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theshelbyclan · 3 years

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Love Language

Summary: Tommy doesn’t say ‘I love you’.

(Gif by @nofckingfighting)

A/N: Sweet anon asked: Hello i love you're writing! Can i request a tommy one shot imagine where the reader (his girlfriend or wife) finds out in his office, one of the locked drawers has everytning shes ever given to him? Maybe like love letters or random flowers everything he keep 😍🤍 thank you so mych. This request was so amazing to me, because you it made me feel like you understand this character so well? Either way, it made me think, and this is the result. It’s kinda different but I hope you like it! Words: 1448

***

“Tommy?” “Hmm,” the preoccupied reply came. You sounded defeated, against your best efforts, “I love you.” “I know.”

***

There’s blood on his shirt. It’s the first thing you noticed when he walked in. Not the mud, not his eyes, not his energy, just the blood on his shirt.

“Who’s is it,” you asked as casually as you could. Tommy lit a cigarette in reply. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” he drew out the ‘s’ like he usually did when annoyed or tired. “Who was it?” you continued. “Y/N,” he held up a hand, “not tonight, eh? Not with the hundred fucking questions tonight, alright?” You remained silent for as long as you could bear, “Just need to know you’re safe.” “You knew who you married,” a low voice replied. “I did.” Tommy stood up again slowly started to walk away.

“Do not,” you hissed, “walk away from me.” “Y/N, what the fuck do you want from me, eh?” he raised his voice, “This is me. This is who I am. And I’m doing it all to give you everything you want. To keep you safe. Alright?” You leaned forward and tried to lock eyes with him, “What I want, Thomas Shelby, is you. In one piece, preferably.” “I know,” he lowered his voice again, “And I understand.” He waved a hand like he was about to say more, but didn’t. “It’s because I love you,” you emphasized. He nodded slowly, “And that’s why I’m doing all of this.”

***

You were sitting at your desk writing. Some people seemed to think that being married to Tommy Shelby was a fulltime job and it could be if you’d let it, but not for you. Even before Tommy you’d been a writer, a journalist and an author of short stories. Neatly you typed them out and send them to the publishers in question. It was the one thing in life that always offered you solace.

“You spelled ‘enthusiastic’ wrong,” you husband commented helpfully after having popped up suddenly behind you. You ripped the page irritably, “Says the man who never even went to school.” “Life taught me how to spell, Y/N,” he sort of joked. “Life taught youhow to spell ‘enthusiastic’? Can’t remember the last time you were ever enthusiastic about anything…” He raised one eyebrow slowly, “How about ‘sarcasm’, can you spell that? Or ‘devil’, how about that, eh?” You pouted theatrically, “Sometimes I’m not even sure you take me and my work seriously…” “Oh, I take it seriously,” Tommy took a drag from his cigarette, “I know it’s enough to keep my wife away from me.” You smiled back at him when he did, but still a pang of hurt went through you: you’d give up everything just to have him say ‘I’m so proud of you sweetheart’. Just once.

***

“Come on,” he whispered. You looked up. “Come on,” he repeated, cigarette hanging from his lips, “let’s go upstairs.” “Why?” you asked, as you already started to follow him. Once inside the bedroom, he started undressing you with surprising tenderness. “Tommy,” you breathed, “look at me. What is it you want?” As a reply without words he gazed at your body, like he was drinking in very detail and getting drunk at the mere sight of it. “You and me, Tommy,” you said in between kisses, “remember it’s you and me. Fuck the rest of them. Fuck your family. Fuck the whole world. I love you and you love me. It’s you and me and nothing can ever come between us, right?” As he took off his own shirt, he gently pushed you down onto the bed.

“You and me, right Tommy?” you repeated, a little breathless as his head disappeared between your legs. “No,” he finally spoke, “you.”

*** Thomas Shelby had a long day of dealing with renegade family and dangerous enemies, so when he got back home, all he wanted was his wife and some peace and quiet.

“I cooked,” you said as you lingered against the doorpost. Tommy looked tired, worn-out, dead almost, with his head in his hands, “even told the cook to take the evening off,” you commented while your voice sounded flat. It was funny, because your emotions were all over the place, but your exterior just didn’t show any of it.

He slowly lifted his head, “You did, eh?” “Thought you might like it…” you fidgeted in spite of yourself. “I pay that cook for her to actually fucking cook,” he grumbled. “Fine,” you snapped, “I’ll feed it to the dog,” and you started to walk away. “Wait…” “What?” You didn’t even really turn around. Tommy sighed again and for a moment it was like he noticed the disappointment in your eyes, “What did you cook?” “Mint leaves. Your favourite.” And then a minor miracle took place and Tommy Shelby actually smiled a little.

***

“You were late today. I waited.” “I’m sorry.” “Are you?” “I am.” “Do you love me?” “Yes.” “Tell me.” “I do. Every day.” “Not with words…” “No, not with words.” “Tommy, tell me again.” ***

You were still half-asleep in Tommy’s arms. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. Outside, the sun wasn’t up yet, but it wouldn’t take long now.

Next to you, there was a gun on the table. Tommy had just taught you how to shoot. He’d shown you over and over again, even though you’d protested. But he said you might need it one day. On the other side there were his cigarettes and whiskey. His medicine. His comfort. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. But for how long? How long would it be until he’d die by his own gun, or get killed in some fight? Or met some other girl, prettier and smarter than you? As if he could read your insecurities, he shifted in his sleep and hugged you even closer to him. Thomas Shelby might not be perfect or a gentleman or eloquent when it came to expressing his love, but he did hold you at night.

***

“Tommy?” you shouted out through the house, “THOMAS!” “Fucking hell, woman,” his head appeared around the corner, “What is it?” Slightly embarrassed by your own volume, you said, “I can’t find the scissors.” “They’re in my desk somewhere,” he put on his cap and added, “I need to see a man about a horse. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” You made your way to the desk that was always so tidy and neat. So you did as any sensible woman would do and turned over everything in search of a pair of scissors. Nothing. Angrily you threw down a pile of papers. And that’s when you noticed it. One drawer hadn’t been opened at all. When you tried it, you found it locked. But you were a girl from Small Heath and no locked drawer could stop you. In less than twenty seconds you had managed to force the lock en slid the secret hiding place open. Inside there were more papers, neatly stacked and tied together with pieces of string in different piles. Breathlessly you took them from the drawer and examined them one by one. “Still looking for those scissors, eh?” a low voice grumbled in your ear and you practically jumped from fear. “For fuck’s sake, Thomas,” you mumbled as you tried to hide the papers you’d just found. Tommy was eyeing them already, but didn’t say a word.

So you went back through them, “These are the letters I wrote to you, when you were in France. I thought you threw away everything. Your medals, everything…” He didn’t reply. Tears sprang into your eyes as you examined the second pile, “And these are all my short stories. Did you cut them from the papers? Did you really keep them all?” You quickly went through them and they were all there, from the very first one ever published, “And these, my articles…”

Tommy cleared his throat once and cast his eyes down when you looked at him. Lastly there was a small box. When you opened it, you found, “The rose I wore, when we were kids. The one my brother stole…” And now you couldn’t find the words, “I hardly… I didn’t even know you… back then. Why?” Tommy grabbed his case and started searching for a cigarette. “Tommy,” you insisted, “I had no idea. Why did you keep all of these?” “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he smirked lightly. You stared at the content of the secret drawer and decided that nothing was ever obvious when it came to Thomas Shelby. “Well?” you questioned. “I love you.”

*** Masterlist

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #the shelby clan #love language

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songmingisthighs · 3 years

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[19.06] mafia!hongjoong × reader

⇀ you were interested in hongjoong, a notorious leader of a very successful mafia organization. sadly he didn't see you that way. if only he knew the true you before making a rash judgement

⇁ tw : mafia life, angst, mentions of black market activities, death, violence, dark stuff. read at your own risk.

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author’s imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

The door to Hongjoong's office opened and in walked his right hand, with a teasing smirk on his face. Hongjoong looked up from the paperwork on his desk and looked up to the man with a raised eyebrow, "what are you smirking at?" he questioned.

Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door, "there's someone here for you," he said whilst holding onto his laughter. Hongjoong shifted his gaze from his friend to the door and then back to him again, "who?" "your girlfriend," Seonghwa teased.

Before Hongjoong could throw anything at him, though, Seonghwa had run off, laughing heartily.

Not long after, you came into his office with a wide smile. As per usual, you were dressed to impress, head to toe with a black and white vintage channel mini skirt and blazer, adorned with a channel necklace and earrings. As you walked in, Wooyoung, one of Hongjoong's trusted men, looked at your passing figure with mouth hanging low and a starstruck look on his face. But you didn't care, you only had eyes for Hongjoong.

It has been roughly five months since you started dropping into Hongjoong's office. Your dad, an equally highly successful head of the mafia from where you're from, wanted you to get married to expand his business and make more allies. He gave you several options but you were immediately intrigued by Hongjoong, one of the mafia heads he made a partnership with by providing him with weapons. The comprehensive file your dad gave you did Hongjoong no justice so you decided to get to know him for real.

Unluckily, Hongjoong is very secretive and protective of himself and his family (re: his brothers; his most trusted men in the mafia). He had been betrayed so many times before and his thirst for revenge both became his strength and downfall. While he managed to build a highly acclaimed mafia organization at such a young age, he closed off everyone who he deemed not worthy of his attention even after only seeing them for less than five minutes.

Sadly, that included you. You weren't the only one who got a comprehensive file on the other, he too had one of you. A straight-A student from Wharton with hobbies consisting of horseback riding and charity? He wondered whether you were preparing to take over your dad's mafia or to steal the Crown of England and be its ruler.

Hongjoong tried his best to hold in a groan of annoyance but even so, some still escaped him and you heard it. Though you were used to it so you just ignored him.

"Hi, Joong," you grinned widely at him, walking in and putting a medium-sized box of cake on his desk after closing his door. "Don't call me Joong," he grumbled.

In all honesty, your bubblegum personality sickened him. He knows for a fact that no one is that happy-go-lucky and excited and has rainbows shooting out of their asses 24/7. So there has to be something you were hiding from him.

You only chuckled at his response, "You're a sourpuss, you know that? You're gonna have wrinkles before you hit thirty if you keep frowning all the time like that," you said as you focused yourself on opening the cake box.

Inside it was the cake you made for him. All the times you visited him, you never made him something from scratch. You were trained to be the head of a mafia organization one day, not in the kitchen. So that cake was the very first thing you made and you were beyond proud of yourself.

"Look," Hongjoong exhaled sharply, starting to get annoyed even before you did anything, "You came at a bad time, I need to get a hundred thousand things done before tonight, in case you didn't realize, my organization is-" "in the brink of war with Stray Kids, I know, I've read the reports," you simply said, hands moving to cut the cake in front of you to hand to him.

"I have connections with the leader's soft spot, the foreigner one, I can make a deal that would help your case if you would jus-"

"NO!!!!" he yelled out, slamming his hands onto his desk, startling you so much that you accidentally dropped your knife and stepped back a little.

Maybe it was the stress of having to deal with things alone, or maybe it's just him finally snapping from overthinking about you, but one thing's for sure is that he had had enough. He needed to put you in your place.

"You may be your daddy's little princess back home, all dressed in white and pink and lace, showered with Channels, Tiffanys and your hoity-toity prestigious Wharton degree. But here, you're nothing, got me? You understood nothing about having to work your ass off to get the recognition and rewards you deserve, you had your daddy behind you this whole time and that's very convenient for you. But don't come here and act like you know shit, okay? Our worlds are different, you came from a cotton candy palace, I came from the ditch, your opinion means less than shit to me," he spat out so quickly, he didn't realize that your expression changed to something that he had never seen before.

Your eyes were blank and glazed, lips slightly quivering and chest heaving.

Hongjoong thought that he had really put you in your place and he was about to celebrate the fact that he might finally drove you away when you opened your mouth.

"Cotton candy palace? Not understanding having to work my ass off?" you choked out.

At first, Hongjoong thought you were gonna cry. But a sadistic, maniacal laugh resonated in the room from where you were doubled over, holding onto your stomach.

It was Hongjoong's turn to be stunned into silence.

"Oh my god, I thought you were smarter than that," you muttered as you calmed down, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes, "you think that this is who I am?" you asked with a raised eyebrow at him.

Hongjoong was confused about whether or not he should speak. It was the first time anyone had ever stunned Hongjoong and Hongjoong didn't know what to do.

"I was born from a girl who was en route to be sold in a human trafficking ring, I came out premature and was about to be sold to a satanic cult as their sacrifice but my 'dad' 'rescued' me. I was stored in a facility with thirty other children, we were trained to be assassins since before we could walk, brainwashed with ideals that ruined our brains. One by one, each year some of us were taken out if we show a lack of improvement or no promise," as you talked, you took off your earrings and necklace and put them on Hongjoong's desk.

