#if we ever meet gin again i hope he’ll be living his best life

[deadite-central]

I dreaded reading Baratie cuz of Don Krieg as I hate the man and out of all one piece characters (including people objectively worse than him) he’s my least favorite

BUT!!! Fortunately the fight with him didn’t feel as much dragged out as it did in the anime so let’s focus on the good things cause if I look at Krieg again I’m gonna scream

The relationship between Zeff and Sanji is so sweet and even more soul crushing knowing about Sanji’s life before he met him

Sanji has a clear goal of NOT DYING after everything he went through, and I’m not saying Oda planned his entire backstory so far ahead but it all does fall neatly into shape

It also warms my heart that Zeff and Sanji get to have this father/son bond, while they insult each other, they would sacrifice their lives for each other, and on Zeff’s part he wants Sanji to follow his dream more than anything

I very much enjoyed Gin’s character as well, probably the only good thing to come out of Don Krieg’s subplot, the fact Sanji doesn’t hesitate to help him, or the rest of Krieg’s pirates despite knowing what they might do

Sanji is the first time Gin has been shown selflessness, and despite how little the two interacted that feeling on Gin’s part and Sanji’s kindness is what makes them such an interesting duo this arc. Gin is unable to kill Sanji, even if he sees it as the only mercy he could give him, but he’s also so messed up from working as Krieg’s right hand man he has no idea how to repay Sanji’s selflessness so when Krieg releases the poisonous gas all that he’s able to do is FORCE the mask onto Sanji

They’re a really good duo and ngl I wouldn’t be mad at all if Gin came back in the final saga and had at least one conversation with Sanji

ALSOO hmmmmmm I wonder is Sanji’s need for self-sacrifice will ever come back up again

[clementinesjourney]

I'll even be a clown.. cause I just wanna amuse ya...

AN: Still stuck on the series's storyline.. And i freaking love Mäneskin.. sooooo i thought i'll bring them into my little universe as well while still keeping our Buck around. Tell me if you like this kind of thing or not. <3

Warnings: none

Words: 1,5 K

Pairing: Bucky x singer!reader

Summary: Reader is a singer who has a great friendship with the band Mäneskin, who are coming to New York for a concert, and would love to have her sing with them on stage. Thats when Bucky realizes why was the girl at the bar so familiar..

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Wanda liked Mäneskin ever since she saw them in Italy. They were young, sexy, fun and talented as hell. So when she saw the ads of them coming to NY she had to get tickets for the whole gang. Bucky wasn't so happy, but what could he do. He preferred the 40's music still, but might as well give it a go, maybe he will enjoy it.

Soon enough the day of the concert came, the others were all over the place, Bucky was quietly sitting at the bar, playing with his whiskey, swirling it around in the glass.

-Do you usually just play with your drinks, all lonely in bars? - a cheerful voice asked next to him. He looked it's owner up and down. A pair of black Dr. Martens, black stockings, highwaisted black leather shorts, black mesh top, with a lacy burgundy bra underneath, golden chains in her neck, red, naturally wavy hair, a smile to die for, and damn those vibrant green eyes.

-Staring at strangers a little to long as well, i see - you said chuckling, signalling the bartender that you wanna order. - i'll have a gin-soda with lime and one of whatever he's drinking.

He was still just staring at you.

-Thank you it's reallly flattering, but you can close your mouth now. Don't be a creep.. - you winked. - Cheers. - You clinked your glass to his, sipping into it.

- i-im sorry.. - he said absolutely stunned how open you were.

- Hi sorry, i'm sober. - you chuckled, sipping more of your drink, enjoying the taste.

-You're crazy. - he said chuckling, running a hand through his hair.

- Oh shut up everybody is.. C'mon the show's starting. - you said, grabbing his dogtags, making him follow you to the middle of the crowd, dancing around to the beat.

The first few songs went in a blur, he danced with you to all of them. From the corner Wanda and Sam kept an eye on you two.

-He doesn't have a clue who he's dancing with does he? - shouted Wanda into Sam's ear over the music.

-Even i don't have a clue. Why?

Just wait and see. - shouted Wanda while giggling, sipping her wine.

The song ended, when the singer started to scan the crowds with the other musicians while talking.

-We have a dear old friend in the crowd, and we thought we couldn't miss this opportunity to sing and party with her again. The next song is one i always tried to seduce her with, wonder why never did it work.. he said chuckling obviously making a joke, making the women in the front rows melt. - please welcome one of our dearest friend and most amazing singer in NY city with the same warmth.. (Y/N).. come on in here you old hag.. - he said while clapping for you.

Without a word you left Bucky there right in the middle. He couldn't process what was happening.

You hopped on the stage, waving at the people, quickly hugging and kissing the band. You were then facing the crowd, smirking at Bucky, you gave him a wink as the singer came up right into your face from the side as he started to sing.

I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master I wanna make your heart beat Run like rollercoasters I wanna be a good boy I wanna be a gangster 'Cause you can be the beauty And I could be the monster I love you since this morning Not just for aesthetic I wanna touch your body So fucking electric I know you scared of me You said that I'm too eccentric I'm crying all my tears And that's fucking pathetic.

You were now facing him, taking over dancing around him, with him. You were glowing, you were having the time of your life being able to sing with your friends again.

I wanna make you hungry Then I wanna feed ya I wanna paint your face Like you're my Mona Lisa I wanna be a champion I wanna be a loser I'll even be a clown Cause I just wanna amuse ya I wanna be your sex toy I wanna be your teacher I wanna be your sinner I wanna be a preacher I wanna make you love me Then I wanna leave ya 'Cause baby I'm your David And you're my Goliath.

You were putting on a show, just as you used to back when you lived in Italy. When you nearly kissed, Bucky felt a pang in his chest. He just met you yet you had him around your finger from the first minute. In a spare moment you saw how his jaw clenched at how close Adamo was to you. Smirking, you know the handsome stranger will certainly take you home now.

The concert finished, and Bucky found himself drinking at the bar alone again, hoping you'd find him again somehow. And that is what you did.

-(y/n) by the way. - You said holding your hand for him to shake, with the biggest smile on your face.

-Bucky. - He took it, and his hand lingered on yours a little longer. - Can i buy you a drink?

- You can. - you said with a smirk. He was handsome you thought. You wouldn't mind having a bit of fun with him tonight.

The next hour you two were talking, getting to know eachother. It was time that the place closes, so you grabbed your leather jacket and went out.

-Do you wanna talk a bit more? I-i'm sorry if it sound lame. i'm kinda rusted in this department... But i would really like to spend some more time with you.. - He said while running a hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his head. He was nervous and you found it unbearably cute.

-It depends... do you have anything to drink while we're doing the ' talking'? - you tried to hint on having a bit more fun than talking. It wasn't that you were sleeping with every man you could, but you were set on the idea that whatever a man can do without shame so can women. You loved to live freely, doing whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. And if it was a god-like handsome man you met at a concert, then hell so be it.

-I'm sure i can find something.. - He said with a smile. You saw how he calmed knowing that you'll go with him. It was cute that he worried you might not. He tried to mask it with that flirty-masculinity that you loved, but deep down you both know you had the reins.

On the way to his apartment you were laughing at some old stories he told you about his past. Dates that go wrong, nights he helped old friends to get home, nights they helped him. There was something about you that made him feel like a little boy trying to get his first date, yet let him be himself at the same time. It confused him, but in a good way. You didn't even realize you were holding hands the most of the way. When you arrived he took his keys out and opened the door, letting you enter before him.

You hopped down on the couch waiting for him to bring you a drink. It was whiskey, which had you make funny faces as it was stronger than what you used to usually drink. Youeyed up his record collection. You always adored the way vinyl made the music sound. It gave you a homey feeling. It was mostly records from the 40-50's, but what stood out is an album of Quentin Tarantino songs. You took it out and put it on while he watched you from the couch, smiling, fascinated by how comfortable you seemed in his place, as if you were living here. His smile grew even bigger when you started to dance around for one of your all time favourite songs that was in a Tarantino movie. Stuck in the middle with you by Stealers Wheel. You jumped around, took his hand, making him stand up and dance with you. You felt like freedom..

When the next song came ( Girl, you'll be a woman soon by Urge overkill) he put his hands on your waist, bringing you closer, you put your hands in his neck, looking deep into his mesmerizing blue eyes and slowdanced. You were smiling at eachother, then he leaned in to kiss you. It was the best damn kiss you've ever had. You wanted to have more, which ended in a heavy makeout session on his couch, him only wearing his jeans now as you admired his well built chest and over all just him... You had to admit he's pretty god-like. One thing led to another and the next morning you found yourself waking up in the handsome strangers bed when the sun just came up.It was around 5 am. His hands around you, legs tangled. Both of you stark naked. You smiled at him, gave him one last peck. By the time he woke up, his bed only had the remains of you. A lingering scent of liqour and peaches, and a note with burgundy kiss mark on it. You must've kissed the paper goodbye instead of him he thought with a sad smile. He would've loved to wake up to the sight of you, to memorize your face, your body.

The note only said: two weeks from now, where the sun emerges from the sea. 5 am.

He smiled at this little note. It's a date he murmured. He went out to make coffee, after all he'll have to deal with his friends asking all kinds of questions. He was sure they won't miss the content look on his face. He had an amazing night, topped it off with amazing sex, and maybe two weeks from now he'll get to meet you again..

[secretkeeper13]

Flirt- bonus chapter

I was overwhelmed by the positive response to this story! Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read and leave such lovely comments.  I truly appreciate it! 

As soon as I finished writing this fic, I wanted to write Harry’s reaction to hearing the story of poor Criag’s misadventures in trying to flirt with Ginny.  I hope you enjoy this bit of (very dialogue heavy) fluff as much as I enjoyed writing it.  Bonus chapter also on Ao3! 

He flopped onto the bed, completely exhausted from the day. Well, really, from James, who was now (thankfully) sleeping in his cot after a mildly disastrous bath time in which he’d managed to get soapy water all over Harry’s shirt, trousers, and the entire bathroom floor, causing Harry to slip in his haste to grab his wand to do a drying charm. And then bedtime, when James climbed out of his cot three times before finally, blissfully falling asleep.  

In the stillness, he heard the door to the study close softly, the creak of the stairs, and footsteps approaching the doorway of their bedroom. He looked up as she crossed the room and sat on the other side of their bed.

“James wear you out today?” she asked, with a knowing smile.

“Yes, I’m exhausted,” he groaned. “I feel like I’ve been through one of Oliver Wood’s training sessions. I don’t know how you do it, honestly.”

She grinned. “You chase dark wizards for a living, but five hours alone with our toddler did you in?”

He smiled sheepishly. “It isn’t like when he was a baby, and you could turn your back for a second to do something and he’d still be in the same place. He’s so bloody fast now. I told you about the incident with the toilet. Not to mention the climbing- I pulled him off the third shelf in the scullery not a half hour after you left!”

She laughed. “He probably just wanted a biscuit. Caught him at it last week, found him on the second shelf holding the biscuit tin. I moved it up higher, but I guess that didn’t work.”

