in the mounds of snap updates from Jimin as he “modestly” sunbathed in a private villa in Italy. Then later sharing a glimpse into his shopping spree from Versace, no doubt a good 20k worth of Italian luxury spread out along the plush white sheets. Sending him a cheeky little “That’s my boy” with a couple of smug winky faces in response!

It’s still kinda crazy to think, things like that are considered normal within your world now, the fact that you aren’t even surprised at the number of gifts. Or, simply the fact that your barley 21-year-old best friend is sunbathing in Italy on someone else’s dime. Then again, you just got sent 12 thousand dollars to spend on an event that would last maybe all of 5 hours, while sitting next to a stack of Louis Vuittion luggage from your first class flight in from Vegas, technically. Opting to land there first after a long 15-hour flight, checking in at The Four Seasons for not even a solid 24 hours before coming home! Honestly?There was no real reason for the pit stop except it gave you an excuse to see a friend while also allowing you to unwind in one of your favorite hotels!

That sentence alone is actually absurd when you really think about it, the idea of you casually booking flights and suites in 5-star hotels as if you’re ordering off the damn dollar menu at Mcdonalds! You, the girl that was working two jobs at the Groove and mourning a piece of shit cheating ex boyfriend her freshman year of college.....is now reminiscing about catching flights to chill with friends and last minute finding dresses for Couture themed galas.Like, what the actual fuck is life.... Oh my bad, life at the moment is constantly being paranoid that you and your friends will get arrested! Life in this moment however...was a fucking perfect!

The friend you where meeting in Vegas was Hoseok by the way, the redhead was currently vacationing in Sin City for the next couple of days, typically residing in LA as well. Just Chillin’ before the semester starts, living his best life, which revolves around “OFF-WHITE'' shopping sprees, private dance lessons, and constantly taking thirst trap pics for his 10’s of thousands of followers online. He randomly texts you saying “I miss your face” you text him saying “I land at 8 tonight bring a bottle and sushi to room 605 at The Four Seasons hotel '' Simple!

Your initial flight, the one that was 15 hours, was originally from Paris, where you spent the last week or so with Jeong-su, being arm candy, sipping wine, sightseeing and of course shopping!. Barley 32 hours ago your Snapchat looked pretty damn similar, if not worse in comparison to Jimin’s but what can I say, you can’t be in the home of Givenchy and Gaulthier and not go to Givenchy and Gaultier!

What your life is, what you and your friends do, I mean, I think it’s safe to say it’s pretty self-explanatory yeah? The average 20 something-year-old in college isn't flying themselves out of the country or going luxury shopping without a little help. In your case, it’s typically thanks to a person you commonly refer to as “Daddy” now, the context behind the word however….is where you and your friends may differ from others…..

But that’s your business, your concern and more importantly your choice, and honestly for a while life seemed too damn good to be true...I guess looking back on it now, I guess that’s because it kinda was!

Sat at the predominantly empty bar alone, more than content by the silence, twirling your straw between your lips, as you scanned back over the shit show that was your schedule for the semester! Getting more of a migraine from that, then shopping or even the fact that you're still hungover and drinking on an empty stomach at half-past 12. Shooting a quick text to your redheaded best friend cursing him out for getting you drunk off your ass on a bottle of Yamazaki 12.

“Can I get anything else for you beautiful? Another drink or maybe an appetizer? We have damn good loaded queso fries if I do say so myself!” Waving the menu in your face playfully, the warm, inviting voice in front of you was the bartender, who’s had his eye on you since you swayed in. Even if you looked like crap for your standards you knew to most you were the farthest thing from it as you swayed into the bar like you owned the place. In your heels, and tiny little black dress, while an airport assistant trolied in your luggage behind you! Ohhh Blair  Waldorf would without a doubt be proud!