While you ran a hand through your messy hair, you stared into him deeply, "I was seven when I first killed someone, my last competition. She was two years older than me and she was sold by her parents for coke money, or as the warden told us. We were reminded every day of how worthless we are so we wouldn't rebel and escape. But even in despair, I wanted something more. That's where daddy came in. He was impressed with me and he took me in as his daughter, telling people one of his whores were pregnant with me to assure my legitimacy. I was schooled in my own private red room. I had to fight for my right as a human being, I made deals with my dad to be able to go out with bodyguard escorts for only an hour every month,"

Hongjoong's eyes followed your hands that gripped onto the edge of your skirt, "did your little binder wrote that I went on my first official mission when I was just twelve? My dad cut the ballet lesson that I trade in for 120 hours of combat training short to gear me up, put me in a room of adult men and sent me off to plant an active bomb in 5 minutes in an air vent of the headquarters of his rival, crazy, right?" you chuckled humorlessly whilst ripping your skirt off to reveal your black shorts inside, a knife and a gun holstered on your thighs were revealed, making Hongjoond's eyes widened.

He never would have imagined someone like you to carry weapons under your very girly outfit. Or to even have such a traumatizing backstory.

"My whole appearance is compensation for my very dark upbringing, I wanted to hide it all. My dad told me I was stupid, that I belonged in the dark, dark world. But when I went to Wharton, I tried to change myself. I thought that I might be able to be the person I wanna be by marrying someone my dad approved so I don't have to take over wholly, I could just be the voice by the side, lending my skills and help the organization indirectly,"

You looked down at your heels clad feet for a second, letting your toes point and moving them from left to right to see what it looks like.

At this point, Hongjoong felt bad for having blown up at you. You had only wanted to spend time with him and even if he didn't want to see you, he could've said it nicely. Hongjoong never felt like this before, it was very weird for him.

He was about to walk over to you when you suddenly took your heels off in a flash and threw them both at Hongjoong so hard that it embedded deep into the wall on either side of his face.

Your usual smile was replaced with a frown, the eyes that usually twinkled showed nothing but darkness. He barely recognized you and he was on edge about it.

"You made your standing with me perfectly clear, Kim Hongjoong, while my dad is one to stop things before they become an issue, I like to see how things unravel," you smirked at him.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, not being able to process anything.

"It means that your partnership with my dad is off, good luck finding a new weapons supplier," you spat out before turning around to leave the room, leaving traces of yourself behind at his office.

Hongjoong wanted to call after you, try to make things better somehow. But his head still couldn't even wrap around the shocking information you had just revealed.

Not long after you left, Yeosang came in but stopped at the door, scanning the room that was littered with remnants of you. "What the fuck happened here? Did a hooker tried to kill you!?" he asked, still confused at the situation.

When Yeosang looked up, he saw Hongjoong in a way he had never seen him before.

Nervous.

"I-I- I think I just forged a war between us and the largest mafia weapons manufacturer on the eastern hemisphere," he uttered out.

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

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Yeah, Should Have Seen That Coming: Saileen Bachelor Party Ficlet

Congrats to the soon to be Mrs. and Mr. Leahy💚💍!!!

Sam had the brilliant idea to have their bachelorette/bachelor parties on the same night. Two separate parties, at least a week before the wedding to avoid any last minute mishaps (learning from the mistakes of Dean and Cas' party last month). They had thought of everything, Sam even remembered to invite Adam this time. They were each going to have a perfect party with no unforseen issues, because they both deserved a night of fun.

Dean was granted the privilege of being Eileen's best man maid of honor, so he shut down his bar that night, and threw her an absolute rager. He even dragged the stripper pole back out at Eileen's request (though Dean thinks it was a shame Cas wasn't going to be there to use it) and set up a mechanical bull. So of course Cas was chosen to be Sam's best man, and for his party, Sam just wanted a normal, quiet night. Just board games, beer and burgers at the bunker (Crowley was pissed he got stuck at Sam's instead of Eileen's, but Garth was thrilled about the prospect of playing Monopoly). So that's exactly what Cas planned to give him. He makes sure he's got Sam's favorite beer, burgers from the place that makes his favorite vegan burgers, he's taken care of everything. And all Sam has to do is grab the board games from one of the storage rooms.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well, considering Sam and Cas are involved?

Everything.

(read the rest under the cut)

They ended up on a hunt before the party even began. Sam had accidentally bumped into a shelf in the storage room, knocking over a cursed object, and then picked it up without thinking("Sam why did y- "It just looked like a piece of wood!" "It's not, its cursed it's called t-" "Well that doesn't help me now, Cas!"). And so it turned out, they unleashed an ancient curse that if they didn't break by midnight, the world would be "shroud in 5 billion years of darkness". But Sam won't let anyone call Eileen or Dean ("I just don't want to ruin her party!" "Sam the world could en-" "Yeah, but that happens all the time. How often do you get to have a bachelorette party?")

So it was up to Sam, Cas, Jack, Crowley, Garth, and Adam (Kevin was already halfway up the steps and on his way to Dean's bar before Sam even finished explaining what happened).

And a lot can go wrong over a few hours, especially if the threat of the end of world is looming over you.

In the past three hours, they managed to successfully tear apart the entire archives looking for lore, had Jack fly them to three different states to wake up three experts on the subject, fought and killed one of Crowley's old nemesis who had an ingredient they needed for a spell, were briefly transported to a different dimension, twice (Jack was able to get them home, but they had to go back because Garth forgot his phone). Then of course they summoned the wrong ancient god, then had to figure out how to kill them, before they eventually summoned the right one needed to break the curse.

At that point, after some encouragement (yelling) from everyone, Sam finally gave in and tried to facetime and text Eileen, finally allowing Cas to call Dean too.

But neither of them answered because Eileen was currently in the middle of an intense drinking contest between Rowena, Mary and Kevin (who arrived 2 hours ago and mentioned nothing about the curse), while Dean (totally sober mind you) learned he was amazing on the stripper pole, as Charlie, Kaia and Claire cheered him on, and Jo along with some of Eileen's hunter friends were trying out the mechanical bull.

So they were on their own, and quickly running out of time.

But unfortunately for them, the three hours of chaos was a complete waste, since they discovered a bit too late that lore was wrong. Because the weapon that was supposed to kill the God was clearly not working since it seemed to be chasing them around just fine, with a giant stake in it's neck. So they hurriedly decided splitting up would be the best course of action, and they scattered in all directions as they ran into the woods(where they had landed when Jack zapped them back) trying to confuse the God.

Which had been a complete mistake ("It can clone itself!" "Yes, thank you Sam, I hadn't noticed").

And currently, Crowley and Garth were both knocked out by some of the God's clones, and Jack was nowhere to be seen, leaving just Sam and Cas to fight with what they had (2 guns, an angel blade, and half a flask of holy water, so nothing)

Now there was only five minutes until midnight and the God had them surrounded, as it threw their useless guns and blades halfway across the forrest.

And only one thought rang through Sam's mind.

"Eileen is gonna kill me if the world ends before the wedding"

"Well if you hadn't touched th-"Cas started

"Thanks Cas, you really know how to make a guy feel better" Sam yelled back, swiflty cutting him off.

He glanced back up to see the God (who's name Sam had already forgotten) inching closer, holding them in place as they were readying themselves to smite them.

Sam took one last look at Cas and the reality of the situation finally set in. This was it.

All Sam wanted was one normal night, but now the world's ending again and he doesn't even know the name of the God ending it.

They were screwed. Now he'll never see Eileen again and they'll nev-

Suddenly a wooden stake was shoved through the back of the God's neck with a crunch, sending them crumbling to the ground. It burst into black flames, disappearing.

And standing above them in a, 6 inch heels, covered in glow stick bracelets, and a bride sash, was a very tipsy Eileen.

She and Dean helped pull them to their feet, and Sam could cry at the sight of her (and he did).

As soon as he was standing, Sam frantically began rambling and signing trying to explain and apologize all in one breath. But Eileen simply took hold of his hands, stopping him in his tracks.

"You were supposed to use sheep's blood, idiot" Eileen signed with a smirk.

Then she grabbed by the shoulders, yanking him down into a deep kiss.

"Wait how did-where did yo-"Sam started as he broke away. He quickly takes in his surroundings spotting Claire and Kaia helping Garth to his feet, Rowena trying to wake Crowley, and Charlie and Jo who are probably trying to convince Adam not to leave. He finds Dean, Cas and Jack off to the side huddled close together, while Dean probably tells his husband how much of a dumbass he is.

"Jack flew to the bar, and we read through your's and Cas' texts. We were able to piece it together from there, and apparently you guys can't read. Maybe leave the hunting to the pros?" Eileen teased, swaying slightly (okay maybe she was a little more than tipsy). Sam tightly wrapped his arms around her, keeping her steady, as a smile grew on his face.

"I don't deserve you" Sam sighs, cupping her cheek.

"Yeah, you don't" Eileen shrugged with a smirk growing on her lips.

"She's right, you really don't" Dean's voice cuts through as he, Cas and Jack make their way over. Cas punches him in the arm with a fond smile.

"Well, that certainly didn't go as I had planned" Cas huffed.

"Yeah, understatement of the year buddy. But when does it ever?" Sam laughs, feeling a bit of relief.

Then Sam has another brilliant idea, smiling as he turns back to Eileen.

"So my party....was ruined by an ancient God. Mind if we crash your's?"

And an hour later, Cas (much to Dean's delight) is now spinning around on the pole while Dean, Charlie and Jo cheers him on. Crowley, Rowena, Garth and Jack (with a shirley temple of course) are seated at the bar, talking about god knows what. Claire, Kaia, Kevin and surprisingly Adam have just returned from the parking lot, giggling a bit too much. And Sam is now seven shots in, messily making out with Eileen in one of the booths. Eventually they pull away, just sitting in a drunken daze as they stare at each other.

God he can't believe she's gonna marry him. He really is the luckiest man in the world.

And before Sam can relay this sentiment, Eileen downs her glass, signs "watch this", and runs to take a turn on the stripper pole to the thrumming bass.

With a laugh he surveys the bar, watching his family drink and laugh without a care in the world. He spots Eileen and Dean by the pole in the center of the room, heads thrown back in laughter, as Cas and Jack cheers them on. So Sam quickly slides out of the booth and makes his way over, plopping down inbetween Jack and Cas, watching his fiancé and brother dance to the beat like idiots. Heart swelling at the sight of his family.

And yeah maybe this isn't the night they had planned, but it was certainly a night they'd never forget.

(Especially since Cas had shirts made that said, "I survived Sam Winchester's bachelor party")

Tag list:

(Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!!💛)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants @writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog

@rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26 @multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs

@multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @slipper007 @rainbowsam @winchester-novak

#this is just crack literally its crack i had this little idea and it ran away from me #literally its just crack theres not much substance and its not funny but here you go anyway!!!#i have never written saileen before and like ive said in the past dialogue is NOT my forte so im sorry in advance if this bad #ITS TIME FOR A FUCKING WEDDING #THEYRE SO CUTE AND THEYRE GETTING MARRIED #cas IS sam's best man you literally cannot convince me otherwise #dean would literally go ALL out for eileen's party like literally anything she wanted because THEY are best friends #i just needed a sam and cas chaotic adventure bachelor party so here #the world almost ended because they were idiots and they dont even care asfhjadjagsg #saileen wedding #certified safe sam content #eileen leahy #sammy #saileen #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #saileen ficlet #bec writes #ficlet

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supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years

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This Love (part two)

Pairings: Frankie Morales x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v smut, cursing, fluff, fighting.

Summary: Months after admitting your feelings for each other, your relationship with Frankie is stronger than ever. Helena makes a decision that could tear it all down. All good things must come to an end. Right?!

*comments and reblogs appreciated*

You grab the sheet tightly in your hand, a moan escaping your swollen lips.

“Oh god….baby don’t stop…just like that.”

You move your hand to grab at his hair, tugging it harder as you near your release. Almost. Almost. Suddenly his mouth is off you and you sigh in frustration.

“Frankie, baby, I was almost there. Why did you stop. You can’t just wake me up like that and then leave me all wound up.”

He laughs, kissing his way up your thigh, over your stomach and finally meeting your lips in a searing kiss. He grabs his thick cock and strokes himself twice before lining up at your core. In one swift motion he is buried to the hilt inside you, filling you completely. You let out a loud moan.

“Shhhh baby, you gotta be quiet, don’t want to wake Sophia.”

It’s slow, almost lazy and you can feel every ridge, every vein on his thick member. God you love sleepy morning sex with Frankie.

“Didn’t……thrust….let….thrust….you come….before….wanted…ugh….come on…fuck…my cock.”

“Oh god Frankie….harder…please…..too slow.”

With that Frankie began pounding into you over and over. Hitting that sweet spot inside you every time. Your whole body was in ecstasy as you came loudly soaking his cock. With one final grunt Frankie spilled himself into you. He slowly pulled out and went to the en-suite to get a cloth and cleaned you up. Getting back into bed he lays down and pulls you into him.

“God I fucking love you baby.”

“I love you to.” You snuggle into his side.

“So what are the plans today?” He says as he runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“Well Santi is having that barbecue tonight, show off his new girl.”

“Damn forgot about that. Do we have to go?” He says snuggling closer

“Yes, or Santi will come over rip you a new one.”

There is a knock at your door before Sophia comes barrelling in. Jumping on the bed, she leaps on top of Frankie.

“Oof, bebita you gotta go easy, daddy is getting old now” he says tickling her. Once he releases her she crawls over to you.