Harry shook his head. “How do you even use the loo? I was afraid to leave him alone for a second.”

She laughed again. “I haven’t used the loo alone during the day for the past couple weeks.”

“He’s not a baby anymore, really,” he said wistfully, thinking of their once tiny newborn, who was now saying words, toddling about, and causing all sorts of mischief.

“No, he isn’t.”

Harry sighed. “Did you get your article finished?”

“Yes, all done and sent to my editor in time for tomorrow’s paper. It practically wrote itself thanks to the Magpie’s seeker. Not every day someone catches the snitch in under a half hour in his first game.”  

“I can’t wait to read it.”

She smiled at him.  “Thanks for bringing James up to Hogsmeade after. I’m glad we got to see Neville.”

“Me too,” he said, and then he grinned up at her. “Speaking of, now do I get to hear the story of how a bloke fresh out of Hogwarts ended up buying you a drink?”

She laughed. “I knew you’d ask again.”

He’d asked as soon as they’d walked away from the bar, of course, his curiosity getting the better of him, as always.  But she’d simply raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Later” in response to his murmured, “What was that?”

“Well?”

“Hmmm, you’re very interested in this story,” she teased, running her hand lightly down his chest and sliding closer to him on the bed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous of my new friend Craig.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Hardly. The poor boy looked like he wanted to die. I just want to know what you did to him.”

“And why do you think I’m responsible?” she said feigning innocence, giving him that wide-eyed, playful look that still made his heart beat faster.

“Well, I’d like to think I know you pretty well after nearly a decade of being with you,” he replied dryly.

She laughed. “Alright. Well, if you must know, I was at the bar, minding my own, when my new friend came up and introduced himself to me,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“That’s bold.” He looked at her shrewdly. “And did you introduce yourself to him?”

She smirked. “I told him it was a pleasure to meet him.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I knew it.”

“What, I should’ve said, ‘Hello Craig, I’m Ginny Potter; yes, the one married to Harry Potter. Oh, he’ll be here momentarily. Yes, please make a scene and ask for a photo so the whole pub is in a frenzy by the time he arrives with our son’?”

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” he said, chuckling harder.

“Anyhow, it was clear he didn’t recognize me, so I decided to just... let it play out. Be a good sport, but not encourage him too much. And if I got a little amusement from it along the way, well, that was just a bonus.”

“How were you sure he didn’t recognize you?” he said, thinking darkly of all the unwelcome advances he’d fielded over the years, despite the entire wizarding world’s knowledge of he and Ginny’s relationship.

She snorted. “Harry, he asked me, very earnestly, if I followed Quidditch, and then followed that up by asking which team I supported.”

He cringed, but laughed. “Merlin. Poor bloke.”

 “That’s not even the best part.”

“No?”

“Oh no,” she said, her tone becoming increasingly dramatic (a trait which he found adorable and endearing). “The best part was when he unknowingly was slagging off Percy to me.”

“Come again?” Harry spluttered.

“I’d love to later, but I’d like to finish my story now, thank you.”

“Gin.” He was laughing so hard his shoulders were shaking. “You know, one day, that joke won’t be funny anymore.”

“And yet, you’re still laughing.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Percy?”

“Right, so after I mentioned that I’d recently had a career change, he told me all about his friend, who apparently took a job right out of Hogwarts in the Ministry in the Transportation Department. And his boss, the Deputy Head was, and I quote, ‘a real stickler,’ who was impossible to work for so much so that he changed jobs.”

He laughed in earnest. “And what did you say?”

“I told him I knew the type.”

Harry roared with laughter. “How did you keep a straight face?” he gasped.

“With great difficulty. So, then the barmaid showed up, and he offered to buy me a drink. I tried to politely decline, but he insisted, and the barmaid was getting annoyed, so I just went with it. I started to let him down gently after that, but then you showed up with James before I could tell him.”

“Poor Craig,” he said, shaking his head, still chuckling.

“He was very sweet.”

“I’m glad you bought him a round, the kid deserved it after that.”

“Oh, you’re team Craig, are you?”

He laughed. “Yes. I hope he finds a girl his own age though, instead of chatting up my wife.”

She took his hand and then paused for a moment, playing with their intertwined fingers. She looked down at him through her lashes.

“You know,” she said, her tone softer and more thoughtful. “It was refreshing, honestly. I don’t think someone who didn’t already know who I was has approached me in years. And it was flattering. I mean, he thought I was his age.”

Harry swallowed. He hated that being with him made her life harder. He hated that she’d had to give up any semblance of ever having a private life or anonymity by marrying him. As if she knew what he was thinking (and she probably did, he thought), she reached down and gently stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes at her touch, and when he opened them again, he spoke.

“I’m not sure why you’re surprised a bloke would want to chat you up. You’re beautiful, Gin, in more ways than one.”

She leaned down and gave him a swift kiss, then sat back up, and smiled at him, still holding his hand.

“It made my day, really. To feel like I’ve got it back after being pregnant and having James.”

“You can’t get back something you never lost.”

She beamed at him and shook her head. “Harry Potter. That was a line.”

“Well, I’ve got to keep up with Craig.”

She laughed, then leaned down to kiss him again. He deepened the kiss, pulling her on top of him and running his hands through her long, silky hair.

After a moment, she pulled back and reached for the hem of her shirt. “You sure you aren’t too tired for this?” she teased.

“I may not be eighteen anymore like your new friend, but I’ll manage, trust me,” he said, looking up at her, his eyes dark.

“Well, I’m glad you aren’t eighteen anymore,” she said as she pulled her shirt over her head and he groaned appreciatively. “Because this will last a lot longer then.”

He laughed, and that was the last either of them thought of Craig that evening.

[edenmemes]