“Mmmm…” Lips pursed in a slight pout as you raked over the menu, honestly, you were hungry and they have bomb ass fried pickles…..”Actually, yeah, I’ll get-”

“ 3 tall shots of whatever top-shelf Tequila you have, also add whatever she’s been drinking to my tab, along with an order of fried pickles with extra ranch…please and thank you!” Smoothly sliding his black card, and ID across the marble bartop for review.

Oh.

The look on the bartender’s face was fucking priceless, torn between shitting himself and maybe….nah, just straight shitting himself! Skin flushed, the sense of panic was clear as day,  wondering if he’d overstepped that fine line between customer service and filtration. Considering whoever the person behind you is, clearly knows you well enough to know your food order. A forced bashful smile playing along his lips as he bowed out in acknowledgment, sliding the gentelmen back is ID and whispering out a faint “Yes sir, coming right up…”

The base vibrating through your ears instantly had you readjusting your posture, a strong tingle running down your spine, back arching ever so slightly. A playful smirk playing along your lips as you slowly laced your tongue back around your staw, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You sure you wanna do that? My tastes are pretty expensive..” Tone blatantly flirtatious, yet you still hadn’t bothered to even turn around, that’s when suddenly you hear a deep arrogant chuckle rumbling low in his chest. Only...this sounds a little brighter? And like it’s coming from your left instead of behind you…

“Mmm, I’m sure we can handle it baby….”

You could feel the air shift behind you, it felt warmer, and there was a strong mix of scents flooding through your nose. Leaning back in your seat, pleasantly finding your shoulders, the back of your neck, and your head, cradled against a lean wall of silk. Sighing contently, naturally letting your body melt into his frame, nose running into your face as you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. That’s when a gangle of veiny, porcelain limbs wrapped around your shoulders pulling you even tighter against him, only to find brown, sharp, cat-like eyes staring down at you, though a pair of translucent designer shades. Seemingly a little bit amused at how excited you are to see him. Long dark wavy locks falling messily into his face, a tiny silver hoop dawning his button nose. Tongue playing at the corner of his mouth, letting the tiny silver ball slip between his lips. This angle lets you really appreciate how sharp, yet soft his features were, an oxymoron that honestly makes no damn sense unless you see him in person….jawline sharp enough to cut glass yet he has the cutest cheeks ever when he smiles. It honestly makes no sense whatsoever and he’s one of the many reasons you have trust issues. Well, that and your line of work, considering the number of men you find out are married and still try and sneak around with you.

Then, as if to just make his presence known, there’s another pair of hands making their home along your body, gently squeezing your thigh. Except, he’s polar opposite to the person I just described, the man behind you is your roommate Yoongi, the man who just took a seat to your left, is your other roommate Namjoon! First off, he’s tall as all hell, and an offensively perfect shade of brown, he can’t even go into the burbs without being asked what self-tanner he uses. In which he smugly replies “Genetics” letting them sit there and try and google said company that makes that brand of self-tan. Streams of meticulously placed colored neo-traditional tattoos paint his skin, accompanied by deep dimples, and bleach blonde hair styled into an undercut, sides buzzed into the perfect fade.

“So you gonna get up and give me a real hug or what???”  Placing a kiss in your hair as he pulled back, giving you room to hop out of your seat and right into his arms.

The Full thing is coming soon, this is from summer 2019, I just have to edit, and reread the full thing again! I also wrote the first 3 parts all at once..sooo if your exicted show this some love anddddddddd come let me know!

Love you as always,

Rocki

[husky-boi]

It’s Always Been You ~ Chapter 4

Summary: Husk grew up with the casinos of Vegas, and made his living there. This is the story of how he found the joy in life, and a reminder that sometimes true love transcends worlds

Ships: Huskniss (Husk x Arackniss)

Ao3 Link

...they'll always find a way back together. 