“Morning baby, have a good sleep?”

“Yeah, am I staying with my abuala today?”

“Yeah baby and your going to stay for a sleepover, is that ok?”

“Yeaah” she hops down and rushes out of the room.

You turn to look at Frankie to find he already has his eyes on you, a look of adoration on his face.

“What?”

“Your just….so good with her, you’ve always been an amazing mother to her, it gets me thinking.”

“Oh no, don’t hurt yourself”, you say laughing.

“Oh you’ve done it now,” he says moving on top of you tickling you.

“Stop…..Frankie please….I can’t take it.” He stops and just stares down at you.

“Let’s have a baby!” Your shocked, having not expected this conversation today.

“Before you say anything, I’ve wanted this with you since that night at the bar. Your amazing with Sophia and she isn’t even yours, you would be an amazing mom. Imagine a mini me or you and Sophia would be the best if sister.” He was rambling now and you decided to put a stop to this, so you kissed him.

“Frankie…”

“It’s ok…we can talk about it again further down the line..” He goes to move off of you but you pull him back. You place your hands either side of his head, looking him deep in the eyes “is this what you really want?”

“Yes, I want it all with you baby.”

“Ok.”

“Ok? As in we’re going to have a baby ok?

“Yes Frankie we can try for a baby.” He plants kisses all over your face, “I love you, your going to be a hot mama, all swollen with my baby inside you.”

“Ok slow down there cowboy, our eldest is awake now and could walk in any minute.”

“Tonight,” he says wiggling his eyebrows at you. He’s dressed and out the door to Sophia before you know it. Lying back on the bed you run your hand down to your stomach, imagining what it will be like carrying Frankie’s baby. You can’t help the smile that spreads over your face.

****

Arriving at Santi’s that evening, Frankie is beaming, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Hermano, glad you could make it, and Y/N, looking stunning as always.” He goes to kiss your cheek but Frankie stops him, “eh no funny stuff, hijo de puta.” They both laugh and hug each other.

“So where is this girl Pope? Or is she all in your head.”

“Nah, she’ll be here soon you’ll see.”

Walking towards the backyard, you spot the Miller brothers arguing over the bbq.

“You got to put it on like this..”

“Hey I know how to cook, back off benny.” Laughing at their antics you walk towards your sister.

“Hey, someone seems extra cheerful tonight”, she says nodding towards Frankie.

“Is he, I hadn’t noticed.” Smiling into your beer.

“You gave him a blowjob on the way over here?”

“He wishes, no we had a chat this morning about the future.”

“Omg…aah, he proposed, I knew it, wait until I tell Will.”

“What that’s not what…”

“Benny owes me 100 .”

“Wait what? You guys bet on this?”

“Ugh…yeah. Come on it’s you and Frankie, I bet he had the ring picked out years ago.”

“Oook, well as much as I would love to be engaged to Frankie, that’s not it.”

“Oh! Well what has him smiling like the cat that got the cream.”

“We’re going to try for a baby.”

“Aaahhhh, I’m going to be an auntie.”

“Keep it down, I’m not pregnant yet.”

Frankie makes his way over to you both, sits down beside you and pulls you into him.

“Hey Jen, how was Mexico?”

“Oh it was amazing, and the food, ugh, I’ve book it again for next year.”

****

Pope’s girl as it turned out, was Yovanna from that job in Colombia. It was a little tense at first but the guys warmed up. As the night was drawing to a close there was a knock at the door. Pope went to answer it and when he came back Frankie went stiff beside you. You turn to him and his face, it was like he saw a ghost. You follow his gaze to see Helena standing in the door to the patio.

“Helena what are you doing here?”

“Not that’s it’s any of your business, but I’m here to see Francisco.” If looks could kill she would be dead from the looks Jen was given her. You move your hand to Frankie thigh and give him a reassuring squeeze. He looks to you and his face softens.

“I gotta go talk to her baby, I owe her that much.”

“You owe her nothing Frankie.”

“Maybe not but I owe it to Sophia, she is still her mother.” Frankie stands and makes his way towards her.

Pope comes to sit beside you, “hermosa are you ok?”

“What if she wants him back Santi? I can’t lose him or Sophia, it would break me.”

“Hey, now you know Fish is smitten with you, your the love of his life, she may be Sophia’s biological mother but your her mom.” You curl into him trying not to cry.

Suddenly raised voices can be heard from inside. Pope turns to you, “hermosa I think you should go in there.”

You leave the group and make your way to Frankie and the closer you get you can make out what’s being said.

“Oh so your going to let that whore raise my daughter, I don’t think so.”

“No. You do not call her that, Y/N is not a whore, that women is my everything and she’s more a mother to Sophia than you will ever be. You abandoned us, don’t forget that, because I never will. If you want to start seeing Sophia, we can discuss it with a lawyer but don’t think for one second that there will ever be anything between you and me, because there won’t. I’ve moved on, I’m happy, I am going to marry Y/N and we are going to build a home together.”

“Oh come on, Francisco…..baby, your telling me you don’t want a piece of this anymore, you don’t want to fuck me again.” Having heard enough you open the door and Frankie pushes Helena off of him. He comes to stand beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Get out Helena, your embarrassing yourself.”

“Fuck you Francisco, this isn’t over.” With that she storm out, slamming he door behind her.

“Baby are you ok?” Frankie turns to you and pulls you into a kiss.

“Yeah baby, I’m fine, I love you.”

“I love you too. She can’t take Sophia away, what are we going to do?”

“Hey , look at me baby, I’m not going to let that happen ok. It’s me, you and Sophia against the world, always.”

“And maybe one more?” You stare at him lovingly and move his hand down towards your stomach.

“Well then we better get working on that then,” he says peppering kisses all over your face.

“Actually..” He pulls back and looks at you expectantly

“Are you…are we…”

“Yeah, we’re about to become a family of four”. Frankie lifts you up and spins you around. “You have just made this old man very happy. I love you, both of you, he says placing his hand back on your stomach.

“Wait until we tell Sophia .”

Previous part

Tagging:

@lunaserenade @asta-lily @day-off-inkyoto @librariantothejedi @anaaaispunk @elinedjarin @maievdenoir @kirsteng42 @loserrlauraa @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dihra-vesa @javierpinme @seasonschange-butpeopledont

*if you want to be added or removed let me know*

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x f!reader

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stillgirlfrommars · 3 years

Text

you’ve got news

So, I already talked about this with @missmorwen and I know I don’t have the time to draw and make an actual comic out of it, BUT I cannot stop thinking about this SamSteve-post-engdame-fix-it story (with a dash of BuckyNat, ‘cause that’s just who I am) which is kinda crack and very rom-com (a bit you’ve got mail) inspired and doesn't make much sense, because... PLOT HOLES but * sigh * I kinda wanna share at least the idea so - bear with me:

So, instead of Nat dying, Steve sacrifices his Captain America powers on Vormir and comes back as Skinny!Steve and starts running a political blog called you’ve-got-news in secret, uncovering all kinds of shady business/corruption and becoming the bane of existence of every politician and greedy CEO - but it takes a while for his friends to figure out it's him who’s running that increasingly popular blog (which the new Captain America is actually a big fan of ;)). And the way that happens is as follows:

So, Steve almost died at the end of Endgame. The idiot (affectionate) of course still wanted to fight Thanos, but even with Thor’s Hammer, he took some serious, serious injuries which led to a tough talk with Sam, Nat and Bucky

Like I imagine, that while Steve would not have any regrets whatsoever about giving up his powers, he would still need some time to come to terms with the fact that he won’t be able to participate in the action like he used to. Even though, he actually wants and knows... it’s time to ... start something new, it’s still a process. So, there he is, trying to figure out who he is without the mantle of Captain America, re-defining the way he can and will fight against bullies in the future (cause there is no way he’s gonna stop that).

And to the surprise of everyone, Steve actually doesn’t press for participating in Avenger-style-fights anymore (he still does some of the practical mission planning and shit like that) but most importantly, he starts taking up new hobbies, like cooking or old hobbies like drawing - and he seems happier than he has in a long time, and yeah maybe it’s a bit too good to be true, if Sam starts thinking about it. But, hey, Steve finally seems to be happy so -

Meanwhile, Sam still becomes the new Captain America, and Steve is there while he is adjusting, finding himself in that role. He is there when Sam needs to talk things through, and yeah, it would still be a process like in tfatws series, but ... a little bit less alone, I guess.

So, the new Captain America fights alongside Nat and Bucky - and it’s good, they work surprisingly well together, but also: those two are stuck right in the middle of a weird assassin!flirting situation (I’m imagening a lot of veeery intense staring at the other while cleaning their weapons or beating someone up, innuendos en masse, dark humour etc.). And frankly, it’s getting on Sam's nerves because they seem to be so oblivious about the whole damn thing. Neither of them is actually admitting to anything, no, they are too busy teasing him about the ‘crush’ he has developed on that mysterious dude who is running the famous political-youve-got-news-blog that gained momentum a while ago and is currently keeping all the corrupt politicians and CEOs on their toes.

So, yeah, Sam might have been caught a couple of times reading or reciting from that blog because - it has actually turned into a pretty efficient way of mobilising people to demonstrate for change and it did give him some tip-offs in regards to who the bad guy really was and yeah. But it’s not a crush... Sam just really likes reading the blog posts, okay. That dude seems pretty cool and they share the same moral code, so... whatever.

What Nat and Bucky and Steve don't know (and he’ll never tell them), is that Sam is actually kiiiiinda already frequently talking with the guy who runs the blog. Anonymously on both ends, of course (because for good reasons both of them are pretty careful about giving away information concerning their identities). And in a way that whole anonymity-thing makes it a lot easier to talk about stuff he finds harder to admit to the people who he knows directly. So, you could say, blog-guy has kinda become Sam's internet friend, but not his crush, no.

Honestly, the crush he is more concerned about (that he also isn't planning on telling anyone about any time soon, cause Bucky would just tease him and Nat would start scheming) is, well, it’s Steve. Because, damn, he likes their get-togethers a lot, the meals Steve's cooking are honestly to die for. They watch baseball together, they do museum-trips... And the way they can talk about (almost) everything... He just feels understood and... yeah, loved (maybe not in the way that he wishes for, but still) and it’s nice to see Steve so happy and okay, maybe it’s getting a bit out of control because Sam took Steve with him to visit Sarah and his nephews and Sarah kinda saw right through his act of ‘hey, this is my best friend’ and ‘what do you mean, I don’t have feelings- okay. Yeah maybe I do’ and told him in no uncertain terms to fucking do something about it and get his shit together.

The thing is, he’s got it bad. But Sam is also torn, because this is the best fucking friendship he's ever had and he does not want to jeopardise that. So, in the end he ends up talking about this with his Internet friend... about how he kinda has this huge crush on his best friend, and his Internet friend is like, ‘TELL ME ABOUT IT, big fucking same here UGH. And I feel like I’m being SO obvious about it all. It’s honestly embarrassing. My other best friend keeps teasing me ‘bout it and tells me to just go for it, but that guy still hasn’t managed to ask out the girl he’s interested in, so, what does he know, right?’. And Sam laughs - at least he’s not alone.

So the days go by (Sam’s pining only increases, Steve took him to a wine tasting the other night and he almost... in his drunk state... almost... but he didn’t) until one day, while blog-guy and Sam are chatting, all of the sudden the blog-guy is like, ‘Shit, I think someone's breaking into my apartment’ and then like, ‘Okay, yes they are’ - and Sam's like, ‘call 911′, and blog-guy writes back ‘mmh think I can handle them’ (and Sam’s like ‘WTF... I know way too many people with zero regards for their own well-being, myself included’)

But then blog-guy is not answering anymore, so Sam frantically calls up Nat who rushes to his flat and Sam says: ‘You need to find out where that IP adress is located ASAP - the dude with that famous blog is in danger.’

And Nat does that multitasking thing where she’s working on the problem while ribbing Sam about the fact that, apparently, Captain America's Internet bestie is that famous blog dude, and- 'Are you sure it’s not a crush?'

But after another minute, Nat sighs and is like, ‘I can't find the location, this thing is encrypted af, it’s impossible.’ Suddenly, she notices something about the setup of the encryption and-, ‘Hang on a second, it was me who set this up for someone back in 2011.′ And as she slips on her jacket, she says to Sam, ‘Come on. I know where we have to go!’

So they make their way to what turns out is Steve's (!!!!) apartment and find him in the middle of a fight against over half a dozen heavily armed people, and yeah - he’s actually doing pretty okay for himself ‘cause he outsmarted a couple of them, but also- they kind of outnumber him, so Nat and Sam get to work.

And Sam doesn't even have time to fully register what that means re:blog-guy until they have successfully defeated the bad guys. After that's done, Steve is like, ‘Thanks guys, but how the hell did you know I was in trouble? Nat... you didn’t bug my apartment, did you??’

And Nat tstsk and then she just laughs because this is priceless and OF CoURSE it is Steve who is behind that blog... (she's a bit mad at herself for not figuring it out sooner, and a bit sad that Steve didn't feel like he could tell her, and that he assumes she has is flat bugged but, also,... kinda impressed.) But then she looks at him with a warm smile on her face, shaking her head, saying, ‘No, I didn’t, Steve.’ Her gaze wanders back and forth between Steve and Sam and she humms- 'That actually makes so much sense oh my god.' So, she leaves them ‘to talk’ ;) and for Sam to explain everything’ - and then it’s just the two of them.