peaky blinders sentence starters

❝ there’s no rest for me in this world. perhaps in the next. ❞  ❝ if i shall die, you shall die. ❞ ❝ did you know that madness sets you free? otherwise we’re all just peasants obeying the law. ❞ ❝ despite the bad blood, i’ll have none of it on my carpet. ❞ ❝ everyone fucking needs me. ❞  ❝ forbidding is forbidden to us. we can do anything. nothing can stop us. ❞ ❝ you know, it’s a pity. i was looking forward to killing you. you’re at the back of a long queue. ❞ ❝ the truth? you’re unlike any person i’ve ever met. ❞ ❝ i owe you a little something, don’t i? i do. ❞ ❝ the past is none of my concern. the future is none of my concern either. ❞ ❝ but there is a part of me that is unfamiliar to myself...and i keep finding myself there. ❞  ❝ i learnt long ago to hate my enemies, but i’ve never loved one before. ❞ ❝ who’s going to stop us, eh? nobody. ❞  ❝ don’t point the fucking weapon at me. ❞ ❝ why do you play games with people? ❞ ❝ i know your weaknesses. it’s freedom. madness. killing. ❞ ❝ i get really quiet when my mind is too loud. ❞ ❝ i’ve heard very bad, bad, bad things about you. ❞ ❝ am i laughing? ❞ ❝ you’re behaving like a fucking child. this is an adult’s world. ❞ ❝ i have found them. the person i can’t defeat. ❞ ❝ i’ll rekindle all the dreams you took a lifetime to destroy. ❞ ❝ it’s just myself talking to myself about myself.  ❞ ❝ those who fight by the sword, die by the sword. ❞ ❝ this is who i am! and this is all i can give you, for what you’ve given me. ❞  ❝ and i got close. i nearly got fucking everything. ❞  ❝ i’m not a fucking child. ❞ ❝ maybe it’s time you forgot about them. ❞ ❝ i’m glad i didn’t shoot you. it would’ve been a kindness. ❞ ❝ i will remember everything and forget nothing. ❞ ❝ but lately i’ve had a feeling. a feeling i can’t put into words. ❞ ❝ looking back, i have no regrets. ❞ ❝ you and i are opposites...but also just the same. like an image in the mirror. ❞ ❝ may you be in heaven a full half hour before the devil knows you’re dead. ❞ ❝ i warn you, i’ll break your heart. ❞  ❝ i’m guessing that all the bad ideas around here, they’re you. ❞ ❝ look at yourself. take a long, hard, fucking look at yourself. ❞ ❝ i try not to fight. i try not to react.  ❞ ❝ my god. some devil gets into you, doesn’t it? ❞ ❝ it’s in the past. the past doesn’t concern me. ❞ ❝ don’t sit there in my chair and tell me i’m losing my war. ❞ ❝ don’t let two people teach you the same lesson. ❞ ❝ it’d be hard for you to walk anywhere with a bullet in each knee. ❞ ❝ who broke the mirror? that’s seven years of bad luck. ❞ ❝ it’s not a good idea to look at me the wrong way. ❞ ❝ i know that you want me to say that i’ll change. ❞ ❝ those bastards. those bastards...are worse than us. ❞  ❝ you have to listen to the voices you hear. ❞  ❝ intelligence is a very valuable thing, isn’t it? and usually it comes far too fucking late. ❞ ❝ i don’t have a fucking side. ❞ ❝ truth is, you’re going to be fucking dead soon. and then your starlings - they'll peck out your ___ eyes. ❞ ❝ all this time, our love still remains. ❞ ❝ you’ve got nothing to prove. you have got nothing to prove, and you’ve got a precious young life. ❞ ❝ look down on earth and see the seeds you have sown. ❞ ❝ yeah, there are rules for a reason. quite simply they have to be obeyed. ❞ ❝ i have responsibilities here, people i need to protect, and people who i love. ❞  ❝ if i had an important decision to make, i used to flip a coin; perhaps i will do it again. ❞  ❝ i just put a bullet in his head. ❞ ❝ from now on, you must do everything you want to do. ❞ ❝ i need you to be alright. i need you. ❞ ❝ you’ve got five minutes. ❞  ❝ i don’t think they trust me. ❞ ❝ what do i have to do to make people fucking listen to me? ❞ ❝ i found you. and you’ve found me. we’ll help each other. ❞  ❝ if you’re not gone from this city by tomorrow...i’ll kill you myself. ❞  ❝ i will never forgive you or accept you. ❞ ❝ feel sorry for me. it’s fine. ❞  ❝ i hear you want to kill me. ❞ ❝ you’ve got smart eyes, but you’re young, so you think that what we do is all right. it’s not all right. ❞ ❝ when we succeed, even the king will not be above us. ❞ ❝ you betrayed me. don’t be here when i come back. ❞ ❝ kill and kill...the only way to make people listen. ❞ ❝ the only thing that interests me is the truth. ❞ ❝ i know who you are. you’re a bit of a failure, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ listen, sweetie. ❞ ❝ look, i just wanted to say that you’re welcome to come home. ❞ ❝ who were you talking to? ❞ ❝ there is not a single day i spent without thinking of you. ❞ ❝ the end of a rope has been your destiny since the day you were born. ❞ ❝ i am emotional, i just don’t know what fucking emotion it is. ❞ ❝ those i can’t charm i can kill with my own hands. ❞ ❝ how soon did you know that i was not dead? ❞ ❝ walk like a king. or like you don’t give a fuck who’s the king. ❞ ❝ my fury is a thing to behold. ❞ ❝ men are less good at keeping secrets out of their eyes. ❞ ❝ someone’s responsible for all this fucking mess. ❞  ❝ let it hurt then let it go. ❞  ❝ it’s war you want, it’s war you shall have. ❞ ❝ you can change what you do, but you can’t change what you want. ❞ ❝ some nights it was you who stopped my heart from breaking. no-one else. ❞  ❝ when you’re dead, you’re finally free. ❞ ❝ i’ve told you to keep the doors locked. i could’ve been anyone. ❞ ❝ violent men are the easiest to deal with. ❞ ❝ who the fuck are you? ❞  ❝ the war is done. shut the door on it. shut the door on it like i did. ❞ ❝ he’ll wake up. granted he won’t have any teeth left but he will be a wiser man for it. ❞ ❝ did you know that madness sets you free? ❞ ❝ lies travel faster than the truth. ❞  ❝ you mother said: ‘it’s their cleverness that will kill them’. ❞ ❝ and i don’t care because i’m already dead. ❞ ❝ who wants to be in heaven when you can be sending men to hell? ❞  ❝ nobody works with me. people work for me. ❞ ❝ i never got used to seeing horses die. ❞ ❝ it doesn’t seem to change you. nothing seems to change you. ❞ ❝ that’s funny, don’t you think? a war about peace. ❞  ❝ you have your mother’s common sense but your father’s devilment. i see them fighting. let your mother win. ❞ ❝ today i killed three men. ❞ ❝ brave is going where no man has gone before. ❞ ❝ today it will be me dead. or you. ❞  ❝ do you think your repentance will mean you are forgiven of your sins? ❞  ❝ i will pour you some gin...distilled for the eradication of seemingly incurable sadness. ❞ ❝ my biggest problem? i notice everything. ❞  ❝ how many sons have you cut, killed, murdered? ❞ ❝ you crossed the line. ❞ ❝ you won’t tell anyone my secret? ❞ ❝ i heard you dress well. but now i see, not as well as me. ❞  ❝ fuck it. i’m not in the mood today. ❞ ❝ how far can we go with this beautiful dream? ❞  ❝ i’m not much good. you’ll find that out soon yourself. ❞ ❝ no, i’m not god. not yet. ❞  ❝ i think so that you don’t have to. ❞ ❝ we’re close. always within punching distance. ❞ ❝ i need you to understand that your best is not good enough. ❞ ❝ sorry about all that mud. and all that fucking blood. ❞ ❝ i was just explaining to everyone that, well, we’re fucked. ❞ ❝ when i do sleep, i dream. and in my dream someone wants my crown. ❞ ❝ the man we’re about to meet is the devil. ❞ ❝ there’s god. and then there’s us. ❞ ❝ i want you to acknowledge that your anger is un-fucking-justified! ❞ ❝ i am the first one who understands you. ❞ ❝ i won’t be on my own. i’m never on my own. ❞ ❝ i’m no gentleman. ❞ ❝ for those who make the rules, there are no rules. ❞ ❝ they’re not going to hang you. you’re going to hang yourself. ❞ ❝ last thing i want is silence. ❞ ❝ it’s not pleasant to look at and be around. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ i am now able to just rise above those kinds of insults. ❞ ❝ today is for forgiveness. ❞ ❝ we don’t get to decide who lives and who dies. ❞ ❝ you don’t get what you deserve. you get what you take. ❞ ❝ i’ve dealt death. now death has dealt with me. ❞ ❝ so you shook hands with the devil? ❞ ❝ i am my own revolution. ❞ ❝ it’s in our blood. we live somewhere between life and death. ❞ ❝ i promised someone i would change the world. ❞ ❝ i will continue until i find a man i can’t defeat. ❞ ❝ sometimes death is a kindness. ❞  ❝ i may choose to stay here and just starve to death and choke on sapphires. ❞ ❝ i bet hundred to one...that you’re fucking lying. ❞ ❝ they are always hopeful, therefore they’re always wrong. ❞  ❝ oh, i do bad things. but you already know that. ❞ ❝ i didn’t choose this life. it chose me. ❞ ❝ you fucking stand there...you. judging me?! ❞ ❝ these hands belong to the devil. ❞ ❝ people thinking i’m going to fall, they start behaving in a different way around you. they start to circle. ❞ ❝ i wanted you to stay. and normally i get my own way. ❞ ❝ i don’t see the same thing in your eyes. you should get out. ❞ ❝ i came here not to make enemies. ❞ ❝ i love you and i promise i will keep us safe. ❞  ❝ you stay away from me, i’ve had it. ❞ ❝ you don’t understand the wicked way of our world. ❞      ❝ they say life is too short to hold grudges. i think life is too short to be letting people get away with the same shit. ❞ ❝ if only i could what? ‘if only you could change’. go on, say it. ❞ ❝ the thing is...i love you, not them. ❞ ❝ will you help me? with everything. the whole fucking thing. fucking life. ❞ ❝ why? because we fucking can, and if we can, we do. ❞ ❝ you remember that god spared you. but what did you do with the extra time that he gave you? ❞ ❝ if you take the king’s money, the king expects you to kill. ❞ ❝ do i look like someone who wants an easy life? ❞ ❝ and you...you’ve captured my curiosity. ❞ ❝ in all the world, of all the people, you alone i know i can trust. ❞ ❝ i know you like to be asked properly. can i have this dance? ❞ ❝ i rarely answer questions, is what i do. ❞ ❝ shut your eyes. go on, shut your eyes. now, come with me. this way. ❞ ❝ you want everything to be different. the whole world. ❞ ❝ there’s only one thing that can blind someone as smart as you. love. ❞ ❝ can you let me in sometimes? into your head. ❞ ❝ i’m not accustomed to being spoken to like that. ❞ ❝ and what fucking line am i supposed to have crossed? ❞ ❝ i know what i know, you know. if you don't know, then you don't fucking know, do you? ❞ ❝ drink the fucking wine and smile. that’s what i’m doing. ❞  ❝ you once said to me that people like us can never be loved. ❞  ❝ before the day is over, your heart will be broken. ❞ ❝ what do you think i am, hm? you think i’m a fucking idiot. ❞ ❝ we can walk away from all this. it’s so easy. ❞ ❝ to apply pressure on a person for this line of work you have to know their weaknesses and i know your weaknesses intimately. ❞ ❝ rule one: don’t punch above your weight. ❞ ❝ if i come for you, i will wear high heels so you can hear my approach on the cobblestones, and have time to repent. ❞  ❝ my brother and i are the same person. ❞ 

[aiorevelations]

A Number, Not a Name part 11!

Everyone’s on a collision course and we’re getting closer and closer to the climax. 🙈😶😁Hopefully you all can keep up with what’s going on. We know what happens and even we’re finding ourselves 😱 by these twists and turns. 🤪😆 Hope you enjoy! 💓

Chapter 11: Bound to the Dark

A week earlier:

Milena walked quickly on the cobbled pavement, her eyes scanning every direction to make note of the people gathered in the alleyway. Her right hand was placed directly over her gun, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice. Around her tall dark buildings cast their darkened shadows on the ground, illuminated by the nearly full moon that hung in the night sky.

Milena stopped outside of an old bar, her eyes focusing on the sign fastened above the door. Almost all of the letters had gone out, leaving only the “k” and “o” of “Zakázáno” illuminated. Her father had once told her the meaning of the word. If she recalled correctly “Zakázáno” meant “Forbidden” in Czech yet the passage of time had clouded her memory. She walked into the establishment and up to the wooden bar at the back of the room. The bartender placed the glass she was drying behind the counter and turned her attention to Milena.

“Hello. What can I get you? We just got a new shipment of rum in, all the way from Cuba. Though of course, it’ll cost you extra.” The woman grabbed another wet glass and started drying it off.

“No thanks. I’m not here for a drink. I was hoping to see Emin. Is he around?”

“Yeah, he’s around. But he’s busy going over the books.”

“It’s rather urgent that I see him. I have some important business to discuss.”

The woman placed the glass she was holding on the counter and sighed. “Fine. I’ll take you to see him. But he better not fire me for this.” She walked from behind the counter and motioned for Milena to follow her. “This way.”

The two of them walked through a swing door marked “Employees Only” and down a winding hall. At the end of the hallway was a door marked “Private” which Dalita knocked on.

A few seconds passed and an answer came through the door “Yes?”

Dalita opened the door. “Sorry to interrupt Emin. But this woman here said she had some urgent business with you.”

Emin started collecting and stacking the papers and bills spread across his desk. “Fine. Send her in.”

She turned back toward Milena “He’ll see you.”

Milena entered the office. Dalita closed the wood door behind her and started making her way back to the bar. Milena sat down in the seat across from Emin. He folded his hands together on the desk. “Judging by how anxious you were to see me I assume you’re here for my ‘other’ services.”

Milena slightly smirked. “You could say that.”

…..

Dalita reached the bar counter and picked up the still-wet glass she had left there minutes earlier. She looked up as she heard the creaky door to the bar open and saw a familiar face walk towards her. The blond-haired woman had become one of her most regular customers as she had frequented the bar many nights over the last few months. From the consuming look of pain that from time to time shone in her eyes, Dalita suspected the woman had suffered a significant amount of suffering in her life, pain which she tried as much as possible to drown out and forget.

“The usual?” Dalita asked as the woman reached the counter.

“Yeah,” she softly replied.

Dalita poured the woman a shot of vodka and pushed the glass across the counter to her. The woman picked the glass up and quickly downed its contents. The woman placed the glass back down on the counter and reached into her pocket to grab some cash. She placed the money down on the bar and walked silently away from the counter. Dalita’s gaze followed the woman for a few moments before she turned her attention to the other customers making their way to the bar.

The blond-haired woman walked to the right side of the bar and then quickly glanced around the room to make sure no one was watching her. She went through the swing doors and quietly stepped closer and closer to Emin’s office. She came to the wooden office door and could make out the voices coming from behind it. She reached into her pocket, careful not to make a sound, and pulled out a listening device. She as quietly as possible knelt down to the floor and slid the device under the door. She stood up and made her way back down the hall, Milena and Emin’s words clearly transmitting in her earpiece.

…..

Emin sat back in his leather chair and wryly chucked, taken aback by Milena’s request. “Look, I'm in the business of making new deals. Setting up deals. Enforcing deals. Do you see a pattern here? I stay in my lane, my ‘clients’ stay in theirs. And so far it’s been working out pretty well for me.” He leaned closer to Milena. “That last thing I’m doing is giving out some info on one of my biggest customers.” Emin took a cigar and lighter out from one of his desk drawers. He lit the cigar, placed it in his mouth, and tossed the lighter back in the drawer. The gentleman took a few puffs and continued speaking. “Now if we’re talking gin or an M14 that I can always provide.”

Milena remained silent and stared directly at Emin. She reached into her pocket and threw a large brown envelope on the desk. Emin placed his cigar down on an ashtray and reached forward and dragged the envelope closer to himself. He eyed it almost suspiciously and then opened it.

“This amount should be sufficient to change your tune,” Milena remarked.

Emin scanned the money and smirked. “I’m flattered. I thought only high-ranking officials could be bribed with such an amount.”