Husk lost track of how long it had been since Angel's family started hanging out at the hotel. In all honesty, he hadn't expected them to be around more than a few days, a week tops. He hadn't expected Charlie to let them stay, considering neither Molly or Arackniss were remotely interested in the concept of redemption. The more energetic of the two spent most of her time running around and introducing herself to everyone that came through the front doors, talking a particular interest in Cherri for who knows what reason. Husk didn't care about that. What he cared about was the short, black spider that insisted on spending every evening taking up a seat at the bar.

Arackniss was rarely talkative, and for the first few weeks, their routine was the same. He would sit down at the bar, Husk would slide him a bottle of something he pointed at (usually red wine, sangria, or just straight vodka), take down at minimum five bottles, and push Husk a stack of cash without asking for the price. It was almost always double the actual cost, but by the time he finished counting it out, Arackniss was gone. And that really pissed him off some days.

His voice sounded so damn familiar, and Husk just couldn't figure out why. It was impossible to try and understand it when the spider didn't talk to anyone besides Angel most of the time. So he had to take some kind of action, that much was obvious.

On this particular night, something had obviously been bothering Niss much more than usual, because he about drank the entire stash of wine, vodka, and a few other types that they had. Husk panicked when he watched the other reach into his pocket as typically to pull out the money, he had to say something now or never.

"Don't bother. S'on the house."

Arackniss immediately froze, glancing up to the bartender and quickly searching his eyes for any sign of a trick. "How much of it was poisoned?"

Husk took a few seconds to process the phrase before scoffing. "None of it, I'd lose my fuckin' job if I did that. Can't I just give a loyal customer a discount without it bein' suspicious?"

Apparently not, because the glare of Niss' golden eyes didn't stop. Not when he took the cash out anyway and put it on the table, not when Husk pushed it back at him, not when he reluctantly took the money back and pocketed it again. Somehow despite the anger, Husk was able to see the pain present in them had faded, if only a small bit. And though it hadn't happened in many years, Husk felt the side of his mouth curl into a smile.

"…thanks." Then Arackniss was gone again, and Husk was once again left alone wondering what the hell happened to his heart for it to start beating this fast.

-----

From that point on, the routine changed slightly. Arackniss was slightly more talkative, and though it was rare he said more than one sentence at a time, it was clear that he wasn't quite as standoffish as before. That's progress, and at least when he was talking Husk could focus on his voice more. Though, by this point, he wasn't sure if he was trying to figure out where he'd heard it from, or if he just liked the sound of Niss' voice. Maybe a bit of both.

"Y'ever had Michter's whiskey?" Husk was given a skeptical look. "I know, it's an American brand, but I swear it's good shit. Kinda expensive, but managed to snag a bottle from the black market demons that sneak it from the surface. So you want some?"

Arackniss was really only fond of brands coming from his home country of Italy, with a preference for those in Rome. Still, it didn't stop him from pushing out a glass for it to be poured. Husk knew him better than that, and knocked it aside, reaching under the counter to pick out a bottle for each of them to drink from directly.

"Best shit I ever had, I swear. Couldn't afford it all that much while I was alive, but the good stuff gets you drink twice as fast as cheap booze. Probably somethin' to do with havin' a good opinion on it swaying your thoughts, I don't know."

By the time Husk finished talking, Niss had already taken the top of the bottle off with his teeth (and damn, that was eye-catching everytime it happened), and he was already about halfway done with it. And still drinking. Fuck, this guy could really hold his liquor.

Only once the bottle was finished did Arackniss give a slight shrug, sitting the bottle down. Another few seconds, and Husk swore he nearly passed out when Niss smiled at him.

"Yeah, not bad… For an' American brand."

Husk couldn't help it; he laughed. He actually laughed, for the first time in who knows how many decades. With his eyes closed and wiping tears from them, he missed the way Niss' fur fluffed up at the sound or how the spider's eyes were on him up until Husk was looking back again.

"S-shit.. Next time show me your favorite, and we'll compare then. How about that?"

"Fair 'nough."