And Sam does explain everything and is like, 'So you're that Blog dude, erm...' He's scratching the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, 'Turns out, we've been talking for months over that blog of yours. I'm (insert-Sam’s-username-here).'- and Steve's eyes go wide and you can literally see him processing that information right then and there and he's sputtering out a light laugh, and he's like 'Hang on a second... I... umm, okay, I gotta ask. So, that best friend you've got a crush on...' Well, it’s now or never -'Is you, yeah..', Sam admits and starts, 'and....' They both laugh again and Steve nods and just says- 'yeah, it’s you, too.'

And then they kiss and yaaay, happy ending!!!

And then the epilogue would be about them having a nice dinner with Bucky and Nat a couple of months later, and the whole time, Sam and Steve are being very much in loveTM. The three guys are standing in the kitchen, while Natasha is in the bathroom and Bucky's making a funny quib about how sickeningly cute Sam and Steve are together - and Sam, well, Sam just raises his eyebrows and is like, 'You know what, you're not allowed to say anything bout that, you and Romanoff have been acting waaaaay worse over the last year. At least we got our shit together in the end, what's your excuse, you are obviously absolutely in love with her!', and of course Nat chooses that exact moment to enter the room, hand on Bucky's waist, dropping a kiss on his cheek and is like, 'What do you mean, we've been dating for 6 months?' And Steve laughs and Sam groans bc .... he loves his friends, he does, but clearly, CLEARLY they ALL have to work on their communication skills!

The End.

#samsteve #buckynat #endgame fix it #Sam Wilson #Steve Rogers #Skinny!Steve #I know it's stupid and cheesy but everything else in my life feels a bit too much at the moment so I needed something cute to think about #Seriously though if anyone wants to use this as a prompt to draw or write... please do

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterFive

Read on AO3 (EN) ///// Ler no AO3 (PT)

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, cursing, blood.

Words so far: 28,055 (did not include this chapter)

tags: @mionemymind

"God Bless Oil"

When you slept, you dreamed of Wanda, the best sleep you have had in many weeks. When you opened your eyes again, it was morning. And judging by the noise in the camp, everyone was already up. It took you a moment to remember that you were going to rob a train today.

- Hey sleepyhead, you need to hurry up. - Nat said as she entered your tent, you were getting up, and frowned as you watched her walk toward your trunk, clearly looking for something.

- Good morning! - you said, stretching. - What are you looking for?

- Socks.

You laughed, and reached out to the space between the corner of your bed, where you began to hide your socks precisely because Natasha was in the habit of stealing them. You held out a pair to her, and she made an expression pretending to be offended by your hiding place. She sat down beside you on the bed, throwing the boots she was carrying on the floor.

- You look happy. - She commented as she put on her socks. You shrugged your shoulders, trying to cover it up. She laughed. - No way, sis. Whats the deal with that smirk?

You got out of bed, laughing lightly as your cheeks flushed. You were about to tell her what happened, but Pietro stumbled into your room, looking excited as he buttoned his shirt.

- Does anyone have a little bit of hair pomade? My hair is a disaster today. - He comments, causing Nat to frown.

- Are you trying to look attractive for a robbery? - She hits back, he shrugs.

- I am already attractive. I just wanted to look more presentable.

You and Nat laugh at the comment, and you push him out of the tent, informing him that he had used up all of your supply, but that Thor would probably have some hair pomade.

Nat finished putting on her boots and approached you.

- We'll talk later, young lady. - She warned you with a smile, before leaving.

You rolled your eyes with amusement, walking towards your trunk in search of clothes more suitable for a robbery.

Tucking your hat on your head, you walked towards the main campfire, where most of the gang members were having their coffees. You exchanged a glance with Wanda, smiling shyly at her as you picked up some bread from the supply wagon, she smiled back at you tenderly.

- Attention everyone! - Steve announced, standing in front of his own tent, where everyone could see him. - I hope everyone rested well tonight. - He paused to check his watch. - We'll be leaving in a few minutes, so finish your coffee, and get your weapons from the wagon with Bucky. If you have anything else to pick up, hurry up!

Pietro imitated an army reference as Nat shouted "Yes, Captain" drawing laughter from everyone. Steve also smiled as he signaled with his fingers that he was "keeping an eye" on the mischief of the two.

You wiped the bread crumbs off your clothes before walking towards the ammunition wagon, joining the small line to get the guns. Bucky smiled at you when it was your turn, and handed you a springfield rifle, at which you looked at him in surprise.

- I thought I was going to get a Lancaster. - You commented but Bucky made a sound with his mouth of disagreement, writing something down in his small notebook before looking at you.

- We lost almost all of them in the fire. And besides, I thought you'd be fine with your two revolvers.

You shrugged, thanking him for the gun before leaving the line. You slung the rifle over your back, and walked toward the entrance to the camp, where Steve was already waiting for the others beside Peggy.

- Everything okay? - He asked as soon as you reached him, and you smiled and nodded your agreement.

While you were fixing the Knight's saddle, the others were joining you.

Nat tipped your hat jokingly as she passed you, heading for her own horse. You were about to give her a poorly crafted reply, but you spotted Wanda and Pietro walking to the area, and the answer died in your throat. You looked away quickly, mounting Knight.

When everyone arrived, Steve mounted on his brown sorrel before speaking:

- That's it, folks. I wish us all to ride safely. - He spoke in a serious tone, assuming a posture of leadership. - Take care of each other out there.

Everyone nodded in agreement, and you watched Peggy lead the way for her group. You turned your head to the side, only to watch Nat signal the way your group should go.

You would like to say that you rode in silence, but as soon as you were within a few yards of the camp, Pietro's out-of-tune singing filled your ears. You and the girls laughed, but he continued singing at full volume.

- Good Lord! - Nat grumbled, but soon Monica joined in the singing. And Nat laughed before joining in their song.

- I got a girl in Valentine likes to drink that fancy wine. - sang Pietro accompanied by Nat and Monica, while you and Wanda laughed at the lack of rhythm.

The ride was a mixture of laughter and singing, but as you approached the meeting place, the mood changed quite a bit, and you fell silent. You covered your face with the mask, lingering your gaze on Wanda's masked face.

Nat signaled that you had reached the place where you, Pietro and Wanda would be staying to let her know that the train was moving, and you held out your hand to her, giving her a warm handshake before she rode off with Monica. You tried to swallow your nervousness.

- Are you ready for this, girls? - Pietro tried to look nonchalant, but his gaze showed his nervousness. You exchanged a look with Wanda before nodding.

- It's not the first time we've stolen a train. - You joked, but you couldn't see your friends' smiles because of the mask.

- I bet I can do better shooting than you. - Pietro exclaimed after a moment, making you laugh. - Are you doubting me?

- Please, Pietro. We both know that Wanda is going to hit a lot more shots than both of us put together. - You declared, and Pietro laughed, poking his sister in the ribs, who just shrugged with a smug look.

- Don't you ever stop moving? - complained Wanda after a moment, you observed Pietro almost hanging off the horse, trying to fuss with the aforge.

- I'm usually the one who's driving. - He retorts, and Wanda rolls her eyes.

- If you try to ride Hex, he'll knock you down in a second. - You say ironically, Wanda nods in agreement, but Pietro just shrugs.

- Wouldn't I have some kind of twin advantage? - he joked. - Maybe he trusts me to tame him.

- Pietro, shut up. - Wanda said, and you laughed, thinking it was a joke. But then you noticed the redhead's raised eyebrows, and looked straight ahead. Pietro spoke again, and then you asked him to shut up. An explosion noise was heard in the distance afterwards.

- What the fuck was that? - Pietro exclaimed, and you advanced with Knight toward the train tracks.

- Stay here, okay? - You say, getting ready to ride. - I'll go investigate.

- What, no way! - Wanda exclaimed, but you heard a second explosion. Feeling your chest fill with concern, you turned around one last time before leaving.

- Just stick to the plan, okay? I just need to make sure that Steve is okay.

And you rode at high speed in the direction the train was supposed to come. It didn't take long before you spotted the oil fields, startled by the black smoke that was visible in the sky. As you got closer, you could hear the sound of gunfire, and then you came down the small hill and could see the conflict.

You couldn't tell where all those men had come from, but noticing their green uniforms, you identified them as O'Driscoll. It was easy to understand that they had decided to attack the factory after all. You noticed the black carriages that belonged to Howard Stark, completely surrounded by guards, but your gaze was searching for Steve.

You were startled when Wanda suddenly appeared riding beside you.

- Shit, girl, you scared the hell out of me! - You shouted as you rode into the conflict.

- I can't believe you actually thought I was going to let you fight alone. - She said in a tone of mixed seriousness and teasing, and you rolled your eyes in mock amusement.

Then you identified Peggy, still mounted, shooting at what you imagined to be the factory guards.

- Steve! Steve! - she shouted, and you felt your chest sink. You couldn't see him in the confusion either. You, Wanda and Pietro finally reached her, and she seemed relieved to see you all right.

- What the hell happened here? - Pietro asked.

- The O'Driscolls came shooting in the middle of the negotiation! - Peggy explained, shouting so that you could hear her between shots. - They surrounded the factory from all sides, and someone shot Howard Stark!

- Where's Steve? - you asked, trying to find him in the crowd.

- He went to Bucky. - Peggy said with concern in her voice. She looked away from you to take aim with the rifle she was holding, and fired in the direction of the guards. At the distance you were standing, no one was shooting back.

- Right. - You nodded before sending Knight toward the gunshots. You heard Peggy yelling for you to come back, but you could only think of Steve.

You skirted the field, heading toward the factory, while drawing one of the revolvers. Knight was getting very agitated by the noise, so you tried to calm him down with words of affirmation.

As your proximity increased, the enemies began to notice you. You didn't want to risk using your rifle while mounted, so you took them on with your revolvers, while keeping Knight at high speed to avoid the shots. You succeeded in most of the shots, without really absorbing the images of the open wounds and the bullets going through the skin of those you shot. It was a war in the open, and when you felt a gunshot graze your ear, you began to really worry about Steve's safety. You ducked your head as you sent Knight toward the entrance of the factory, but then you felt your body being thrown forward, knocking you off your horse. You rolled on the ground for a few meters, and let out a grunt of pain when you finally stopped. Blinking in confusion, you looked around, getting up with difficulty. Nothing broken, you checked.

You lost your breath next, feeling a great impact on your stomach that you eventually realized was a punch. A man knocked you to the ground, the black uniform of a factory guard. You struggled against him, and he had an angry expression as he tried to choke you. You got out of your grip by kneeing him in the balls, and he fell over onto his side in pain. You hurried to get up, but when you reached for your pistol, you saw that your holster was empty. As you reached for your revolver in the secondary holster, someone grabbed you from behind, one arm choking you by the neck.

You tried to let go, unable to breathe properly as you raised your hand to try to pry the arm around your neck, but the guard holding you would not let go. The man you kicked started to get up.

Then you heard two shots, and the grip loosened. You fell to your knees, coughing with shortness of breath, before your breathing normalized. Both men fell to the ground with a thud, and you looked around in confusion. Wanda and Pietro stood side by side, each with their pistols raised in the direction you were standing.

- Are you all right there, dear? - teased Pietro.

You smiled at them, but before you could mutter a thank you, other shots rang out nearby, and you rushed to grab your fallen revolver a few inches away. You sought shelter to avoid the shots, and crouched side by side against a block of wood.

- They're heading for the train! - shouted a male voice, and then you watched as a large group of guards ran toward the checkpoint, which was a few meters in front of the factory, in the opposite direction from you. But the members of the O'Driscoll gang seemed to spring up from the ground, and resisted the guards with many shots.

You looked around, and finally spotted Steve. His blond hair showing through the factory window. You imagined that he had found a good place to avoid the gunfire inside.

- Steve is inside. - You told the twins. - Cover me.

And then you rolled to the side, ducking as you ran toward the factory door. The guards continued to shoot at the O'Driscolls, and didn't seem to make any difference who wasn't in the gang, shooting at anything that moved. Wanda and Pietro provided good cover, since you didn't get shot.

Entering the factory, you ran to where Steve was standing, frowning at the trail of blood on the floor. You completely lost your breath at the image you saw.

Steve was hiding against one of the machines, trying to shoot some guards that were on the opposite side of the room. Bucky was on his lap, unconscious, the blood pooling around him, his left arm pierced by something that looked like a piece of iron. You fell to your knees in front of them, raising your hands, which were trembling badly, to Bucky.

- Steve... What happened to him? - You asked, and only at this proximity you noticed the dry tears on his cheeks.

- He'll be fine, Y/N. - Steve replied, and then he finally hit the last guard of the factory, and the gunshot noises were only outside now. Steve stood up, trying to lift Bucky. - Come on, help me carry him.

You helped him, and Steve hung Bucky by his healthy arm on his shoulders. You noticed that he was not unconscious only when he let out a loud groan of pain.