“Consider it a very generous contribution to your business.”

He began sliding the envelope back towards Milena “One which I’ll have to refuse.”

“Really?” she asked, a hint of anger in her voice.

“Yes. Now unless there’s anything else. I really am busy here” he firmly replied.

Milena picked up the envelope and shook her head slightly as she stared down at it in her hand. She chuckled and looked up at Emin, her eyes deathly cold. “If I were in your shoes I wouldn’t even consider saying no.” She stood from her seat. “It would be a shame for something to happen to that lovely little girl of yours. Eva right?”

Emin quickly shot up from his seat. Milena drew her gun and pointed it at his chest.“Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to sit back in that chair and behave like a good little boy. Got it?” she snapped.

“You really expect me to believe this charade. To just let you just come in here and make these baseless threats.”

“You’d better be careful what you say next. You see when it comes to such matters like this I’m much more level-headed than my partner. One more insult from you and who knows what he’d do. Also as for this whole threat being ‘baseless,’ I think Eva may have something to say about that.”

Emin’s eyes focused on Milena’s left hand as she took her phone from her pocket and turned up its volume. From the speaker came the voice of a little girl, crying. “Where’s my Daddy? I want my Daddy.” Emin felt the blood drain from his face as heard the sound of his little girl fill the room.

Another voice, that of an older man, came through the speaker “Now sit still and be good. You’re Daddy’s coming soon I’m sure.” Emin reluctantly sat back in his chair, glaring at Milena. All he wanted was to be able to wipe that smirk off her face, but as long as his daughter’s life hung in the balance that wasn’t an option.

Melina turned off the phone and placed it back in her pocket. “Now what deal did Tarek Matthins make with you?” She kept the gun steadily aimed at Emin.

Emin sighed. “Matthins arranged for Dalmar to meet with two renowned arms dealers next Thursday. Edward Delucas and Melinda Tylerson. They’re two of the best in business. It was clear Matthins and I weren’t meant to say much but from what he said I got the impression that the proposed deal is rather large. One of the largest I’ve ever arranged in fact. That— that’s all I have.” Emin hoped against hope that the woman standing in front of him would believe his words. He knew that if faced with the choice of keeping his daughter safe or not revealing the true nature of his work, he would choose his daughter every time. He prayed it would not come to that.

Melina pulled out a small black device. She slammed it on the oak desk in front of Emin. He scanned it for a moment. His eyes widened as he realized what the device was; a voice-activated recorder. Milena pressed a small button on the recorder’s side and Erik heard the sound of his voice fill his office. “The deal with Matthins is set for next Thursday. 2362 and 1131 will make contact with him at Zimmerman’s Toy Shop in Bulin. His code sign will be Zeta Delta Gamma 7104.”

The voice of a woman sounded in response through the speaker. “Excellent 4925. Headman will be pleased to hear of your report. You’ll be contacted when necessary.”

“Understood.” The recording ended leaving Emin and Milena in silence.

Milena once again sat down in front of Emin and pulled back the safety of her gun. “What about now?”

…..

Present-day:

Tasha and Jason made their way up the marble steps of the Bulin Meeting Hall. All around they were surrounded by throngs of men and women who pressed and crowded together through the arching doorway, eager to hear Dalmar’s words. The night air was filled with lively discussion and passionate chants of “No longer silenced, freedom for Krudia.” The fiery impassioned political rally was unlike anything Tasha and Jason had ever seen and an uneasy reminder of the power Dalmar had grasped in Krudia. After a significant amount of time had elapsed they were finally able to make their way inside the hall. The two of them had barely taken a seat when Dalmar was announced onstage. As he came into view thunderous applause and cheers erupted from the boisterous crowd. Some in the audience whistled, others hollered, and even a few wiped away tears from their eyes. He wore a dark blue houndstooth tweed three-piece suit, tailored to fit him perfectly, and his gray thinning hair was slicked back. Dalmar reached the podium and gave a crooked smile and wave to his mass of loyal supporters. Cameras flashed as the crowd tried to capture this moment of acknowledgment. Tasha opened her purse and pulled out her pen. She snapped several shots of Dalmar, followed by others of the large crowd. Once finished she placed the pen back into her purse. The audience continued their deafening applause until Dalmar held up his hand to signal them to come to a stop. He cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone. “To my fellow citizens of Krudia, it is with profound gratitude and great humility that I stand before you here tonight and accept your unwavering support. We stand on the eve of election day. A day we will decide what future we want for this country…”

Jason leaned over to Tasha and whispered in her ear. “I’ll give him this. He sure has great fashion sense.”

“I’ll be sure to ask for the name of his designer.”

“Would you? Thanks. I was thinking a five-piece, black…herringbone pattern would be nice.”

“Sure. I’ll send you the suit…along with the bill.” She smirked.

“You know on second thought, it’s really not my style” he shrugged.

“Mmm-hmm right.” She playfully responded.

“You mind passing me your bag?” he asked quickly, attempting to change the subject.

“Here you are.” She held her brown handbag out to him.

“Thanks,” Jason said as he took the purse from her. He opened it and pulled out the black pen. “Like you said you can never have enough evidence.”

“Glad to see you’re taking my advice to heart” she coyly smiled.

“Just don’t let it go to your head.” Jason teasingly responded as he started taking more photos of the event.

Dalmar leaned forward, his hand resting on the podium. “We must demand our rights. We must demand reform. We must demand change.” He paused and stopped for a brief moment. The audience barely made a sound as they wanted to ensure they heard Dalmar’s every word. “We can no longer be silent, we deserve our freedom.” Cheers and applause once again erupted from the crowd along with the chant of “No longer silenced, freedom for Krudia.”

Near the back of the audience, a blond-haired woman quietly sat. Her full attention was on the sight in front of her. Her eyes weren’t focused on Dalmar but rather on the auburn-haired woman and brown-haired man who sat merely a few rows in front of her. For her, they were the key.

…..

A few miles away from the meeting hall an Aston Martin pulled up in front of an abandoned warehouse. Except for a few street lights that dotted the landscape Bulin’s infamous Warehouse District was left in a shroud of darkness and shadows. Milena glanced out the driver’s window and saw three darkened shadows waiting for her by the rusted metal door of the warehouse. At least they’re punctual. Milena opened the car door and stepped into the street. Once she reached the men, one of them stepped closer to her. “Ms. Blagueur-Ohanyan, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance” he mockingly bowed.

Milena kept a blank expression on her face. Another man, it appeared to Milena the oldest of the three, spat some tobacco juice on the ground and spoke. “So what can we do for you, Your Majesty” he sneered.

Milena pulled out a brown envelope from her black overcoat and threw it on the ground. “What do you think? I need your services” she snarkily snapped.

The other man, the youngest of the three, bent down and picked up the envelope. He handed it to the oldest gentleman. He opened the package and scanned its contents. The man closed the envelope and tucked it in his jacket. “You must really hate this person. But hey I’m not complaining.”

“Now I need them alive.”

The man gave a fake laugh. “Alive huh? Well, that’s gonna cost you extra.”

“Fine.” Milena reached back into her pocket and handed the gentlemen another sealed envelope.

The man quickly took the envelope and also placed it in his jacket.“So who are the lucky people?”

Milena pulled out a picture and handed them to the gentleman. The hitmen all scanned the photograph. It was of a man and a woman who each appeared to be in their early twenties. The man had brown hair and striking blue eyes, while the woman had auburn hair and her eyes were a deep green. The man placed the images in his other pocket. “Time and place?” The oldest man asked.

“Tomorrow night. The Chardell.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 47

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and  playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 47: The final bullet in the vendetta.

            Kate woke up to find the bed empty beside her. It was early, she’d been anxious to be on time. She knew Tommy wouldn’t wake her up in hopes that she would sleep through the planned event.

            But she was up and dressed before she usually was. The flat was just as empty as the bed. Kate slipped on her coat and went down the street to the distillery. Several of the men on watch tipped their cap her way.

            Finn was waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He looked conflicted when she approached. “Tommy said not to let you come.” He stood between her and the stairs.

            Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, that’s not his choice to make, now, is it?”

            “The youngest Shelby didn’t look like he wanted to get caught up in the argument, but also didn’t want to catch flak from his brother. “It’d just be easier…”

            “We’re not living in easy times.” She interrupted. “I’ve heard Tommy’s side and I’ve made up my mind.” She concluded before pushing past Finn and making her way downstairs.

            Only Tommy was there, standing near a table with two chairs. He held a bottle of gin in his hand.

            “You never explained the label to me,” Kate spoke up to alert him of her presence.

            He turned although he didn’t seem too surprised that she had shown up. “What needs explaining?”

            She walked up to him and took the bottle from his hand. “Distilled for the eradication of seemingly incurable sadness.” She read off, having noticed it earlier when they were talking to Alfie.

            “Polly said that when you were in America, I nearly drank meself to death.” He answered calmly. “That and with the morphine, it was the only way I could tolerate being without you. I could sleep, I could ease myself of the guilt, and I could forget. But I’d much rather have you here.” He cradled her cheek in his hand. “So, go back home and wait for me.”

            “I’ll be right here. For the rest of your life, I’ll be here.” She kissed him softly, refusing to go anywhere.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Kate hadn’t seen Luca Changretta in years. His name had been haunting her for so long that she nearly forgot how long it’d been since they’d been face to face. He’d grown into a menacing figure, something she always knew he would be. The kind of fierce stature he was destined to become under the guidance of some of the most ruthless dons America had ever seen.

            Luca’s eyes landed on her as he stopped in front of her, Polly, Tommy, and Finn. But he didn’t speak to her. Instead, he beckoned one of his men to bring over a handful of documents, spread across the table.

            “I’ve had my lawyers draw up these. Documents for everything you own. And you’re gonna sign them all over to my family. Or you’re gonna die.” Standing in front of Tommy, Luca looked back to Kate. “I would’ve buried your whole family. Y’know, my mother knows you.” Luca said steadily. “She told me how to hurt you. How to really make you suffer. ‘Take everything from him, then make him watch Kathleen Lynch die.”

            Tommy didn’t flinch. He simply maintained eye contact with the man. Kate didn’t budge either.

            “Because she’s worse than you are, in some ways.” Luca continued. “She murdered two people who were loyal to me and my family. Killed them in cold blood for no reason. You and I, we kill to gain something, don’t we? But her? She just doesn’t care, does she? I’ve got the Leoni family asking me to right her wrongs. Take care of her so she doesn’t do any more harm. So, I will. And you’ll watch and live with the knowledge that you were her downfall.”

            Polly shifted a bit so she was standing more in front of Kate. But neither of them said a word in response.

            “Search them,” Luca commanded after finding a gun in Tommy’s coat. “The dead girl walking has a gun on her thigh.” He added, sending a glare towards Kate.

            None of them said anything as they were patted down. Kate reached down and pulled the gun from her holster on her thigh, handing it over.

            Luca began pushing each document onto the floor. “So, get down on your knees and sign those papers. I’ll even let you say goodbye to her if you’re quick about it.” He gestured for one of his men with a heavy-looking gun over. The executioner in place, as it were.