-----

It had to have been at least a few months now, of Husk trying to make enough money during the day to cover the free drinks Arackniss would have that evening, of them talking more each night, topics shifting from the hotel, to its patrons, and finally to each other. Stories of how they were during life, their childhood, their hobbies and jobs. Anything, really, but the subject of tonight's discussion was family. Apparently a sensitive topic for both of them.

"I didn't really have much family growin' up. Started off in the foster system, and no matter how much I ran away from all the fucking pricks, they kept dragging me back. I'm telling you, couldn't wait for the day I turned eighteen and they couldn't hold me there anymore."

Arackniss nodded in response, taking some sips of his bottle of wine. Red, obviously, white wine was an abomination. "Wish I could'a done the same. I mean, siblings weren't too bad, Tony and Molls were just as stuck as I was. But my fathe' was pretty damn shit. For about a dozen reasons."

Silence for a few seconds, it was clear he hadn't planned on elaborating. "How's that, then? What'd he do, kill some fuckers?"

The bottle of red wine was sat down in favor of Arackniss scratching nervously at his wrist. "…yeah, you could say that. Bein' part'a the Italian mafia, s'kinda part of the job." Husk raised an eyebrow at that, but made no move to interrupt otherwise. "Had this big casino we ran as a front for the whole business, real easy to hide how much money you're earnin' when everyone spends thousands a day there. Much as I liked runnin' the bar there or playing the games, woulda been better if all that wasn't the reason for it."

Husk nodded in response, and it seemed for the first time he was actually intently listening to a story. He couldn't really help that, anything with gambling drew his interest. "Actually was kinda raised by casinos, sneaking in the back doors and all that. Made a pretty good fuckin' name in poker and craps for myself back then. That’s pretty much how I made my living for a good for years."

It seemed Niss was still too lost in thought to process those words, so Husk gave a gentle shove to his shoulder. He'd already learned he was allowed to do things like that, they were at least sort of close enough. "Alright, you're overthinkin' shit. Spill."

"…Mafia thing was kinda the shittiest family to be born into. And it ain't just killing people and all that, it's that you're not allowed to trust fuckin' anyone.." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, another gesture that made Husk's heart jump into his throat everytime he saw it. "Already told y'about Harold a while ago, but… There was another guy back then, met 'im at the casino. And fuck, he knew the game, was good at it without explanation. Henry kicked 'im out once he found out we… Talked. Banned 'im from the casino completely. Never got to see 'im again. Sometimes wonder what happened to the fucker…"

Husk took a few seconds to process that story. It sounded really, really fucking familiar. "…wouldn' happen to be the Rose D'Oro Casino in Vegas, would it?"

"Yeah, why'd y'ask?"

Suddenly, that familiar voice made a little bit more sense.

He nearly knocked the wine bottle off the table on accident, scrambling to hold it steady as he reached into his pocket with one hand. With a shaking hand, Husk pulled out a very old and faded black and gold die, with a rose in place of the one, placing inbetween them on the table. Naturally, Niss' eyes widened.

"…I think.. This is yours?"

More silence. Uncomfortable silence as they both just stared at the object on the table. And then Husk felt his bowtie being pulled on and, contrary to the feeling he was about to receive a punch, lips were crashing into his and holy shit fucking Arackniss was kissing him-

Husk swore he blacked out for a few seconds, because when he was coherent enough to know what was going on, the kiss was already over and he was lightheaded with both of them grabbing onto each other's shirts.

"…oh my god, it's fucking you-" It took a monumental amount of effort for Husk to just say that at the moment. He was pretty sure every bit of fur on his body was standing up straight in the air, his ears were pressed flat against his head, and damn his tail was moving happily, wasn't it?

Husk could feel his soul leaving his body as Niss smiled at him, truly and openly smiled. "…it's always been you…"

-----

 Soulmates are connected through time and space.

 Sometimes a distance can grow between the two.

 But no matter how far apart they become…

 …they'll always find a way back together.