- We have to get out of here. - Steve grumbled as you walked through the factory. - They shot the horses.

- Where are you going? - You exclaimed as you saw him walking in the opposite direction from where you had come, directly into the area where the conflict was most intense. You heard again the sound of an explosion, which shook the entire factory.

- The train, Y/N. - He explained. - It's our only way out of here. Take my gun, make way for us.

Steve handed you his own Litchfield, and you took a deep breath before opening the factory door. Looking around, you noticed a small group of guards trying to set up a barrier against the advancing O'Driscolls in the outpost area.

You were trying to decide how exactly you were going to shoot twenty other people without dying, when you heard a much larger explosion happen and you were thrown back into the factory with the impact.

- What the hell? - You grumbled, trying to stand up again, and then you felt someone lift you off the ground.

- They're setting the oil on fire. - Pietro explained, helping you up, Wanda by your side. - We have to get out of here fast.

- We have to get to the train. - You told them, moving towards the factory door again. Now you could see the flames growing around the place. The guards that had once been near the door had scattered all over the place, trying to get away from the fire.

- The way to go is to shoot everything that moves. - commented Pietro, joining you at the door. You nodded. - Is our bet still on? - He added in a playful tone, and you rolled your eyes, not answering.

And then you left the factory, you and Pietro in front, shooting anyone who looked like they wanted to kill you. Wanda covered the rear so that Steve could carry Bucky to the train, which was stopped at the post.

Despite all the shooting, you finally arrived at the station, and Steve rushed to load Bucky into one of the wagons, while you, Wanda and Pietro shot the few guards inside the transport.

The guards at the factory were too busy with the O'Driscolls burning everything around them to notice you boarding the train.

Thor came up to you next, completely covered in soot and blood, but still mounted on his white sorrel. He made it across the field to the post.

- Someone killed Stark. - He shouted. You looked at him with shock, but hurried to get on the train.

- Thor, did you see where Peggy was? - you asked.

- No! - He retorted, and then turned his horse's reins so that it was headed in the direction of where you last saw Peggy. - I haven't seen her since the first explosion, I'm going back to check on her!

And he rode away. You ran to the wagon in which Steve had placed Bucky lying on one of the benches.

- I think they killed the driver too. The train looks empty. - You told Steve. But he didn't seem to be listening at all, completely disturbed by Bucky's state. But then he blinked and turned to you, standing up.

- I'll get the train moving. Just... take care of him, okay?

You nodded in agreement, and he left the cab, running toward the front of the train.

When the engine started moving, the guards still tried to shoot at you, but you were already out of range. You figured that the only reason none of the guards were following you on horseback was because of the remaining O'Driscolls in the factory, who seemed determined to burn the whole place down.

You let out an exclamation of relief when you saw Thor and Nat's horses approaching. Both riding together with Peggy and Monica respectively.

Steve stepped out of the driver's cab into an open wagon, intending to talk to them.

- You need to get out of here! - Peggy shouted. - There were soldiers in Stark's caravan. They will hunt the heads of anyone who is in the area.

- Get back to camp! - Steve shouted at the same height so that he could be heard over the wind. - You've got to get everyone out of there!

- Where are we going, Steve?

- Stephen! Ask Stephen for a safe place.

Peggy nodded, and then Thor swung the reins of his horse, and they rode off toward the camp. Nat glanced at you before following them, and you tried not to worry so much, repeating to yourself that she would be fine.

You ran into the driver's cab, finding Steve trying to turn the train around.

- What are you going to do? - You asked, watching as he tried to push the mechanical steering wheel with difficulty, which you found strange. And then your gaze lowered a little and you noticed the deep cut on his waist. - My God, Steve, what is that?

He grumbled, but didn't move his hands away. You rushed to help him turn the wheel, before allowing him to lean on your shoulders, and you led him back to the same spot where Bucky had been.

Wanda and Pietro looked at you with worried expressions, but you only said that Steve had a cut on his stomach.

- I need to stop the bleeding, okay? - you said to Steve, who just shook his head in agreement. You took off your jacket, using it to press on the open wound.

Seeing him like that, and hearing the low moans of pain from Bucky in the next seat, brought a wracking feeling to your stomach. Your hands began to shake, and your eyes filled with tears, as you tried to normalize your breathing and not cry. Steve realizing your state, raised his hand to shake yours, a tender but tired smile on his face.

- It's okay, Y/N. - he whispered. - We'll both be fine.

You shook your head, feeling a tear run down your cheek. Steve looked very pale, and you couldn't stop staring.

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you let out a sigh, startled a little. Wanda crouched down beside you.

- Let me do it. - She said in a low tone, noticing your nervousness. You shook your head in denial.

- It's okay, Wands. I... - Your voice came out completely broken. Wanda moved your hands

- Look for the supply wagon with Pietro. - She asked, the hand that had been on your shoulder caressing your face lightly, wiping away the tears that had run down your face. - I'll take care of it.

You shook your head, unable to say anything. Getting up in shock, you walked to the end of the train car, finding Pietro waiting for you at the door. He gave you a warm smile, and you tried to focus on that and not on the urge to turn around and go back to Steve.

You walked in silence the entire length of the train. As you looked around, your breathing calmed down, and you felt less terrified. When you finally reached the supply wagon, and started going through the lockers, Pietro joked that you really did rob a train after all, and you were able to laugh softly.

After a moment, Pietro let out a happy exclamation, and you turned to him curiously.

- Damn, finally! Here, look, these are medical supplies. - He said as he divided some items among you two.

You were leaving the cabin when you heard a strange noise. You frowned and exchanged a look with Pietro before drawing your revolver and walking toward the source of the noise: the large closet in the corner of the wagon.

Pietro shouted in fright when a man fell out. You stumbled backwards, torn between punching Pietro for being so outrageous, or shooting the stranger. You ended up waiting for the stranger to manifest himself.

- Maybe it's a ghost. - Pietro commented, and you rolled your eyes. The man seemed to be faking a faint.

- I will shoot you in the head if you don't say something in the next two seconds.

This seemed to stimulate the stranger enough, who stood up quickly, with his hands on his head. He must have been Steve's age, but he was very well dressed, and had a well-groomed beard. You gave him a sharp look.

- Damn, sorry, sorry. - He said. - I was hiding.

- Are you going to tell me who you are, or can I throw you off the train now?

The man turned pale, but hurried to answer.

- My name is Anthony Stark. - said the man, and you widened your eyes in surprise. - I wouldn't want to be thrown off my own train.

Pietro laughed at the joke, but you looked at him reprovingly, and he shut up.

- What were you doing hiding in the closet of your train, Mr. Stark? - you questioned him, and he felt comfortable enough to lower his hands.

- Well, you and your friends blew up an oil field on top of my carriage, and I was dragged to safety by my security guards. - He explained, putting his hands in his pockets.

- I didn't know Stark was bringing his son into the negotiation. - Commented Pietro, and you watched Tony's expression change at the mention of his father. You almost sympathized with him.

- We're not the ones who attacked you in the camps. - You said, but Tony looked at you suspiciously.

- But it is you who are stealing my train.

- We are running away on your train.

- And that's different from stealing, how exactly?

You smiled at the argument. Then you rolled your eyes, putting away your revolver.

- We don't have time for this. - You declared, turning toward the exit and starting to walk toward the next wagons. You heard Pietro and Tony accompany you. It took a moment for Tony to question what exactly you were going to do with what you were carrying, and Pietro explained that you had two wounded. Tony let out an exclamation.

- I can help with that. I am a doctor.

- Why would you help people who are robbing your train? - you asked suspiciously. Tony just shrugged his shoulders.

- I wouldn't like to be thrown onto the tracks. - He says simply.

Arriving at the destination wagon, you rush to put the items down before walking over to Steve, being glad that he was still awake. You look at Bucky, who is still groaning, but conscious.

- Who is this? - Wanda asks as soon as Tony enters the wagon.

- Tony Stark. - You answer, and ignore her surprised look to pull Tony toward Steve. - Here are your patients, Doctor Stark.

- Okay, this is really bad. - He comments as soon as he catches his eyes on Bucky. He keeps muttering to himself before looking at you with an expression of pity and seriousness. - I'm sorry, I'm going to have to amputate.

Steve turns his head to the side quickly, and you feel a wave of nausea in your stomach.

Seeing that everyone is in shock, Tony continues.

- I know it's not what anyone wants to hear, but I need to amputate his arm soon. He has already lost too much blood. - And then he stood up, looking for something. He grabbed an empty suitcase from one of the compartments, and carried it toward Bucky. - I need a knife.

Pietro asked him to wait, and ran toward the supply wagon, returning a short time later, a saw in his hands.

You blinked in horror at the weapon, but Pietro shrugged, saying:

- I've seen a doctor do this once before.

- Yes yes, that's better than a knife actually. - Tony commented and then he crouched down next to Bucky. - Hey buddy, this is going to hurt a lot. - He said as he moved Bucky's arm over the bag he had picked up. Bucky was already grunting loudly in pain from the movement. - I wouldn't stand by and watch if I were you.

- I'll keep an eye on him, if you like. - Pietro suggested, and you and Wanda nodded, stepping out of the car. You were feeling extremely disturbed by the whole situation.

You stared at the landscape at high speed, leaning against the railing of the open wagon, And then you felt your whole body tremble when Bucky's first screams could be heard. You bowed your head, closing your eyes. Wanda stood next to you, and reached your hand over the railing and intertwined your fingers together, trying to calm you. It didn't help much when the sounds continued, but it was better than being alone.

And then the screaming stopped. You let out a sigh. You gave Wanda's hand one last squeeze before letting go, turning toward the wagon door.

You didn't look at Bucky, the sight of Stark covered in blood made you too queasy. Tony wiped some of the blood from his face and arms with a towel before ducking toward Steve.

Steve grumbled at getting stitches, but it was all much cleaner than with Bucky. And then in a few minutes, Tony was finished.

- I think you guys should get some rest now. - he says, but Steve lets out a hoarse laugh.

- Our stop is approaching. - Steve says with irony. He gets up with difficulty, refusing Pietro's help, and you roll your eyes at how proud he can be. He walks out of the wagon, looking around, and then heads toward the driver's cab. You follow him, frowning in concern.

- Steve, what are you doing? - you ask.

- Come, here. Help me stop the train. - He asks, ignoring your question. You look around, and are confused to realize that you are in the middle of nowhere, this track route you didn't know. But you approach and help him to stop the locomotive.

As the train comes to a stop, you watch the scenery intently.

- Are we still in New Hanover? - you ask and Steve laughs lightly.

- Of course we are. - He says. - We're not that far from Emerald Ranch. If you walk a little further you will notice that we have reached the edge of the tracks.

- Oh, we're close to the Roanoke Ridge area. - You say, finally locating yourself. Steve nods in agreement.

You walk back to the wagon where everyone was, and you realize that with the train at a stop, it is much easier to keep your balance.

Steve approaches Bucky, stroking his hair, but the man is asleep. He crouches down to carry him, but Pietro says that he and Stark can handle it. Steve tries to argue, but eventually gives in.

- Do you have any idea where we are going to camp? - Wanda asks Steve and he laughs, ruffling her hair.

- I wouldn't bring you to the middle of nowhere without tents or food, kids. - He jokes, but seeing the disbelieving looks on their faces, he pretends to be offended. - I am hurt by the lack of trust this gang has in me.

You roll your eyes with irony, and Wanda smiles at you.

When you get off the train, Steve leads the way, and it takes a few minutes before he speaks again.

- Bucky and I used to hunt bears in this region. - He said. - Before the gang, of course. When we were in the army.

Everyone was silent as they listened to Steve telling the story, maybe it was tiredness. You guessed that the only reason Pietro didn't interrupt with a joke was because he was busy trying to carry Bucky.

- There was an abandoned cottage around here. - he says. - In the war, anywhere would do for shelter, but finding a place like that was big luck. - Steve looks around for a moment, probably trying to remember the right direction. - It was simple, but extremely cozy. But after we formed the gang, and you kids came, there was nothing left to keep us down south. So we traveled to New Austin and this place was forgotten for good.

- You guys like to tell stories, don't you? - remarked Tony in a tone of debauchery, you startled slightly, having forgotten that he was present. Steve looked at him with disapproval, but didn't say anything.

You walked a little longer, silent except for the sound of Steve's whistling, and then he stopped walking.

- Finally! - complained Tony.

Steve pulled back a long pine leaf that blocked the view from the front, and then you could see the little brown cottage a few meters away from where you were standing.

It was covered with leaves, almost completely hidden among the forest. You wouldn't have seen it if you hadn't been looking directly at it. It was a simple construction, and small, with at most two or three rooms. You smiled as you noticed the lake surrounding the garden.

You walked toward the place, and Steve forced open the door, checking to see if the place really was empty. He entered the cottage, and returned a moment later smiling, and signaling for you to come in.

You were surprised to notice that there was furniture, all covered with white sheets. Steve really used to use this place. You noticed that it was larger than it looked from the outside. The room was well lit, and there was even a window in the ceiling. There were two bedrooms, which extended to the back, which is why you could not see them from the outside. The bathroom was shared between them.

- This place is amazing, Steve. - Pietro remarked as he put Bucky down on the bed in one of the bedrooms. - But I have to ask, nobody died here, right? I hate ghosts.