            Tommy’s eyes flicked to Polly then Kate before he sank to the floor. “A friend once told me that big fucks small. So, I had to find someone bigger than you.”

            “You’re too trusting to leave your empire behind to boys, Luca,” Kate spoke up on cue. “Who’s making sure the Spinetta’s don’t decide to take what’s yours? You may work for them but they have no loyalty to you. Your family is all but wiped out. Your allies in Boston are dead because of me. I’ve gotten word from Frank Wallace that the Gustin Gang has already seized half of the territory Santo Leoni used to own. They’re loyal to us and they could very well take all of it within the next year. And you know how much Frank just loves to hate you. You’ll never make a profit in that city again. After that you’ll lose New York too.”

            “And there’s a man in Chicago who’s willing to take over your business in New York as well,” Polly added.

            Kate couldn’t help the small smirk on her face. Vengeance really was sweet. “Now who do we know in Chicago that’s bigger than you’ll ever be?”

            Luca seemed like he was starting to grasp the ploy that had been made in front of him. The smugness was starting to fade from his eyes.

            “Alphonse Capone.” Tommy finished for her.

            “You’re talking to that fat fuck?” He hissed and looked to Kate. “That man killed your fucking mother and you’re working with him?”

            “The fact that you know that proves to me you were the one who told the Outfit where my mother lived. You were the final nail in her coffin.” She wasn’t as good at containing her anger like Tommy and Polly. “You used him to kill my mother and to get me out of your hair. Now I’m going to use him to kill you.”

            “All your blood relatives you brought here are dead. The only ones left are the ones who will take the highest bid.” Tommy concluded

            Luca turned to his men. The shock slowing down his movements.

            “Loyalty is so fickle, isn’t it?” Kate said with venom in her voice.

            Luca turned back to Tommy and reached for his coat.

            “Tommy!” Kate shrieked.

            He reacted fast, knocking the pistol out of Luca’s hand. Polly had to pull Kate away from the men brawling. She felt helpless, watching Tommy finally get the upper hand and slam Luca’s face into the gin bottles on the table.

            She was so caught in the action that she didn’t see the door open until Arthur was well in her line of vision, holding up a gun.

            The bullet went through Luca’s head and into the vat behind him. The final crescendo.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            Kate was almost bouncing out of her skin to get out of Birmingham. She was all smiles as they arrived at Arrow House. The large manor was such a sight to behold even at dusk when they pulled up the gravel drive.

            “Some fresh air, aye?” Tommy smiled as he helped Kate out of the car.

            “I can’t wait to see Blue tomorrow. I hope he hasn’t forgotten me.”

            “Horses have very good memories.” He assured her, linking arms with her as they walked back into the home they’d missed. “I’m sure he’ll be just as glad to see you.”

            “I’m going to get ready; they’ll be here soon.” On top of being back in Warwickshire and spending a nice evening with friends and family, they were finally able to tell everyone the news of Kate’s pregnancy. With the vendetta behind them, it seemed there was nothing but the open sky ahead of them. Even if it was naïve to think it would be smooth sailing from then on, Kate still wanted to believe that it would.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Tommy called for everyone’s attention as they drank and laughed in the parlor later on that night. He stood with Kate sitting nearby.

            “Listen up, before we go and eat, I’d like to say a few words. Last time we were all here, it ended badly. But now we’re in a happier place, something I think we all deserve. Last time, Kate wasn’t with us. But she’s here now and that’s something I’m very grateful for.”

            “I think that’s something we’re all grateful for.” Arthur chimed in loudly. “Keeps you in line.”

            Kate laughed. “I try my best.”

            “That she does.” Tommy looked fondly at her. “Other happy news, we’ll be having a wedding as soon as we can plan it. And we’ll be expecting a new arrival, maybe two if Pol’s right. Which, we all know she is when it comes to these things. In other words, Kate is expecting twins.”

            There was a murmur of surprise but Ada looked thrilled as she crossed the room to hug her. “I should’ve known. How couldn’t I have known?”

            “Twins, aye?” Arthur shook his head with a grin. “And what’ll they be, Polly? Boys or girls or both?”

            “Two boys,” Polly reported. “God bless us all.”

            Kate smiled and stood up to kiss Tommy’s cheek. What a happy occasion.

            “Then, that gives me even more of an argument for what m’about to say.” Arthur stood up with his whiskey glass in hand. “Our enemies are gone. And for the first time since we enlisted in the yeomanry. The Shelby boys, me, Tommy, and John.” He paused briefly, sadness in his eyes for their fallen brother. “For the first time, there’s peace. Since you’ve got little ones on the way, you need some free time. So, I propose, from everyone in the company, that Tommy should take a holiday. War’s over. It’s time you’ve rested.”

            Kate nodded and squeezed Tommy’s hand.

            “To peace.” Arthur finished his toast, giving his brother an earnest look. But Tommy’s eyes were distant. There was something that wasn’t done with.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea  @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @radical-gecko @actorinfluence @meltingicequeen @merlettina 

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[accio-kitty-malfoy]

A Breath of Fresh Hair

Chapter 9: First Name Basis

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633025/chapters/60625606

When they got back from the hospital Harry knew the only place he was going was to bed. It was nearly ten and he felt tired to his core. He took his potion and was asleep before his head had hit his pillow. When he opened his eyes again, everything was dark. He looked around and as his eyes adjusted, he noticed how small the space he was in appeared to be. There were three toy soldiers neatly lined up on a tiny shelf and he was sat on his bed. A feeling of loneliness welled up in him so profoundly that he though he was going to cry, but tears did not come. He heard a voice in the back of his head telling him that he was a silly boy, and that real men didn’t cry. He closed his eyes again, shutting them tight to block out the overwhelming darkness. When he opened them again, he was stood alone on a train platform. He felt lost and he realised that he had no-one to ask where to go. Everyone was avoiding him and getting on with their life. He tried to speak but no sound came out of his mouth. He screwed his eyes shut and opened them again. This time he was stood next to an archway, watching a tall, rugged man slip softly through the curtains. Harry tried to grab him, but his arms went through the man like smoke. He screamed, trying to let the world know how unfair it was. His eyes slid shut once more. He opened them defiantly, wanting to see the man one last time, but instead he just saw bodies. All around him laid the bodies of his friends and family. Remus, Tonks, Fred, his mum and dad, Dobby and Sirius were all staring glassy eyed up at him. He fell to his knees and beat the ground, shouting until his throat felt raw. Gentle but firm arms wrapped around him and pulled his face into their chest.

 When he awoke, Ginny was cradling him, making soothing noises to try and calm him. He woke up screaming less and less, but it still happened, and when it did Ginny was nearly always there to help him. His heart began to slow after a while, and he wiped the tears away from his eyes.

“Cup of tea in the kitchen?” Ginny always knew what he needed. He nodded, grabbed his glasses and they made their way downstairs. When they got into the kitchen Harry noticed the letter that was addressed to him on the table. He opened it carefully, scanning the beautiful writing.

 “Mr Potter,

 I hope you’re feeling somewhat better than you did at our last meeting. If you still wish to meet, we can either try again at the coffee shop, or I can travel to The Burrow and meet you there if you’re still feeling under the weather. I don’t usually travel to meet my clients but I’m willing to make an exception for you due to your illness.

 Fleur let me know that you had the flu. You really shouldn’t have made yourself more ill just to attend the meeting. I would have understood if you had postponed our meeting for a different date.

 Get well soon, Mr Potter.

 Sincerely,

 Draco Malfoy”

 Harry couldn’t work out whether the letter was genuine or if Malfoy was being sarcastic. He sighed and rubbed his temples, handing the letter to Ginny to read. He told her that he didn’t think he would be attending another meeting with Malfoy.

“I don’t think I can face him after what happened. He’ll never let me live it down. And I don’t know if I’d be able to work with Malfoy even if I hadn’t fallen onto my face in front of him and had him carry me in his bloody arms back to The Burrow.”

“From what I’ve heard,” Ginny replied, “Malfoy is actually incredibly professional. He hasn’t let past issues be a problem or stop him from working with individuals and doing a bloody good job too.”

“But it’s Malfoy, Gin. What the hell is he doing with a job anyway?” Ginny frowned.

“What would you think he’d be doing?” They asked.

“I don’t know, flouncing around the manor being a pretentious twat.” Harry scowled.

“You do realise that he lives in a two bedroom flat with Pansy right? I think Hermione said they lived above some coffee shop in London.” Ginny sighed. “Look Harry, you either work with Malfoy and get this idea off the ground and live the life you want, or you let the fact that it’s Malfoy ruin what you could have. You never know, maybe he’s grown up a bit since school.” Harry was slightly taken aback by Ginny’s tone, but he guessed they were right. He shouldn’t let old rivalries stand in the way of his happiness. He’d just have to maintain a professional relationship with Malfoy and only see him when it was absolutely necessary. He took a long drink from his mug of tea to avoid having to respond to Ginny. Harry’s silence was a perfect confirmation to Ginny that they were right.

 Harry felt much better that day, but he still took his potion as instructed by Fleur. She would be staying in the hospital for a few days for observations as a precaution because the baby had been born just over a week early, but they both seemed fine. His appetite was fully back, and he ate his breakfast outside while he watched Ginny train, giving them pointers here and there. Their try-outs were getting closer by the day and they’d taken some time off for the wedding and the birth of the baby, so they were on a very strict routine. It was still warm, and Harry lounged in the sun, enjoying the rays on his face. He watched the members of the Weasley household coming to and fro and decided that he should reply to Malfoy’s letter. He said goodbye to Ginny and went up to his room.

 “Dear Mr Malfoy,

 Thank you for your concern, I’m still not 100% but I am getting better. I think Fleur is a miracle worker with her Potions. It’s probably best if we meet at the coffee shop again as Fleur has just given birth so it’s somewhat hectic at The Burrow.

 If you let me know when you’re free, I’ll be there. My schedule isn’t particularly full at the minute.

 Sincerely,

 Harry”

 Harry read over the letter a few more times before he sent it off with Pig. He made himself another cup of tea and settled down in the reading nook to half read-half nap and enjoy the sun coming through the window. He kept checking the sky, looking for signs of Pig. He was worried about the meeting with Malfoy, but he supposed Ginny was right. If Malfoy could be professional, so could he. He wondered who else Malfoy had worked with and what their experience of working with him was like. Ginny seemed to know a little bit about Malfoy’s work so he decided to ask them after they’d finished training. When the letter from Malfoy arrived, Harry’s stomach flipped a little. He read it quickly.

 “Mr potter,

I am free at one in the afternoon tomorrow. If you’re feeling up to it then we will meet then at the same coffee shop as last time. If you aren’t feeling up to it, please send an owl on the day and we can re arrange the meeting for a more suitable time and date. I’m sure you’re anxious to get the ball rolling with your idea and the sooner we can meet to discuss the basics, the sooner I can formulate some plans for you.

 Please also pass on my congratulations and best wishes to Fleur and Bill on the birth of their baby.