 For better or worse

 Through sickness and in health

 Two souls were made for each other

 And when they come together

 All the broken pieces find their other halves

 And they are whole once again

-----

Taglist: @lunar-trash @silver-crowned-king @incorrect-hazbin-quotes @im-not-an-alcaholicokmolly @tophattippin @grape-scapegoat

[procrastination-queenie]

Only You (Non-Idol Jungkook x Reader)

Note: 

Any gifs included are not mine.

This story is based on the movie “Only You” (1994)

Summary: Jungkook is Damon Bradley...Or isn’t he?

          LOVE .... hmmm !  It’s really weird! How it can push us to do great things, stupid they maybe but great! Which is why y/n was now boarding a plane from y/c (your country) to Venice, Italy in a mission to find the love of her life; even though, her wedding is to take place in a few days! Weird, right? And Stupid,too but to her ... it was great.

          Let me take you back to where it all started. 12 years ago from this exact moment, an 11 years old y/n was sitting in the dark and ice cold livingroom with her brother Larry playing Ouija with one question lingering her mind .... Who is my soulmate?.

          “Stop it.” She said hissing at her older brother. “I am not doing anything!” Larry said defending himself from y/n’s indirect accusation that he was moving the wooden piece, with a magnifying glass in the middle of it. “yes, you are!” now angered that Larry is trying to trick her, so they can move on to the next question. “No, I am not.” 

          There was nothing to do at this time of the night, specially with this kind of weather outside as it was raining cats and dogs. Well, of course there is always something to be done in the house, but with the level of excitement the kids needed, it seemed as if there was nothing exciting enough to do, except probably try and mess around with the hidden creatures that loomed this world, asking them questions about the future. Yup sounds like the kind of thing to do on a rainy night like this and unbearable silence looming all over the house; despite, horror movies advising against such doings.

          Suddenly .... a scream of excitement emitted from y/n as the wooden piece moved (or should I say that the spirit which was present did so) hers and her brother’s hand pointing at the answer to her question. “Huh! it’s spelling the name. I have to write it down.” Her brother not really a believer in fairy tails, love stories or any bullshit about the supernatural world, rolled his eyes at his pathetic sister, who is the total opposite of him, wanting to get it over with as she was the one who forced him to play in the first place. 

          D   A   M   O   N     B   R   A   D   L   E   Y   was scattered in a messy handwriting in a small rectangular notebook with pink and purple ponies on it’s cover fitting to the age of its owner. “Damon Bradley”  y/n whispered the name with such delicacy as if it was some sort of spell and all of a sudden the owner of this name would appear in front of her out of nowhere .... just like the fairytales. Of course the weather outside did not intend to pick up and move their house’s curtains to dance an angry and violent dance, giving y/n the feeling that whatever powers controlled this earth were agreeing to the answer as if telling her “Yes, yes my dear. Damon Bradley is your soulmate.” Of course I don’t need to tell you that y/n as a romantic person was taking all of this as some sort of sign, and it was only adding on to her beliefs of the fairy god mothers and the existence of creatures like Tinker Bell and Captain Hook.

          “ But how are you going to know that it’s him? You can pass him by down the street and go on with your life never knowing that it was him.” A glitch sound can be heard inside y/n’s head as her brother tried to Pop her bubble and pause the video playing inside her head. Not really phased by her brother’s “pessimistic attitude” she answered him back confidently “I’ll just know, and you should know it too when you meet yours.” As if born with the instinct of knowing one’s soulmate upon seeing them, y/n’s answer was based on such notion. Needless to say that it was fueled by soulmates bullshit that she has read about from God knows where on a Friday night with her friends over the phone, whom only encouraged the idea among eachother more and more. With nothing else to say upon the matter, her brother, who was trying not to show a cringe on his face for hearing such nonsense, moved on to the next question trying to forget what just happened .....