Steve laughed, denying it with his head.

- This will do for a few days. - He said as he looked around the cabin. - At least until Bucky is well enough to travel.

- How are we going to find the gang? - Wanda asked.

- Peggy knows about this place. - He replied. - When they find a new place, I'm sure she'll write to us.

- Do the letters even get here? - you asked ironically, making Steve laugh.

- Well, you're very funny today. Of course there is mail here.

You laugh and exchange a mischievous look with Wanda and Pietro.

- Now if you don't mind, why don't you try hunting our dinner? - Steve suggests, and you understand that he actually wants the three of you to leave, and you know exactly why. - I'll have a word with Mr. Stark.

- Doctor. - Tony corrects, but Steve ignores him.

You, Wanda and Pietro obey, walking out of the cabin. Now that you are safe, you let out a sigh of relief.

- Do you think he will stay with us? - asked Pietro as soon as you were outside.

You shrugged.

- I think Steve is going to ask him to stay. - Said Wanda, and you and Pietro looked at her curiously. - Stark saved Bucky's life.

- Stark thought it was us who set fire to the oil fields. - You said. - He must think that we are also the ones who killed his father.

- Damn, this is bad. - added Pietro. - If he thinks we killed his father, he will surely denounce us. And he's already seen our faces very clearly.

- We'll have to trust Steve. - You said, shrugging your shoulders. - We have to believe that he will be able to convince Tony of the truth.

Wanda and Pietro nodded in agreement, and you spent a moment in silence, before you told them that you should look for dinner.

- Let's have some fun then. - says Pietro as he reloads his own gun. - Whoever finds food first, or whoever brings the best hunt, wins.

- Sorry but what prize do you have to offer? - You mock.

- You know, greed is such a sad thing. - Pietro returns in the same tone, making you and Wanda laugh. - Besides the incalculable fun I'm offering, the winner gets to choose the prize.

- You're out of ideas, aren't you? - Wanda sneers, and Pietro shrugs, laughing in agreement.

- Do you accept the conditions? - He asks, pretending to be serious. You roll your eyes humorously, but agree, being accompanied by Wanda. Pietro jumps up and down with excitement. - Let the hunt begin!

He shouts and rushes forward. You and Wanda laugh before running off in opposite directions.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel imagines #Land of Thieves #wandaxreader

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] 3rd Anniversary Love Carnival - Lucien

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Lucien’s Prologue: here

3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here

[ PART ONE ]

MC: Which attraction should we try first…

Looking at the splendid carnival, I’m a little spoilt for choice.

Seeing how I can’t make a decision, Lucien chuckles.

Lucien: Take your time to pick. No matter which attraction it is, I’ll experience it together with you.

MC: I’ve decided!

Lucien: In that case, which attraction is so lucky to have been picked by MC?

Lifting my hand, I point towards the front.

MC: Let’s start today’s journey with the “Rotating Wind-and-Fire Wheel”!

Lucien: …

I’m not sure if it’s a misperception, but Lucien’s gentle smile seems to freeze for a second.

Even though I chose this scream-inducing attraction with a high morale, my heart still feels slightly anxious when I sit down.

After all, aside from a rotating descent, each seat is also centered on a connecting point at the ends of the ride, enabling it to move 360 degrees at a high speed.

After buckling the seatbelt, I take a deep breath.

MC: Lucien, are you ready?

In contrast to my evidently nervous self, Lucien maintains his usual composure.

Lucien: Mm. I believe the safety of this facility is sufficiently comprehensive.

MC: What I mean is… you can tell me if you’re scared.

Lucien: A sizeable number of people enjoy the more exhilarating rides in the amusement park. For instance, the rollercoasters, and the Wind-and-Fire Wheel we’re on right now.

MC: …

Although I don’t know why he’s suddenly bringing this up, I nod.

Lucien: Other than joy or happiness, people seek after fear on their own accord. When we’re in a safe environment and experience things that stimulate our “fight-or-flight response”, the brain will secrete serotonin.

The ride starts moving slowly. Lucien doesn’t seem to be affected by this, and his tone remains calm.

I’m a little confused about this sudden seminar on anthropology.

However, after putting more thought into it, a guess which doesn’t seem quite possible, yet is appropriate for this situation furtively arises.

Lucien: Aside from this, when experiencing more adrenaline-inducing rides–

Lucien’s mini lecture abruptly stops.

At the same time, without any warning, our seat starts spinning at a great speed. Along with the change in altitude, I instinctively start screaming.

MC: Ahh–!!

The sense of weightlessness and soaring into the air intertwine, and the world goes topsy-turvy. Other than the instinctive fear and anxiousness, what remains embedded in my mind is another impactful fact.

Even Lucien is scared!!

When we return to the ground, a sense of contentedness I’ve never felt before gushes out of my heart.

MC: Ah, Mother Earth, I love you.

Not caring whether I’d get ridiculed, I sigh with emotion from the bottom of my heart.

Lucien pats my back as a form of comfort, and smoothens my hair.

Lucien: How are you feeling now?

MC: As compared to this…

I straighten up, looking at Lucien seriously.

MC: Lucien, you aren’t great with such rides, are you?

Lucien: At the very least, I, with my eyes open, could see this brave lady screaming with her eyes closed during the entire process.

He doesn’t give me a straightforward answer. His calm state seems to be no different from before we rode the Wind-and-Fire Wheel.

However, his slightly tense smile, and his slightly flying fringe, gives me a different answer.

Translated comic based on this part: here

[ PART TWO ]

Note: Contains references from Reading Date, which has not been released in EN!

After experiencing the severe trials of the Rotating Wind-and-Fire Wheel, I select a few more peaceful attractions.

Taking Lucien’s advice, we take a short break in a small garden in the park after taking some simpler rides.

The park is built on a man-made lake, and numerous evergreen shrubs have been planted. Even on winter days, it doesn’t appear cold or cheerless.

For some reason, there’s a sweet fragrance permeating in the surrounding air.

After sitting down on a bench, Lucien doesn’t rest with me. He tells me to wait for a while, then walks along the path to the other end of the park.

What returns with him are two freshly prepared crepes.

Lucien: Since just now, you seemed to be looking for something. If my guess is correct, the fragrance you whiffed should be this.

MC: You noticed…

The freshly prepared fruit crepe still carries with it a faint warmth. Embellished with cream and chocolate, it looks especially delicious.

MC: Lucien, thank you!

Lucien sits down beside me, watching ripples appear on the surface of the lake.

Although it’s already late winter, the weather is especially good today. Coupled with how he’s beside me, it makes me feel even warmer.

MC: It looks like a scene from a comic.

I munch on the crepe happily, and can’t help but sigh with emotions.

Lucien: Why do you say that?

MC: Just look - don’t you typically see such scenes in comics? The female and male protagonists head out together for a date, take a break in the park, and share sweet crepes together.

The female-targeted comics I’d once read surfaces in my mind.

The thought of those scenes, which I had once yearned for, happening to me right now causes a sweetness to arise in my heart.

Lucien: Mm. I remember. When we exchanged books the last time, those comic books you had did have such scenarios. From such a perspective, I should have bought two different flavoured crepes, and exchanged them with you while we ate.

MC: There’s need for that. Things are already very good now. After all, life can’t be the same as in comics. Being able to participate in the carnival and enjoy delicious desserts is already the best date.

I take another bite of the crepe, the soft cream spreading in my mouth, filling all of my tastebuds.

Lucien: Is that so? In contrast, I think this girl who keeps quite a number of comics has pretty high expectations of her own “male protagonist”.

While Lucien says this, he turns his head and gently kisses the corner of my mouth.

The moist and soft sensation is akin to a feather brushing past lightly.

In the winter day which brings with it a slight coldness, his temperature is exceptionally obvious. It brands itself onto my skin, and melds into my breaths.

I’m frozen to the spot, my heart thumping continuously.

I can almost imagine that if this were a comic book, I know what kind of storyboard would be used for this present scene…

There would definitely be a large patch of white, with flowers and plants bubbling and encircling the protagonists.

MC: Why are you suddenly…

The “chief culprit” who caused my face to flush red remains calm and composed. He even takes a bite of the crepe in my hand.

Lucien: Now, does it seem a little closer to a comic?

[ PART THREE ]

Lucien: Oh yes, MC. There’s an attraction I want to try. Could you accompany me?

MC: What is it?

Lucien doesn’t respond. He simply takes my hand, leading me forward.

Lucien: This.

Looking at the attraction which has caused him to pause, I blink a number of times.

MC: The Pirate Ship?

Even though we’ve already buckled our seatbelts, and the Pirate Ship has already started swaying back and forth, I still can’t help but ask Lucien a question.

MC: Lucien, did you really want to ride this? If this is revenge for pulling you to ride the Wind-and-Fire Wheel earlier, your plan would have failed. After experiencing the Wind-and-Fire Wheel, even if we’re seated at the head of the boat, I definitely wouldn’t feel afraid! Also, based on what I’ve observed, you’re not great with such rides.

Seeing my confident expression, Lucien nods.

Lucien: I don’t deny that.

The Pirate Ship sways at a gradually increasing angle. But as I said - after experiencing the Wind-and-Fire Wheel, the Pirate Ship is nothing special.

Lucien: However, there’s an experiment I wish to conduct, and it’s worth taking on a ride I’m not great at.

MC: Experiment?

Lucien: Of course, from your perspective, it could be understood as another reason.

When I’m just about to continue probing, I gradually realise that there seems to be something wrong with this Pirate Ship.

Based on my memory, the speed of the swinging Pirate Ship shouldn’t be this fast.

MC: Did you…

Lucien: Based on my observations, the angle of the swinging Pirate Ship in this carnival is even larger than typical Pirate Ships. Put another way, its “destructive power” is even stronger.

As though agreeing with his words, the Pirate Ship sways from a vertical angle following the next swing.

MC: Ahhh–!

A similar weightlessness from the Wind-and-Fire Wheel causes me to scream even louder.

Despite experiencing a similar ride, my body didn’t get used to it as I had expected.

Instead, it exacerbates the memory from earlier, intensifying the feeling of fear.

I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping the handlebar tightly, wanting to stick myself to the seat.

When the ride ascends again, I can feel the Pirate Ship reaching a height that it has never reached before.

In my extreme nervousness, my heart clenches tightly.

Lucien: MC.

Suddenly, Lucien calls my name.

I subconsciously open my eyes to look at him.

It’s the first time I’m seeing such a Lucien.

In my memories, his expressions are mostly flat.

But right now, Lucien is looking at me, his narrow eyes turning into handsome arcs. The corners of his lips are raised, and he’s smiling happily and broadly.

Behind him is the dark blue sky. At a place far from the ground, I see a completely different smile from Lucien.

In its brightness, I seem to sense the childishness of someone whose prank has succeeded.

In this moment, I even forget that I’m on the Pirate Ship which is about to make its descent in the next second.

When my body reminds me of this, it’s already too late to close my eyes.

The exhilaration from having my eyes open while screaming is ten times more than when my eyes are closed.

MC: Ahh—!!!

In this instance, I understand what he meant by “another reason”.

Lucien: A little, tiny revenge?

MC: Lu–! Cien–!!!

What I get in response is a sigh from Mother Nature, as well as Lucien’s soft chuckle from the side.

[ PART FOUR ]

Looking around the adorably and warmly decorated cafeteria, and then the little gift that came along with the meal, I’m a little confused.

A few minutes ago, we were thinking about what to have for dinner, and we walked into this warm and adorably decorated small shop.

But we didn’t expect…

MC: I really didn’t think it’d be so “hardcore”.

I hold up the little gift, placing it in between Lucien and I.

It’s different from the small ornaments and objects with a feminine aura from my memories.

This cafeteria gives a heart-shaped Burr puzzle to patrons who order the couple set.

MC: The dishes are so delicious that they’re comparable to top-grade restaurants. Even the gifts they provide are just as hardcore. It’s amazing.

Lucien is tickled by my dead serious expression.

Lucien: Looks like the organiser has put in much effort, wanting to leave every visitor with unforgettable and happy memories.

MC: But giving visitors a heart which can’t be unlocked - what’s the owner of the shop thinking…

Without a proper strategy, I play with the Burr puzzle, and can’t help but grumble.

Lucien chuckles, taking this “heart” from my hand.

Lucien: With a little technique, it can be opened easily.

He sits slightly closer to me. Slowing down, he gives me a demonstration while explaining the technique of how to unlock the Burr puzzle.

With the movement of his fingertips and a gentle tug, the wooden lock, which was linked for a very long time, opens, revealing a tiny empty space in the heart which can be used to store things.

MC: Even though you’re already sick of this phrase, I still have to say - Lucien, you’re truly incredible.

Lucien: If I say that I haven’t gotten sick of this phrase, would you be willing to say it to me even more times?

Lucien turns his head over slightly to look at me. In his eyes are the familiar smile and slyness I’m most familiar with.

MC: If I say it, will I get a special prize from Professor Lucien?

After hearing this, Lucien actually ponders over it.

He narrows his eyes slightly, as though he’s facing the most complex, important, and difficult question.