 I hope you are well,

 Draco”

 Harry stared at the letter for a while. The word ‘Draco’ stood out to him and made him feel weird. He’d signed his last letter to Malfoy ‘Harry’, but that was just out of habit. Had Malfoy signed his letter using his first name because Harry had done the same? Would Malfoy expect him to call him Draco? Or would they be ‘Mr Potter’ and ‘Mr Malfoy’ to one another? He supposed they would develop some familiarity with each other if they were going to be working together. He said the word out loud and it even felt weird on his tongue as he said it. He couldn’t ever imagine calling Malfoy ‘Draco’, especially not to his face. He sighed and shook his head, writing in his response that the next day would be fine, and he would see him then.

 When Ginny came back in from training, he asked who else Malfoy had worked with. Apparently he’d worked with Luna when she’d taken over the Quibbler to help her reform the business and make it work more smoothly. They’d since become friendly and went out for a drink occasionally. This eased Harry’s worried slightly, as Luna was a very good judge of character and, if she liked him and got on with him, he supposed he could too. Ginny said that they knew he’d worked with some other people and their businesses were all pretty successful so far and that eased his mind further.

 The rest of Harry’s day was spent lounging. While he didn’t feel particularly ill anymore, his energy levels weren’t very high, so he took the opportunity to rest, eat and drink tea. He spent a lot of time in the reading nook in the front room. It was one of his favourite places to be because he could alternate between reading, napping and watching the chickens out in the garden. It rained in the evening and he went out to a sheltered place and relished the feel and smell of freshness in the air. He hoped it was a sign of good change coming to him, even though he’d never really believed in omens or divination. When he went to bed, he slept much better. He couldn’t remember his dreams but they weren’t nightmares, and for that he was thankful.

[polarisavi]

lucas had mentioned something about making some food before they leave, which is why eliott heads to the kitchen after getting out of the shower. heads to the kitchen and instead of finding food, finds lucas lying on the kitchen floor, shirt off and eyes closed and using one of the take out brochures as a fan. there’s a knife and what were probably sandwich ingredients on the counter.

it takes a second or two to absorb this development, but not much longer. outside the temperature sits above thirty, sunlight cheerfully raining pain down on anyone forced outside, and inside is only a handful of degrees cooler.

eliott sits down against the kitchen cabinets near lucas’ head, and gently pokes at his ribs until one eye opens.

“i see you went for the deconstructed meal approach,” he says, and lucas swats vaguely at his ankles, deigns to open both eyes just so he can roll them.

“it would be a crime against humanity to produce any more heat right now.” he turns his brochure fan so it sends air in eliott’s direction instead. it’s warm air, but he appreciates the effort. “and hot air rises,” he adds, and uses his spare hand to hit the floor. in emphasis or in explanation, eliott doesn’t know.

“i guess i can’t argue with that. should we crawl everywhere now?”

“it doesn’t matter because i’m never leaving this floor. it’s so cold,” he turns his head to the side to lay his cheek against the tiles. eliott meets his eyes automatically. “if you got up to turn off the lights this would be heaven.”

“‘never leaving’,” he repeats, and lucas nods as best he can. “so you want to skip out on our date?” it’s not that big of a deal if they do, the exhibition will be open for another month, so he makes sure his voice is light when he asks. lucas closes his eyes and makes some high pitched protesting noise, head flopping back to face the ceiling.

"it's too hot. if i go outside my skin will bubble and slide off and then i'll have no face left and then you'll leave me and then i'll have to stay in some dark corner of a hospital waiting for a complete skin transplant and then i'll have to move to norway because my previous life will feel like a sham because of the deep psychological changes that happened to me while i was a skinless, helpless creature."

eliott blinks, allowing only a sliver of a smile through; any bigger and it would shine through in voice. "is that all?" he asks mildly and lucas groans loudly, dramatically and lightly bangs his head in the floor. he lets his smile grow, vision narrowing as his cheeks bunch. his ridiculous theatrical boyfriend.

“i’m serious. and i won’t have any friends to lean on because you’ll move on with yann and afterwards being around him would be too painful to bear, more painful than my body of exposed nerves.” one comment that out of lucas’ friends eliott would go for yann and he’s never going to live it down. at their wedding there’ll probably be jokes that he’ll run away with the best man.

“i don’t think i could get away with stealing chloe’s boyfriend twice,” he says instead.

“i was never her boyfriend,” lucas answers, not opening his eyes.

“but - you made valentine’s plans with her, though. i was there.”

lucas’ face twists, mouth open in what might be outrage, but he just mutters, “i wasn’t her boyfriend, i was just,” one of his hands waves in random patterns in the air above him, “there,” he lands on.

eliott - he knows that there was some shame and panic involved with what happened between lucas and chloe, so he doesn’t push further, just pokes at lucas’ ribs again.

“okay.”

“okay?”

“i think it would be a public hazard to let you out in the world in this state. children would cry.”

lucas scoffs, rises up on his elbows to make his point better. “crying’s good for the blood. their parents would thank me.”

eliott’s eyebrows raise and he barks out a surprised laugh. “i’m sorry, i didn’t realise you have the spirit of a 17th century doctor living in you. are you going to give me cocaine the next time i get a cough?”

lucas drops back to the floor. “only a little bit.”

eliott copies him, stretches out from his sitting position until he’s flat on the floor level with lucas. the tiles are cool, almost soothing on the bare skin of his calves, the backs of his knees, a strip of skin above his waistband where his singlet rode up.

eliott presses his cheek to the floor to look at lucas, whose hair has fallen back just enough to expose the pointed tip of his ear, usually hidden away under the loops of his long hair. fondness flows through eliott, sweet and sticky like honey, pins his thoughts exactly where they are. helpless, he presses a quick kiss or three to lucas' cheek. lucas sucks in a sharp breath, surprised, maybe, so eliott lingers close and kisses the edge of his mouth before moving back.

those doe eyes, ocean eyes, divine eyes, have questions when lucas shifts to face him, but eliott only smiles. at some point lucas will stop being so surprised by sudden affection, by proof of eliott's admiration and devotion, but it hasn't happened yet.

"what are we doing instead?" he asks.

lucas hums and drums his fingers against his stomach, thinking. "you're closest to the freezer."

"i - am, yes."

"can you see if we have any popsicles? mika made a lot yesterday.”

huh. mika, always with the hidden depths. eliott does as he’s asked, the air warmer and stickier than it was before, and finds several trays of popsicle molds, transparent to show the various fruits and colours mika threw in.

“there are a lot left,” he reports back and twists around.

lucas smiles, pleased, and stretches his arms above his head. if he wasn’t on a kitchen floor it would almost be decadent. “we’ll never have to leave this room. the sun can burn itself out and us along with it, but we’ll have flavoured ice as we go.”

“that was very poetic.” he brings back two and gratefully embraces the ground again. lucas was a genius sometimes. he makes sure to tell him as such when he passes one over.

the first taste is sweet, light, raspberry and - alcoholic. gin. it’s good, kind of perfect, actually. or perfect adjacent, some music and less lights would be better. but that’s okay, perfect adjacent is more than he ever really thought he’d get. in his peripheral vision a few orange bulbs of the tulips lucas got him are visible, vivid and hopeful, and lucas hums something unfamiliar, quiet and off centre, like he’s skipping some beats.  

eliott carefully shrugs off his singlet, the tiles a delightful stab of ice against his back.

they clink their popsicles together.

“cheers, mister demaury.”

“cheers, mister lallemant.”

[galadrieljones]

that he may hold me by the hand: chapter 1

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Albert Mason  

Rating: Mature (Adult Themes, Violence, and Sexual Content) 

Summary: After saving Albert from falling off a cliff in the Heartlands, Arthur invites him to Valentine for a drink. What ensues after that is a quiet love story, in which both men find themselves completely undone.

Masterpost | AO3 | Epigraph 

Chapter 1: Well, we are untamed.

It was a quiet evening, that night he ran into Arthur Morgan again out near Caliban’s Seat, just south of Valentine. Albert had been photographing eagles, or trying to, spouting off a real big game as he tripped off the ledge up there like a fucking fool. He should have died, showing off like that. Truth be told. But the outlaw—he rustled him back up the ledge, put him back on his feet, and dusted off his vest like nothing had happened at all. He was never flustered, this man, Arthur Morgan. He seemed untamed and yet quietly sewn around the edges. The seams were messy, but there they were, seams.

Reduced to a wilting version of his former self, Albert glanced over the ledge after his near-death experience. As usual, he placed himself in Mr. Morgan’s debt, charming with his song and show energy that had become, to him, second nature. Arthur was unconcerned with anything like debts. He just smiled. Albert looked up at the sky now where the sun was on its last legs in the west. He felt strange about leaving. The randomness had begun to stack up and was beginning to trigger inside of him some odd anxiety in which he wondered if he was ever going to see him again. “I’m—I’m sorry for all the trouble,” said Albert, straightening his hat, picking up his leather valise with the fraying handle. The tripod and the camera all gathered into his arms. He freed one hand, held it out for a shake. “Mr. Morgan. Perhaps—”

“I’m going into Valentine,” said Arthur. He shook Albert's hand, held it firm, then released him and lit a cigarette. He tipped his hat back a little so Albert could see his whole face. “I got a thing going with a buddy of mine. Told me to meet him at the auction yard, but that ain’t till morning. You wanna come, have a drink with me?”

Albert blinked. Sometimes he got hot, around the rim of his collar for no reason.

“It’s just an offer,” said Arthur, confident. He smoked. “I mean, if you’re headed that way.”

“Oh, right,” said Albert, shaking out his head a little, as if he had only just realized what he was being asked. “Yes,” he said. “You know, I haven’t made many friends here. The untamed country, it can be unforgiving, to say the least. Dreadfully lonely. A drink would be—it would be nice.”

“Good,” said Arthur, that half-smile. He tossed the cigarette, took Albert’s valise in a gentlemanly fashion, lashed it up on Albert’s horse then hopped up to the saddle of his own. “Come on. Get the rest of that stuff on your horse, and follow me.”

“Okay.”

A molten, muddy town, Valentine welcomed them. Its name alone was sweet, like an invitation. Though neither of them thought of that at the time. Life is sometimes full of feelings that we do not know we feel until we're already inside them, captives to our own ignorance.

“It’s kind of good,” said Arthur, taking a seat at a booth by the window, “meeting on purpose for once, don’t you think?”

“I do,” said Albert, sitting across from him. He still had his valise which seemed home to all of his earthly goods, but he had left the rest of it all outside on his horse, which they could see through the window. “I very much do. I've never been terribly charming, I'm afraid. I don't find myself forging many friendships.”

"You charm just fine," said Arthur, settling in. "And I wouldn't worry about forging too many friendships, Mr. Mason. In my experience, one or two will suffice."

Albert seemed to find this comforting.

Arthur set a toothpick between his teeth then, leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “So, where are you from anyway?”

Albert removed his hat, straightened up in the booth. “I am from Philadelphia.”

“Philadelphia,” said Arthur. “Well, that is a place I can safely say I have never been.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like this,” said Albert. “This wide open country. It’s very…constricted. There are walls on all sides it seems. Pressing in.”