          A few months later after the Ouija incident. Unlike that night, it was already summer time, school was over and almost every kid in town was out enjoying the summer-y breeze during the night, and it was no different to y/n and Larry who were both out with their friends visiting a fair that was set up by the beginning of the summer.

          SPLASH .... “LARRY!” y/n’s scream could be heard from the top of the Ferris wheel on which her brother along with his friends were laughing so hard at the fact that y/n and her friends were going to be hit by a water balloon but missed. “LARRY STOP IT OR I SWEAR MUM WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS.” (Draco Mulfoy reacted love). Too engrossed in giving Larry a piece of her mind, y/n did not stop shouting until her back hit something ... or someone. Turning around she was faced by a tough looking women, probably in her fifties, tan skin, wide brown eyes, which were highlighted by a strong black eyeliner, and a nose piercing to complete her gipsy look. 

          “NEXT....” The gipsy shouted almost giving y/n a glare for colliding into her. Y/n looked up to see the words FORTUNE TELLER hung up on the mysterious looking tent which, in y/n’s opinion, looked as if it hid a whole different world inside it’s small form. Looking down at the entrance again, the gipsy was nowhere to be found. “I am gonna go.” y/n said turning to her friends. Katie, one of y/n’s friends and also happens to be not a huge believer in fortune telling, rolled her eyes at y/n. “It won’t take long.” y/n said trying to convince Katie. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”  Katie said not believing her but agreeing to wait for her anyway.

          Y/n entered the tent to be welcomed by darkness except the light that came from a crystal ball centered on a table in the middle of the tent. Moving towards the “guiding light” of the crystal ball that she believed would definitely lead her to some kind of big discovery; y/n was brought out of her daze when the gispy spoke with her coarse yet very capturing and mysterious voice. “What do you want to know?”

          Y/n looked up to find the gipsy’s face looming above the crystal ball with her eyes digging a hole in y/n’s face. “ Anything about my future, but I don’t want to know anything bad, if that’s okay!” y/n said sitting back in her chair, trying to distance herself from the lady’s piercing gaze. The fortune teller nodded rolling her eyes with a look of boredom. “Perhaps my love life...” y/n said specifying what she wanted to know about exactly with the name Damon Bradley lingering in the back of her mind.The fortune teller rolled her eyes, of course almost every girl that entered this tent was curious about her love life. Disappointed about the empty minds of the girls nowadays, she huffed raising her hands moving them over the crystal ball and moving her fingers to a weird rhythm while humming. While fishing for an answer, y/n kept looking around the tent with the feeling that it might swallow her into another world any moment now. “I am getting a name.” upon hearing this y/n immediately turned her head towards the gipsy and leaning over the table, more interested than ever. “David... no Daniel... no no no it’s .... “ y/n breath itched as she became more anxious by the second.

          “It’s Damon .... Damon Bradley.” The gipsy said opening her wide eyes and staring at y/n as if looking into her soul with a small smile drawn on the side of her lips. Gasping loudly while abruptly standing up almost knocking up the crystal ball on which the gipsy had her hands on, in fear of it breaking because of the foolish girl. “Damon Bradley ...” uttering his name in the same way she did on that rainy night, she quickly turned to leave so that she can tell Katie when suddenly she was pulled back by the lady who was starting to get angry. “Two dollars for the fortune telling.” y/n quickly fished out two dollars from her bag, giving it to the gipsy and ready to leave when yet she found herself being pulled back again. “Listen, dear ... no matter what, it is up to you; you are the one who decides your own future.” y/n looked at the woman as if she had grown a second pair of eyes on her face; she had only one thing on her mind and that was DAMON fuckin’ BRADLEY.  The gipsy, knowing exactly what’s going on in y/n’s mind, had a poker face with wide eyes rolling because obviously it was futile to try and knock some sense into the girls’ minds these days and tell them that love is not everything! Sighing in surrender the gipsy shooed y/n as if she was some kind of animal that she got frustrated with for not understanding her.