Lucien: If it’s a prize…

All of a sudden, he leans over to my ear. Every gentle word brushes against my outer ear, trickling into my heart.

Lucien: Would an especially happy Lucien be enough?

MC: …Professor Lucien, that’s called being unreasonable.

Lucien: Is that so? I even thought you’d be very satisfied with it.

Lucien blinks, pretending to be taken aback.

Just when I think of how to best turn the tables, he places the wooden mortise of the Burr puzzle, which is used to store items, in my hand.

Lucien: Want to think of what to put in here? Given its structure, I’m thinking this is a safer place to store tiny keepsakes.

MC: Yes.

I turn towards the staff at the side, asking for a few sheets of post-its and pens, and also to allowing the temperature on my face to dissipate.

After we write on our respective notes for a while, Lucien and I exchange them.

On mine, there’s a simple drawing of a man opening a lock, a handsome smile on his face.

What Lucien hands over is a sketch.

In the simple composition, in the midst of light and shadow, he impressively draws me.

The me in the picture has her head lowered, writing on the post-it note, smiling very sweetly.

MC: Now, we’re doubly satisfied!

[ PART FIVE ]

MC: Why is there an animal show?

I look at the signboard at a corner of the park, and can’t help but frown.

MC: Should we remind the organisers that this is disrespectful to the animals, and also inhumane?

Lucien: Under normal circumstances, that would be the case.

Lucien takes out the guidebook, turning to the page which features the animal show.

Lucien: All the animals performing here have been rescued by the Loveland Animal Protection Organisation. During their training, there will not be any scolding or punishment. They also wouldn’t do anything against their instincts. For instance, jumping through flaming hoops. There’s a strict limit on how long they can perform, ensuring that these little fellows wouldn’t be too tired. Also, just as the guidebook says…

Lucien’s finger glides to the respective section of the guidebook.

Lucien: The profits from the carnival will all be used on animal rescue and protection. So I think supporting the “work” of these small animals is something we could do.

MC: Since you’ve put it that way, let’s go have a look!

Very quickly, along with a crisp sound of an bell, the performance begins.

A small white cat peeks its head out from the stage. After looking right and left, it leaps onto the window sill with light steps.

In the next second, plump tuxedo cats jump out from the same place, running to the railing at the other end.

Various coloured kittens start a round of “relay racing”.

MC: So cute!

Even more small animals join this relay race.

Puppies, parrots, and even charmingly adorable piglets and vivacious lambs.

MC: Lucien, how do you think they did this?

Completely absorbed in this novel performance, I can’t help being curious.

Lucien: By using food as a method of training, every small animal knows where it should run to. Staff members behind the scenes would let the next small animal enter the stage at the appropriate timing, leading to a successful performance.

MC: …that’s all?

Even though I was the one who brought up the question, receiving such an unexpectedly simple principle causes me to feel slightly empty.

MC: Truly, after knowing the principles behind things, the magic is no longer interesting…

My soft muttering doesn’t escape Lucien’s ears.

Lucien: Why don’t I give you a small gift as compensation for this “spoiler”?

The length of the performance isn’t very long. Once it’s over, Lucien walks over to the staff, and says something to him.

Lucien: MC, come here.

Curious, I follow Lucien to the empty area beside the stage.

The bell rings once again. This time, however, the “little actors” who had appeared on stage earlier are standing in a queue, walking towards me.

In the mouth of every animal is a small flower.

MC: Are these… for me?

As though answering my query, the small animals place the flowers into my open palm.

Lucien ties the flowers together, weaving them into a bracelet, and carefully wears it on my wrist.

Lucien: Even if it’s a simple principle, it can bring pleasant surprises if coupled with the thought of wanting to make you happy.

While he says this, he takes the final flower held by a small bird, wrapping it around my fourth finger, and rolling it into a ring.

Lucien: This “magic” which has been disclosed - do you like it?

Fireworks event: here

#this is just a re-post of the love carnival translations!#the previous translations were split according to parts rather than love interest which I find really disjointed!#I'm doing some mild renovations to the blog so don't mind me!!

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laequiem · 3 years

Text

She kills my self control - Chapter 8

/ Includes dialogue from The Cruel Prince, Chapter 21-22.

“Crawl," Jude blurts out.

A shiver went from the tip of my tail to the top of my spine. In my most indulgent fantasies, I am the one ordering her to crawl. In my worst nightmares, it's the other way around. Once again, I have the impression that nothing about this is real. Still, I can’t help but smirk.

cw: unhealthy coping mechanisms (alcohol, sex); physical abuse; nsfw

read on ao3 • previous chapter • next chapter • all chapters

Chapter 8. A little death is better with somebody at your side

Elfhame was waiting for its new ruler to be crowned and I, its disappointment of a prince, missed the coronation.

After the initial change in air pressure, the ground shakes, and I feel dread creep through my drunken numbness. I get to my feet. The girl I was with is gone. The fox mask she was wearing is still on the ground where it fell when we were making out. I pick it up and secure it to my face, hoping to get back in the throne room without anyone recognizing me.

As quickly as I can without looking conspicuous, I make my way out of the cellar and towards the ballroom. My mind is whirling, my vision is blurry, but I have to reach the throne room before my absence is noticed.

When I enter the room, I am greeted by absolute chaos. Knights are gathered around the throne. A bottleneck of folks from every court stretches from each possible exit as guards inspect everyone.

I approach a table closer to the dais and absentmindedly fill myself a goblet of wine as I crane my neck to look past the knights. There is blood everywhere. The throne looks weaker than it did a few minutes (hours?) ago, like its roots are not being nourished by the land anymore. The flowers that bloomed earlier are withered. But out of everything up there, that is the least alarming thing. Bodies upon bodies lay lifeless on the dais. My eyes catch on a heap of blue fabric stained red. Loyal Caelia, a bolt sticking out of her chest. Next to her, fierce Rhyia, with a knife in hand and a slit throat. Determined Elowyn, her gown covered in dried blood dripping from her neck. My sisters, barely more than strangers to me, slaughtered. I see other bodies nearby: guards, knights, a headless female, and my older brother Dain.

This can’t possibly be real. Am I dreaming? Did another court attack when we were at our weakest? Is it a coup coming from our own people? I feel bile rising in my throat.

I see no trace of my father. I scan the room for him, but my gaze catches on dark navy fabric coming out from under a banquet table.

No, no no no no no. Anybody but her.

The Grand General came back to Elfhame last night and my father threw a ball in his honor. Madoc is holding a child’s arm forcefully as he toasts with the soldiers. She is fae, a year or two older than me. But she is not the only child he brought back. Two other girls came to the ball with him, but he is not parading them around like he is doing with the older girl. They are standing alone in the corner of the room, as far away from anyone else as possible.

I look at my father. He is toasting with the general, courtiers at his arm. I look at my mother. She is dancing with a Lord from another court. They have not so much as looked at me in weeks. I found the revel by accident, roaming the halls of the palace in an attempt to find something to eat.

I run towards the new girls. They look like copies of each other - brown hair and brown eyes, tan skin, frail little things. They are both wearing ill-fitting beige dresses, as if whoever dressed them did not know what to wear for a ball.

“Are you servants?” I ask when I reach them.

“No,” they answer together.

“You look like servants. Fetch me food.”

I make to grab for one of them, but she backs up before I can. They run away and I run after them. They duck under a table, as if I couldn’t see them.

I lift the tablecloth and smile. They try to back away, but the table is set against a wall, trapping them. I grab one of them by the hair and drag her out from under the table. I pin her to the ground by the wrist. I move her hair away from her ears.

“Human! You’re human!” I exclaim with glee, “Maybe I’ll eat you.”

Someone pulls my hair and forces me away from her.

“Leave my sister alone!”

I whirl on the second girl. I bite the arm holding my hair. She lets go of my hair with a startled scream, but she starts punching me in the chest.

“Jude, stop this right now.” Madoc’s strong voice echoes through the room.

The girl freezes, eyes wide with fear. She gets up.

“Your Majesty, forgive her,” the Grand General tells my father, “She does not know how to behave around royalty yet.”

My father waves a hand in dismissal, unbothered. I look at the girl, Jude. She’s staring at me fiercely, a silent promise of violence.

I bolt towards the table. The pressure in my chest slackens when I see the fabric shift. She is alive. I reach under the table and grab her arm.

“You’re mortal,” I say, as if it wasn’t obvious. My eyes dart to the knife in her hand, then back at her face, “It’s not safe for you here. Especially if you go around stabbing everyone.”

“Not safe for me?” she snarls, “Get down here before you’re recognized.”

Why would it matter? Surely, nobody would think of me as a threat to their coup.

“Playing hide-and-seek under the table? Crouching in the dirt?” I laugh, unable to keep my composure and hide my anxiousness, “Typical of your kind, but far beneath my dignity.”

Suddenly, she throws her arm forward and punches me in the stomach.

“Ow!”

Jude drags me under the table with her. Sure, I had imagined us hiding under tables before, but I never imagined it being to avoid being murdered.

“We’ll get out of here without anyone noticing,” she whispers, “We stay under the tables and make our way to the steps to the upper levels of the palace. And don’t tell me it’s beneath your dignity to crawl. You’re so drunk you can barely stand anyway.”

I snort, “If you insist.”

As we make our way, through the music and wild laughter of rowdy guests, I hear snippets of conversation, allowing me to put the pieces together. Balekin is alive and looking for me, Madoc killed Dain, my father is dead.

My father is dead.

I look at the signet ring on my finger, the proof of my royal blood.

“He despised me.”

Would my father have crowned me, if all my other siblings were dead? Would he have crowned me before he crowned Balekin? I doubt it. He would rather keep the crown, knowing as I do that my reign would doom Elfhame. Yet, I will mourn him.

“Balekin?”

Another disdainful snort, “My father. I didn’t much know the others, my brothers and sisters. Isn’t that funny? Prince Dain- he didn’t want me in the palace, so he forced me out.”

Dain is the only one I will not mourn. He put me at Balekin's mercy knowingly. Brought me down to raise himself up. If I am Prince Failure, he was Prince Perfect, the High King's pride.

“And now they’re all dead. Thanks to Madoc. Our honorable general. They never should have trusted him. But your mother discovered that a long time ago, didn’t she?”

Cruelty and laughter. My only weapons against fear, against the reality of being the last one alive to crown Balekin. He will hunt me down, force me to crown him. Will Jude bring me to him directly? She is Madoc's ward, after all. She might just bring me straight to her father, who will gladly give me over.

“Crawl," Jude blurts out.

“You first.”

Fighting with her, teasing her, humiliating her. It all comes so naturally to me, and I am willing to bet it does to her too.

We move from table to table, until we are close to the steps leading out of the hall. I lift the tablecloth and exit first, then offer her my hand. She does not take it.

Jude makes to go towards the steps, but I stop her.

“Not like that. Your father’s knights will recognize you.”

Her fierce gaze narrows, “I’m not the one they’re looking for.”

I frown under my mask.

“If they see your face, they may pay too much attention to whom you’re with.”

“If they knew me at all, they’d know I’d never be with you.”

And yet. She sighs, then takes the pins out of her braids and lets her hair loose. She ruffles her hair. I am taken aback, unable to stop staring.

“You look…”

Mortal. Lusty. Obscene. Untamed. Filthy. Gorgeous.

“Give me a second.”

Thankfully, she leaves before I can finish my thought. The dress I designed, her menacing attitude, the hair. It’s all too much, too close to my fantasies. Cardan, you pathetic wretch. Your family was slaughtered and you think about banging a mortal. I grab a bottle of green wine from the table and guzzle it down while she is gone. When she comes back, she is wearing a mask like I am.

“Come on,” she grunts as she drags me towards the guards watching the steps.

“Look elsewhere for your pleasure,” one of them says authoritatively, “This is the way to the palace, and it is barred to common Folk.”

Who is he calling common?

“We will do as we are bid,” Jude replies submissively as she tugs me away. I stand my ground.

“You are much mistaken in us,” I reply with a saccharine smile.

If nothing else, sweet-talking is my forte.

“The High King Balekin is a friend to my lady’s Court,” I drawl as I slide my signet ring off of my finger, “You may have heard of Queen Gliten in the Northwest. Balekin sent a message about the missing prince. He is waiting for an answer.”

“I don’t suppose you have any proof of that?”

“Of course,” I reply as I hold out the ring, “I was given this token so you would know me.”

They step back. Half-truth, the language of the court. I smile and grab Jude’s arm, dragging her eagerly up the steps.

“What about the mortal?” one guard inquires.

“Oh, well, you aren’t entirely mistaken in me. I intended to keep some of the delights of the revel for myself,” I give them a knowing smirk.

I guide her up the steps, then unlock the door to the upper level of the palace. As soon as we enter the empty hall, I hear the lock turn. Confused, I turn towards her, only to see her point a dagger at my face. She presses it under my chin and I stiffen.

“Jude?”

“Surprised?” she grins at me, fire and hatred burning in her earthy eyes, “You shouldn’t be.”

She presses the knife deeper and I feel the sharp blade resting against my skin. Not a nightmare, then. Real.

“Why?”, I try to sound bored but it comes out more like a whine.

“Because your luck is terrible and mine is great. Do what I say and I’ll delay the pleasure of hurting you.”