“And you don’t like walls.”

“No, sir. Well, I mean, I am not opposed to walls. But in a more philosophical sense, no, I do not like walls.”

“Me neither,” said Arthur. He gestured for the bartender, snapped his fingers and was immediately catered to.

“What’ll it be?” shouted that bartender, wise to Arthur by now, shining up a glass behind the counter.

“A whiskey for me,” said Arthur. "Make it a double. And, uh—” He looked at Albert. “What do you want, Mr. Mason?”

“Uh, gin, perhaps?”

“And a gin. And do that one up nice, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Arthur returned his focus now, chewing that toothpick.

“What does that mean?” said Albert. “Do it up nice?”

“Ah, I just meant, you ain’t the rough sort, Mr. Mason. Straight-up don’t really seem like your style. He’ll put a little mint leaf in there for you. Maybe sweeten it up a bit.”

“Gin with mint and sugar?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“It sounds good,” said Albert, nodding. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They sat for a little while. There were conversations everywhere in the saloon, the smell of liquor like ribbons, wrapping all around and inside. Arthur had his hands folded on the table now, gazing out the window. A coach went by, pulling a whole load of timber. The man driving was holding a lantern that sort of dangled, and he was shouting for the horses to pull steady through the mud.

“Where are you from, Mr. Morgan?" said Albert.

This sort of yanked him back into the moment. He looked back at Albert who was a patient man. "Sorry?" said Arthur.

“Did I startle you? I just asked where you were from.”

“Oh,” said Arthur, a little clumsy feeling. “Apologies.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I think I was born somewhere in northern Nebraska,” said Arthur. “Whereabouts, at least. My ma and pa set out on the Oregon Trail when I was four or five? I ain’t got much memory of that.”

“The Oregon Trail?” said Albert. “Fascinating.”

“I’m sure it was, in some respects.”

“Albeit difficult, I surmise.” Albert removed his hat, set it on the booth beside him. “For your mother especially. I can't imagine that being an easy journey, particularly when you've got a small child. Is she still alive, your mother?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. She passed when I was nine years old. We was up in Oregon when she got sick.”

“Oh,” said Albert, softening, becoming almost transparent, like a ghost. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” said Arthur. “It’s a more or less typical thing to ask. And that's a long time ago. I was a kid.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose.”

The bartender came over then with their drinks. They toasted. “How is it?” said Arthur.

“Very good. Thank you, sir.”

“So where you living?” said Arthur, sipping his whiskey. “You must have a room, or a place around here somewhere.”

“Well, I’ve camped some.”

Arthur chuckled at this. “You? Camping?”

Albert laughed as well, canny to this particular predicament of heroics and protection and how it had become commonplace in the fabric of their friendship. He was not offended. “I’ll have you know, good sir, I’m not quite as hapless as I may seem,” he said. “Of course, I’m not you. That is well-established. I cannot live meaningfully off the land for any sustained period of time. I am far from a...piece of its beauty, if you will. But I do my best.”

Arthur gazed at him. A man started playing a little tune on the piano, and some of the saloon girls were singing along. “You’re not camping near no gator nests, I hope.”

Albert shook his head, amused. “No, no. Of course not. I have learned something these past months. But speaking of predators, I do have a room, down in St. Denis, over the high saloon there. They’ll rent by the week if they like you.”

“And they like you, Mr. Mason?”

“Well.” He blushed. “Apparently. Though I've no idea why.”

“Please.” Arthur took a long drink. “Why St. Denis?” he said. “I thought you said you didn’t like walls, in a philosophical sense.”

“I don’t,” said Albert. “That’s just where the train dropped me off. Tonight I suppose I’ll get a room here, in Valentine. I’ve stayed at the hotel once or twice.” He took some of his gin, tapped his fingers on the table. He had a little bit of sun burn on his face, Arthur noticed. Albert picked up his hat off the bench and set it on the table, as if to keep an eye on it, and then he wiped his forehead with a gold handkerchief from his pocket. “It sure is warm in here.”

“Little bit,” said Arthur.

“Where do you live, Mr. Morgan?”

“Please. Just call me Arthur.”

“Right,” said Albert. “Where do you live, Arthur?”

“All over,” said Arthur. “My gang—I travel with, a gang of sorts—we got a sort of big old camp, not far from here.”

“You live nearby?”

“For now.”

“I see,” said Albert, nodding. “You know, I’ve thought of you often, Arthur.” He looked up, a starry man. The way he talked sometimes, it was just like storytelling. “I’ve seen you enough times now, out in this wilderness. You live a life of your own inside my foolish memory. But there, you’re more a character than a man. So far, I mean. Though I expect that will change.”

“A character?”

“Yes,” said Albert. “Like a hero from the storied wilds of the west. Almost Byronic. Always seeming to be there right when the damsel is about to accidentally kill herself with her hubris.”

Arthur laughed at this. “Now, I've read Byron,” he said. "I think you're either flattering me or insulting me, Mr. Mason."

“It’s just Albert,” he said, smiling down into his drink. “Al, if you’re feeling cheeky. And I would never insult you. But don’t mind me. I grow sentimental with alcohol.”

“Good men always do in my experience,” said Arthur.

“Sometimes I miss the walls back home," said Albert, a little subdued. "Their absence, it makes me fearful. Like I’m falling forever, and there will be nothing there to catch me. I wish I weren't so sheltered. The uncertainty, it makes me babble.”

“You got a family?” said Arthur.

Albert shook his head. He finished his drink. Arthur snapped his fingers, silently beckoned the bartender for a refill.

“I never married,” said Albert. “Never had the time. Then again, I'm only thirty. My mother, she’s still alive. I suppose that's family enough. She writes me letters, telling me about her goings around the town. She’s a dreadful gossip. But a good woman. She may be moving to California soon.”

”California? Whereabouts?”

”Her brother lives in a cabin near Monterey, in a charming township called Carmel-by-the-Sea.”

”Carmel,” said Arthur. He had never been there, but he'd heard of it. It made him think of fishermen. “Yeah, I know that place.”

“She was always proud of me,” said Arthur. “My dear gossip of a mother. She helped put me through school, even after father died.” He nodded to himself. The bartender came by to refill his gin drink. “Thank you, sir,” Albert said.

“No problem,” said the bartender and went away.

“She sounds real nice,” said Arthur, smiling. He wasn't surprised by Albert's age. That seemed right. “It’s nice that she helped you.”

“I haven’t seen her in a couple of years,” said Albert, drinking. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you got a wife? A family?”

Arthur sighed, shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

Arthur laughed, mostly at himself. “Lord knows I’ve tried,” he said. “Believe me. I’ve had my share of chances.” He was turning a coin in his fingers now, from his pocket.

"Well, you can't be but what, thirty-five?"

Arthur studied him. "Pretty close."

"There's still time. If it's what you want."

Arthur found this amusing. “I do miss her sometimes. But let’s just say it ain’t worth the headache.”

“How come?”

“She’s—well, she’s a little like you.” He smiled. “I don’t mean the headache part. I mean that she’s above my station. Our inequalities manifested in any number of detestable ways, drove us apart. It wasn’t never gonna work. She’s too good for me. ”

“I’m not too good for you,” said Albert. “Don’t be silly, Arthur. And I’m sorry, that it didn’t work out.”

Arthur saw the ways his face flickered, an optimist. He smiled at Albert but he did not agree with his former claim. “Thank you.”

”Don’t mention it.”

“When will you be going back to Philadelphia?” he said.

“Not for several months, at least,” said Albert. “Truth be told, my timeline is a bit of a shit show. Pardon my language. I haven’t gotten nearly enough of what I came for.”

“Oh yeah? What are you still missing?”

“A great deal,” said Albert, seeming filled with resolve all of a sudden. Maybe it was the booze. “Perhaps you could help me. I’m on the search for black bear.”

“Black bear?” said Arthur. “I know a couple good spots for finding black bear.”

“Really?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well,” said Albert. “Perhaps we could meet again, sometime soon. Go…bear hunting, if you will. I don’t mean bear-shooting. No, of course not. I mean, unless they try to eat me. I just mean—well you know what I mean by now.”

Arthur smirked, just a little bit. “Yeah, I do.”

Albert straightened up with his elbows off the table, looking relieved. “Where are the black bear?" he said. "I thought I read in my atlas that west of Annesburg was a good spot.”

"Yeah, a good spot if you wanna get ambushed by hill people who'd fancy sucking your eyeballs out through a straw."

It was like being pitched straight off a cliff. Albert looked up from where he had been fussing with the buttons on his sleeve. "Good heavens. Hill people?"

"You stick with me, Mr. Mason," said Arthur, taking a long drink. "I'll get you some black bear, but considering your luck, I think we should avoid the Roanoke Valley."

"Whatever you say."

“Will you be heading back to St. Denis?” said Arthur.

“Tomorrow, yes,” Albert said. “I have a meeting there, with a gallery owner.”

“A gallery?” said Arthur, seriously. “They gonna show your photos?”

“I hope so,” said Albert.

“That’s wonderful.”

“Indeed. Though it's all very cut throat and unclear, and I haven’t got my hopes up.”

They finished up their drinks after that, listening to the piano. The bar was getting fuller, men standing shoulder to shoulder and the occasional woman, fanning herself at the bar. Neither Albert nor Arthur seemed very willing to drink any more.

“Well,” said Albert after a little while. “I suppose I should be going. The train out of here is very early in the morning.”

“Yeah, I should be going, too,” said Arthur.

"Will you head back to your camp, or...?"

"Maybe," said Arthur. "Or I might just set up shop in the hills till morning."

"You mean, sleep under the stars?"

"Sure."

"Well," said Albert. "I do envy you your casual relationship with nature. You know I always have."

"You're too kind to me," said Arthur, giving in a little. It was easy, which surprised him. Arthur thought it felt vaguely like looking in a mirror that could reflect another universe. He left the coin on the table for the bartender. Then he went up to settle whatever there was on his tab. Albert had put on his hat and was waiting for him at the door.

Outside, the night was cool. The sky was big and so clear you could see the whole galaxy up there, spread out like buckshot. The streets were quiet, but there was some bustle. Always men moving in and out of these parts, working girls smoking. One of the girls said hello to Arthur, as he had seen her around before. Her name was Violet, and she was young and this always triggered inside him a sense of failure. He wanted to save her, but he had tried that sort of thing before. It was an old complex for Arthur, and by now he knew a selfish endeavor.

Arthur took the reins on Albert’s horse and lead her along, walking Albert over to the hotel. He kept his hat off the whole time. Albert held his valise with one hand by his side. Arthur tied up the old girl and patted her once behind the ear. “What’s your horse’s name,” he said.

“Martha,” said Albert. "After my late grandmother."

“Martha,” said Arthur, smiling. “That’s a nice name.”

“I think so. What about your horse. She’s a real beauty. Is that an Arabian?”

“Yes, sir,” said Arthur, gazing back to where she was tied up at the saloon. “Wild. I broke her myself. Found her up near Lake Isabella."

"Boy, that's far."

"You're telling me. She was so averse to me at first, I basically lived up there for two weeks, trying to get her to like me. It was grueling, but it worked.”