          Now fast forward those 12 years, exactly 10 days before the wedding. Now y/n is a grown up 23 years old woman, independent, has an apartment of her own and with the job of ... guess what? Yup there you’ve guessed it, an English literature teacher; it is no surprise since having such romantic thoughts and beliefs would only lead her to fall love with anything artistic that could fuel these thoughts and beliefs more; therefore, she ended up teaching what she loves the most .... literature.

          Y/n was now sat on the floor in her apartment in her future mother-in-law’s wedding dress with one sentence only ringing in her head over and over again. “Y/n dear, I want you to have this.” opening the huge white box to find inside said dress of which skirt is now pooling around y/n as she buttoned the glove of her left hand “I wore it, my daughter wore, and I want you to wear it,too. You can’t imagine how I felt when Dwayne said you’d wear it.” y/n couldn’t get her mother-in-law’s triumphant smile out of her head, also the fact that her so called fiance forget to mention this one little tini-tiny information that the dress that almost every girl in the entire world dreams of for almost most of their entire lives imagining it, collecting magazines, searching and maybe even writing notes on which fabric they should wear.... would simply be his mother’s dress. Well, that and many other things that she felt herself get infuriated everytime she thought about it; for example, how after he thought that their argument about the dress is over and her uncle was coming towards them to get a picture, he tried to “fix” her hair by putting a strand of her hair behind her ear; even though she argued that it’s supposed to look like that, he ignored her completely and put the strand behind her ear because to him that’s not a proper hairstyle! The audacity of this man! Whom she’s marrying after 10 days, might I add!!!

          “I am here.” Katie her best friend said as she entered y/n’s apartment. Katie is now married to the love of her life which turned out to be y/n’s brother with 2 children. Y/n thought it great to have her best friend as her sister-in-law, but honestly she just doesn’t know what her best friend saw in that moron of a man which she calls her brother. “DON’T LOOK!” y/n screamed, she didn’t want Katie to see her,yet; well not until she finally got up, perfected her pose in that dress to add a dramatic effect. “You can look now.” poor Katie, who almost freaked out when y/n screamed at her, turned around and immediately her eyes were tearing up out of happiness for her best friend. “Wooow” she said covering her nose and mouth. “ Great isn’t it ... I thought it romantic, you know? To wear the dress of the woman who bore your husband.” y/n said walking around in it trying to get the feel of it! “I mean maybe my daughter would wear it someday...or not!” standing in front of the mirror while Katie put on her veil; she felt as if she was trying to convince herself to wear the dress, when deep down she didn’t want to have anything to do with that dress. “If I had this dress, I would love to give it to someone!” Katie disagreed while holding the tail of the veil and followed y/n around as she practiced her “walk down the aisle” and humming it’s entry music that you would her in any wedding.

          Y/n huffed in annoyance as she sat on the nearest chair; Katie knowing exactly what she’s thinking said “Oh, don’t worry. We can fix it.” leaving the veil’s tail and reaching for the box that contained all the knitting and sewing devices. “Life is not like it is in the movies, right?” y/n said as she drank from her coke can.”No, it’s not” Katie replied sternly. “Even though everyone keeps on telling you so from the day you were born, how dreams would become real, the good guy always wins and everyone lives happily ever after... all that crap, then one day you just wake up and realise that your life should be .... different.”  Katie said sniffing trying so hard to hide the tears that would tell y/n immediately that there’s something going on between her and Larry, but of course y/n felt that days before this moment, she just knows Katie like the back of her hand. “Kate what’s wrong?” y/n said leaning forward to put her hand on Katie’s making Katie look at her and reveal her teary eyes. “I don’t know! Y/n there’s something I’ve got to tell you.” Katie said letting her tears fall freely now. “What?” y/n said looking sincerely at her knowing that sometimes her brother can be a handful and hard to deal with. “ Larry and I are....” Katie was interrupted by y/n’s telephone ringing. Y/n sighed still looking at Katie. “I have to answer this, Dwayne is having all his calls forwarded here.” y/n said apologetically. Katie nodded wiping her tears. 