“That’s remarkable,” said Albert. “What is her name?”

“Amelia.”

Albert smiled. “Amelia.”

“You gonna be able to stay out of trouble, Albert?” joked Arthur, walking him up the stairs. “I mean, till I see you next.”

“Of course,” said Albert. “Or, I’ll try.”

“That would be good.”

“When will I see you next?” said Albert.

Arthur thought on it. There was a whole lot of moon out that night, illuminating their eyes. They stopped just short of the door. The hour was late and there was no one else in earshot. “Well, for black bear, I'd take you out to Big Valley.”

"Big Valley, in West Elizabeth?"

"Yes, sir. Beautiful country out there. I think you'll really like it."

“All right,” said Albert, seeming giddy all of a sudden. “Perhaps we could meet in Strawberry, in two weeks? That should give me enough time to get back to St. Denis, get my affairs in order with the gallery, perhaps write my mother again. She’s a bit of worrier.”

“Sounds good,” said Arthur, nodding. He thought that Albert's mother probably ought to worry, given the wayward tendencies of her son. “Two weeks. You wanna meet me at the hotel there? It's a dry town, but you can bribe the proprietor. He's got a speakeasy in the back."

"You're kidding."

"No, sir. Meet me there, in the middle of the day. How’s noon?”

“Noon is perfect.”

“Good,” said Arthur. He opened the door so that Albert could step inside. “It’s been a pleasure, Albert Mason.”

“For me as well, Arthur Morgan. I’ll see you in two weeks. In Strawberry. On purpose this time.”

“Two weeks.” Arthur patted him on the shoulder, gave him a two-finger salute. Albert did the same. It was a bit of an awkward gesture for him but truth be told Albert's particular brand of awkward gestures were endearing to Arthur. That whole man made him feel warmer, like he'd been heated by one whole degree from the inside. It was a trifle confusing, but Arthur was somewhat used to confusion in those days.

He rode his horse out of town about five miles and decided to camp on the river, rather than head back to Horseshoe. He felt like loneliness. He caught a fish and panfried it and ate it with his fingers. He drank water, and he drank more whiskey. Then he took out his journal. He lit the torch from his saddlebag, let it sit there, attracting moths, reminding him of that stagecoach in Valentine, pushing through the mud, and the fine evening he had spent. He didn't write much, but he did sketch a little. He drew Albert Mason, holding his valise and wearing his hat, waiting by the saloon double-doors. He also drew a picture of a mint leaf, floating in gin. On the opposite page, he wrote, I shall die a fool.

Arthur fell asleep flat on his back on his bedroll, too tired and drunk to build a tent. The world had been kind to Albert Mason. That was one very important thing that Arthur learned that night. The world had been kind, and this imbued him with some bright confidence, despite what he might have had you think, and his overall bumbling demeanor. Talking to him was a cleansing experience. It made Arthur remember things. It made him feel things, remember that he could want things. It reminded him that he was still young, and life was strange and full of welcome confusions, like this one.

[chill-that-ur-inmyhead]

Do you get nervous before “meeting the parents”? yes wow who doesn’t What do you think of your friends? they’re the best, especially for putting up with me What do you prefer to drink in the morning? orange juice or green tea Have you ever done ecstacy? nah Do you like painkillers? if im in pain im sure theyre the best

What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex? my butt Do you own a knife?                                                                                              yes but for the kitchen Top 3 thoughts at this exact moment: i miss my ex. the gin is making me sleepy. i am worried what will happen in this episode of hustle Name five drinks you regularly drink:                                                        water, green tea, milk, orange/ mango juice and lemonade What time did you wake up today? 11 Current hair? blonde, shoulder length and in need of a wash Current worry? that i’ll never get over my ex Current hate? that i keep thinking about my ex Favourite place to be? my bed Least favourite place to be? uni campus Where would you like to go? Japan What do you think you’ll be in 10 yrs? at 30 well hopefully well paid job living in london or probably near London with a boyfriend or friends Last thing you ate? bourbon biscuits Last time you had an alcoholic drink? yesterday! What songs do you sing in the shower? taylor swift mostly or musicals Who is your loudest friend? elly What song do you want played at your funeral? something that taylor composes especially for me What were you doing 12AM last night? watching Mamma Mia Do people get shocked by how old you are? nah Do you have any features that people notice right away? As in a mole on your cheek, or a big nose, big teeth, etc? big lips Do you have a iHome? nah a least i don’t think so Don’t you just love pooping after holding it for a long time? yea gotta let it all out Whats a compliment that gets annoying? you look cute Whats the last compliment you received? you look cute Whats the meanest insult you have received? that i am boring Do you like hanging out at your house, or your friends? well my friends are at my house so yaaay Where is the last person you kissed at this moment? probably with her boyfriend at uni Will tomorrow be better then today? yes in some ways i hope so but you never know Have you ever fallen asleep with the last person you kissed? yeah Do you have any empty alcohol bottles hidden? they’re not hidden they’re filled with water on my gin cart Have you ever kissed someone whose name started with a: J, M, C, L, B, A? yes, J, C, B, A Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you like? well he broke up with me a month ago so ya Ever kissed a brown eyed and brown haired person?                                    yes Are you a player? nah Is there something you want to tell someone? to my ex i miss you and it sucks that we can’t be together (also i wonder if he thinks about me) What are you excited for? uni to be done Is something bothering you? yes i miss my ex and i had to delete facebook because he is there and it makes me sad Do you like the town you are living in?                                                          yea Does your best friend approve of the last person you kissed? well she’s upset that he hurt me but she’s not completely against him. she is all for me moving on but im kinda hoping he’ll come back Do you have any friends with kids? they’re not friends but i know of them Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? my friends Do you miss someone right now? yes my heart is in two Do you hate when people smoke around you?                                                  i try to avoid them Have you held hands with anyone in the past 24 hours? yes Think a lot before you fall asleep? i try to make myself really tired so i just fall asleep last night i was watching McCann documentary What was the last thing you spent your money on? food Be honest, who is the easiest person in your life to talk to? all my friends are tbh Your last kiss, were you dating that person at the time?                              nah she is my bestie Do you have a best friend of the opposite sex you tell everything to? i tell him pretty much everything but when we catch up ya Were you single last summer? nah What’s the weather like outside? grey skies i guess Is the last person you kissed older than you? yeah Where did you first kiss the last person you kissed? in his first year uni room Name three things you did or are going to do today: cry, eat, swim Are you currently frustrated with anyone or anything? yeah my ex, i have every emotion for him Let’s say you were ten years old again, what would be a typical day for you? i would be playing with my barbies and then my cut out dolls and then colour in some pictures Last place you went besides your house? i went to loughborough to visit my bestie Is there someone you’d really like to hang out with and just talk about stuff? my ex i wanna hug him too What was the worst feeling you last felt? that i wasn’t good enough How long have you been sober? 24 hours Last sexual experience? last sexual experience would be last year How often do you talk on the phone? from time to time Do you have a significant other at the moment? nope, i have a significant ex If no, do you want one? i want my ex back Do you “go out” a lot? nah not recently Do you work a lot? i will be What are your plans this evening? swimming What did you do last night? watched mamma mia and drank gin When the phone rings who do you want it to be? my ex Do you still talk to your exes? well no but that makes me sad What is your current favorite song? taylor swift - delicate Current Best Friend? brooke and yao Whats the BEST part of your life right now? my friends Favourite store to shop at:                                                                              asos, urban outfitters and zara Are you a good girlfriend/boyfriend? i thought i was but clearly not everything is perfect Current cell phone ringer? the classic iphone one Your weakness? guys What happened at 10:00 AM? i was sleeping Biggest annoyance in your life right now? i want to get over my ex but i want it to happen quicker, yet on the other hand i want him back i am torn Have you ever taken someone back after they hurt you? yeah Are you happy with your life at the moment? nah but it will get better Who was the first person you talked to today? haven’t talked to someone Will you be in bed within twenty minutes? i am in bed but should get ready for the day in a bit When will be the next time you text someone? probably in an hour How do you feel about your hair right now? needs to be washed and maybe a trim Who do you currently have texts in your inbox from? all my friends and my ex What colour was the last pill you took? white How many windows are open on your computer? 2 What are you doing after this? shower Where did you buy the shirt you are wearing?                                                  a vintage kilo sale Are you cold, warm or just right at the moment? just right Why did you last cry? my ex is my ex and it makes me sad that he is my ex Are you happier single or in a relationship? relationship Miss anything from your past? Yep.... one guess... it is my ex

[zeemonkey1]

Christmas Ants

`Twas the week before Christmas, and on the TV,

That idiot monkey was torturing me,

At least I’ve avoided the movies, for now,

But Curious George was still in my house.

 My psyche is fragile—I’m barely together—

But wishing for death is a futile endeavor,

I’ve no choice but placating the baby, it seems—

If we don’t watch the monkey, she’ll kill me with screams.

 In the midst of her shrieking I found the remote,

That bringer of monkey, that crusher of hope,

But Scylla is better to fight with awhile,

Than to face down that yelling Charybdis—my child.

 As the Dr. John intro was playing again,

I attempted to crowbar myself with some gin,

But not even Marion, deep in Mongolia,

Could drink enough booze to erase melancholia.

 And so my depression met George in his glee,

Blissfully eating and hooting at me,

All four limbs employed, stuffing food in his face,

And making—like always—a mess of the place.

 The Yellow-Hat Man was as patient as ever,

All “You’ve made a mess George! We’ll clean it together!

“But sadly, a meeting has called me away,

“So clean it yourself, George—and THEN we will play!”

 So George is alone in the room with the mess,

Half-assedly cleaning, not doing his best,

He plays stupid games while wasting his chance,

And soon the apartment was crawling with ants!

 “Hooray!” says I, “God’s judgment is nigh,

George is no Leiningen—surely he’ll die!”

The Yellow-Hat Man will return from the store

And find Curious Bones picked clean on the floor!

 As always, my happiness was premature—

These ants were harmless, and cute, to be sure,

So George—undevoured, unhurt, and unstuck

Called on Hundley the dachshund to help him clean up.

 Once, when the ants had infested MY kitchen,

I painted the walls with my furious bitching,

I poisoned, I smashed, I went nuts with a shovel,

I killed without mercy and danced in the rubble,

 The religious among them probably prayed,

And begged me to spare them from fire and plague,

The rest denied that I even existed

And blamed all misfortune on random statistics.

 But Hundley and George were benevolent gods

And they spared the lives of each arthropod,

The lesson George learned was that ants followed food,

And thus they all gathered, and thus were removed.

 So George with a trash can walked out to the park,

And Hundley dispersed all the people with barks,

And out crawled the ants, and all was made right,

And the Man soon came home to a glorious sight,

 The apartment was clean, the monkey was spared,

And I sat depressed--and quite buzzed--in my lair,

Thinking of ants and of gods and of life,

And hoping my daughter could skip all the strife,

 Would that our world was as easy as theirs,

With money no object, and everything fair,

And all problems solved in a ten-minute span,

And peace for our Christmas, and goodwill to Man.