          “Hello!” y/n said rolling the long veil around her hand so not to trip over it. “Dr. Dwayne Johnson please!” the voice said over the phone. “Oh, he’s not here at the moment. He’s doing an emergency surgery right now. can I take a message?”

“uhm, who’s this?” 

“This is y/n his fiancee, who’s this?” by now y/n was tossing and turning around herself searching for her notebook to take the message, making the phone’s wire snake around her restricting her movement.

“Oh, hi. I am his highschool buddy. Congratulations on your wedding!” y/n nodded her head as if the speaker on the other line can see her, now having her notebook and a pen in her hands ready to take the speaker’s message.

“Thanks” she said rolling her eyes at Katie which she instantly understood that someone on the line was congratulating her on the wedding.

“Well, I am gonna be in Europe, so I am gonna miss the wedding.” The speaker said apologetically.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” y/n said fighting the veil that has now eaten her left arm. “Be careful!” Katie whispered trying to get the veil as y/n was not making it easier for herself or Katie by trying to move with the wire, which was almost suffocating her now, towards the table to be able to write down in the notebook properly.

“What’s your name?” she asked as Katie pulled the veil from her head only to be stopped abruptly because the tail was stuck to the dress by the wire like a belt.

“I can hardly hear you, can you spell it.” y/n raised her voice a little as the signal weakened and she wasn’t able to her the speaker’s name.

“D... A... M

“Yes..” writing down the first three letters, she waited to hear the rest.

“.... O... N    B... R... A” y/n hummed for him to go on.

“... D...L.... E...Y”. “Uhaa” y/n sighed triumphantly as she managed to write it down while almost being squeezed by the wire, when suddenly ....”What the...?” she whispered as her brain freaked out alarming her of that name. 

           Gasping loudly, the phone dropped as she tried to collect her thoughts. “What?” Katie asked worriedly.

“Hello, are you okay?”

“Hello!” 

“What’s going on?” Katie was almost going to put a hand on y/n’s shoulder when she suddenly screamed “IT’S HIM!”. Frantically she reached for the phone gasping for air as if she has ran the flight of stairs ten times non-stop. 

“DAMON BRADLEY!” she asked wanting to make sure that she heard him correctly. Katie hearing that name racked through her brain in hopes of finding any importance to why she should remember it.

“Yeah!!!” The poor guy now freaking out from her tone.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” she asked holding unto Katie in case she might pass out any moment now.

“I am at the airport, why?" He asked wondering why his whereabouts might be of any importance to his high school buddy’s fiancee.

          Gasping again loud, both of the girls; y/n for the fact that her soulmate might leave without reaching out to him and missing her chance of maybe getting to know him, and Katie because all of a sudden the name DAMON BRADLEY written in bulbes had lit up, lighting with it all the memories of young y/n and Katie spending hours on their telephones trying to guess whether y/n might end up meeting him for real or not?

“W- W- WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” 

“I am on my way to Venice.” Again, the poor guy freaked out when her heard her moan over the phone as if “Venice” is some sort of a new ice-cream flavour that she had tried and is expressing her delight of tasting it.

“Oooooh I loooovvee Venice.” y/n said in awe not able to control herself over the idea of maybe running away with him and where to? ... To Venice. What a terrific idea, again crazy but terrific!

Not really knowing how to answer back. Mr. Damon Bradley had said that he’s gotta run now and maybe they’ll talk about it when they all get together.

“But wait I....” 

too late now since Damon Bradley hung up the phone, proceeding on his way to the plan that would take him to Venice.

P.s : I am so sorry Jungkook did not appear in this chapter, but I promise he will appear ..... eventually!😂💖

But please, don’t hesitate to tell me your opinion.🌻✨