My luck is terrible. My tormentor stands closer than she ever has, but I am not the one holding the blade to her throat. I feel shame wash over me as my blood rushes south at the thought of her pushing that blade deeper.

“Planning to spill a little more royal blood tonight?” I sneer as I try to wiggle my way out of her grasp, “Feeling left out of the slaughter?”

“You’re drunk.”

An obvious statement, I guess, to mirror the one I made earlier about her mortality. I lean my head back against the stone wall and close my eyes. I cannot bear to look at her, determined and deadly, cunning little mortal.

“Oh, indeed," I scoff, “But do you really believe I am going to let you parade me in front of the General, as though I am some lowly—”

She presses the knife harder to my throat. I swallow.

"Of course," I laugh nervously, “I was passed out cold while my family was murdered; it’s hard to fall more lowly than that.”

“Stop talking. Move.”

“Or what? You’re not really going to stab me.”

I kind of wish she would.

“When was the last time you saw your dear friend Valerian? Not today, despite the insult implied by his absence. Did you wonder at that?”

My eyes fly open. Valerian’s presence is definitely not one I missed, but I did wonder where he was. It is unlike him to miss a revel, especially one with such bloodshed. I stare at Jude, trying to find the answer to this riddle she just posed in her eyes. She gives nothing away.

“I did. Where is he?”

“Rotting near Madoc’s stables. I killed him, then I buried him,” she boasts, a vicious smile on her face, “So believe me when I threaten you. No matter how unlikely it seems, you are the most important person in all of Faerie. Whosoever has you, has power. And I want power.”

I blink a few times. She… killed him? I knew she hated him, hated us. But I never imagined her going out of her way to find him and murder him. No matter how much he deserved it.

“I suppose you were right after all,” I say in disbelief, “I suppose I didn’t know the least of what you could do.”

“Time to move,” she cuts in, “Go to the first door and open it. When we’re inside, we’re going to the closet. There’s a passageway through there.”

“Yes, fine,” I bark back at her.

It’s humiliating that Jude, of all people, knows this palace better than I do. I put my hand between the knife and my throat to push it away, but she holds it and it cuts my fingers.

Shit.

I put a bleeding finger to my mouth. “What was that for?”

“For fun,” she croons, then lowers the dagger.

She pushes me forward. “Will you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“No. Now move.”

I go to the first room and immediately spot the closet. I open it, then I look back at her. She is still holding that damned dagger, her eyes burning holes in my back.

I crawl in reluctantly.

#tfota #the folk of the air #cardan greenbriar #cardan #jude duarte #jurdan #judecardan #the cruel prince #fanfic #smut #angst

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singeramg · 4 years

Note

Jealous!Reader when she and Henry are watching BvS, she huffs and curses him every time Henry touches or kisses Amy Adams and Henry finding it hilarious and cute? Thanks 🙏

Hi Anon!

Thanks for the ask! I appreciate you for this, its not very long, maybe more of a slightly extended Drabble but nevertheless I hope you enjoy this.

Character: Henry Cavill x Black! Reader

Warnings: Mostly Language and implied smut.

Rating: M

Green Eyed Monster for the Blue Eyed Man

Envy

It had been a quiet day around the house, Henry was enjoying the time he left before he was off to film again and you’d been happy to have him home. He delighted in having you be domestic with him and other than a few phone calls it had been mostly uninterrupted. Walks with Kal, making foods he was sure his trainer would kill him for later and of course thoroughly making up for the time he hadn’t been able to spend with you physically. He made sure you rechristened every room in the house, including his newly converted gaming room.

He loved that you knew when to give him space and when he needed you. You didn’t often give him a hard time about much, that’s why at first Henry thought he was imagining things. The small puffs of air, the way you’d suddenly find something that had to be done the minute an intimate scene in one of his films or his shows came on. The mumbles and grumbles that leave your lips are barely unintelligible but if he was right it wasn’t anything nice. He has to test his theory so he cuts on Batman vs. Superman as the film for that night, under the guise that he wants to get back into the right headspace for the few reshoots he’d be doing for Snyder’s cut of the Justice League film. You don’t even argue with him about it and settle into his arms on the couch.

He pretends to be watching the screen but he actually is watching your reactions and it doesn’t take long to disengage yourself from his arms with a huff when Amy comes onto the screen.

“Fucking A...”

You grumbled under your breath.

“Did you say something love?” Henry asks you and he looks over at you but your eyes are narrowed at him and Amy kissing on the large flatscreen TV.

“Nope.”

You huff again and give him the fakest grin. He hadn’t seen that since you were back in the states for a visit and some woman became fascinated by your hair and had the audacity to try and touch it. He watched as you calmly told the lady that you were not a dog and no she could not pet you. All with that same fake smile you were giving him right now. He also remembers how you exploded in the car as soon as the door closed. You’d always been good at hiding your feelings when needed so it does not offer him any comfort that you are actually okay.

“Are you sure?” He presses for more of an answer but you don’t give it. In fact you make an excuse despite having eaten just over an hour ago, that you were hungry and went into the kitchen to make some popcorn.

He hears you tossing things around into the sink and he is doing his damnest not to laugh at you. You are standing at the kitchen counter pouring the fresh popcorn into a bowl and tossing some to Kal who absolutely loved the treats. Henry walks up behind you, hands encircle your hips, his lips kiss your neck softly but honestly you were still annoyed.

Honestly you knew it was dumb and maybe even childish but you were highly annoyed.

“Baby come on.” He says trying to get you relaxed but you were not going for it.

“Hen, I’m tired, let's just finish the movie.” You walk by him, Kal in tow and plopped back down on the couch this time on the opposite end. The moment Amy comes back on screen you’ve rolled your eyes so hard Henry is surprised they haven’t rolled out onto the table.

“Damn she can’t keep her hands to herself can she.”

It’s that sentence that sends Henry into the full blown laughter that he has been holding back.

“And what in the hell is so funny Cavill?!”

He moves closer to you and you now have a full blown pout and have your arms crossed over your chest. All that is missing is for you to stomp on the ground.

“Baby girl don’t tell me you are jealous of a movie I filmed before you came into my life with a woman that is truly harmless...”

“Fuck harmless Henry. I can’t be the only one the notices how she talks about you in the interviews and excuse the fuck out of me but you seem way too entirely into those kisses.”

“Y/n it’s called acting.”

“Acting my ASS! She is out here trying to be your windpipe and shit.You are just out here playing me for a fool aren’t you? You think I can’t see through that shit...”

Henry is still damn near in tears laughing at the situation because most of the time it was him that had to fight off the green monster.

He was constantly worried you were going to find someone better than him. You were absolutely gorgeous and it would be nothing for you to find a man that could constantly give you the time and attention that he couldn’t. So to see you so jealous makes him excited because to him it means you were just as crazy about him as he was about you. It only made him want you more.

“Baby I promise I don’t want anyone but you.”

“Fuck the shit Henry! You...”

He can see you losing it slightly with you pouting and through his laughter he surprises you by picking you up from the couch and the next thing you know your tossed caveman style over his shoulder as he takes you to your shared bedroom.

“What in the hell Henry put me down?!!!”

You are pounding at his back, but it didn’t hurt and he carries you until he drops you across your bed blue eyes sparkling with mischief and it makes you flutter but you don’t show it to him, in fact you tried you yank away, and the minute you try to go to the other side of the bed, he pulls you back to him by the ankles, smothering your body with his own weight, and you push at his pecs, but of course he doesn’t move and you don’t really want him to, liking how he feels over you.

“Oh darling let me show you one of the many reasons you don’t have any reason to be jealous…”

A/n: So who would possibly be jealous of Amy getting to kiss Henry lol If it was me I'd probably play it up just a little just for the attention. LOL

Possibly I would consider the continuation of just how Henry snaps ( smuts) the reader out of the jealously if enough are interested but for now we end it here.

Henry tag list (still open)

@msblkfire84 @magdelen69 @peeyewpeeyew @agniavateira @fcgrizi @diehadess @mary-ann84 @snowbellexx @tearsontape13 @tvdplusriverdale @p3nny4urth0ught5 @laxgirl1799 @crazymexicanfangirl @iloveyouyen @oddduckthatgirl @pinkcollectorparadiseblr @sweetybuzz25 @normatural @keiva1000 @cosmoeticss @luclittlepond @radaofrivia @vikingsbifrost @harrysthiccthighss @suueeeeeee @maan24 @rn7rocks @dearlybelovedluke

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x Black! Reader #anon asks #drabble

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ladyonfire28 · 4 years

Photo

Noémie Merlant for DeMorgen.

In this interview, Noémie talks about her modeling career, the César, Céline and mentions for the very first time that she suffered from eating disorder when she was working as a model...

(the interview was no in my native tongue, I used google translate so the translation might be approximative sometimes)

Rising star Noémie Merlant: 'Being a model is terrible. It shouldn't exist’

(...)

WEIGHED LIKE AN ANIMAL

How it feels to fall on an object may have remained somewhat abstract for Merlant; she understands what it is like to be viewed as an object herself. For eight years she was a much sought after photo and catwalk model. But she certainly does not have fond memories of that period. “When I was 17, I moved from a suburb near Nantes to Paris to study at the Cours Florent theater academy. Then I suddenly had to earn money to pay the rent. Since I am quite tall, I regularly did assignments as a model since I was 16. I expanded that activity in Paris. ”

Until she was 24, Merlant will string together shows and photo shoots, "but only because I couldn't live off my work as an actress before," she says. “Being a model is a terrible job. I think it shouldn't even exist. All the while I felt like just a piece of meat. You are weighed, measured and touched like an animal. And then comes the comment, "No, she's too fat. Here's a little too much grease running over the edge of her underpants. " They really talk about you like you're not just there. And worst of all, there is no protection whatsoever. At some point, rules were introduced to fight anorexia in the industry: those who weighed too little were no longer allowed to work. But in practice, it just came down to putting weights in our bra when the occupational physician came by. Totally irresponsible. ”

We ask carefully whether her time as a model has ever left her with an eating disorder. "It did," she replies quietly. “For a long time. While I never had a problem with food before. Being a model made me sick. ” She pauses. “it’s crazy, it’s actually the first time that I have said this in public. But it seems important to me to talk about it, because it remains taboo, and it’s also a disease that is very difficult to get rid of. I was lucky: cinema saved me. Because acting allowed me to express myself. While in the fashion world I was always expected to keep silent. As a model you are objectified in such a way that you lose your voice. In the long run, I also failed in my personal relationships to say what I felt. I dared not say no anymore”.

THE POLANSKI SHOCK

Today is different, she recently proved at the ceremony of the Césars - the French Oscars. When the contested Roman Polanski, who is still wanted by the American court for the rape of a 13-year-old girl in 1977, was awarded the best director prize for his historical drama J'accuse, actress Adèle Haenel stormed out of the room from. Merlant, who shared the screen with Haenel in Portrait de la jeune fille en feu, quickly joined her and strode out.

What went through her then? “Polanski had already won the Best Adapted Screenplay award earlier that night, so it wasn't just about getting his film an award. We were shocked that he was also lauded as the best director, and things were shouted in the audience like 'bravo, Roman!'. That felt very ambiguous at the time. ”

Their action has sparked a media storm, Merlant realizes. “There is a lot of division now, and there are hard words. But we also get a lot of support. We set something in motion by standing there and leaving. At least there is now real discussion about this theme. Not only on the internet, but also within families and groups of friends. And even though those discussions can sometimes run high, movement still seems to me better than standing still. ”

What does she think of the often heard argument that man should be separated from the artist? "I find that a very difficult issue," she admits honestly. “But when I look at myself, I don't feel like I become a different person when I act or write. Moreover, I do not think that cinema, or art in general, is above the law. I think what you do in real life is more important than cinema. ”

NAKED AGAINST YOUR WILL

In fact, good behavior in real life can also improve the quality of art, Merlant thinks. She learned that from director Céline Sciamma on the set of Portrait de la jeune fille en feu . “Céline is very good at listening to others. She does not impose her opinion and wishes. She just gives the others space and time to express herself. That egalitarian atmosphere constantly produced pleasant surprises, just because everyone dared to imagine things. If everyone feels comfortable and feels free to speak, it is very enriching. Mutual agreement is therefore a very positive thing. It does not mean that you are not allowed to say anything more, on the contrary: it means that everyone has the opportunity to speak out and be heard.”

The contrast with her experiences as a model could not be greater, Merlant concludes: “As a model I was not given the space to say no. If you are a minor, and they ask you to take your clothes off, it is very difficult to refuse. Because you have always been told that you have to like it - that that is your only reason for existence, even. So you start undressing, even if you don't feel like it. ”

And then our conversation is over, and it's time for ... the photo shoot. Does she not find it difficult to get back into the role of model? "I don't really care," she laughs. “I don't think it's the most exciting part of my job, but I'll take it in. The atmosphere with this kind of shoots is also much better than when I worked as a model. Because the power relation has now changed: I am no longer 'the model', but 'the actress'. Then a photographer suddenly speaks to you in a completely different way. I am no longer treated as a thing, but as a human being. ”

#i want to destroy every single person that made noémie feel like she was worthless #when i read the part where she said she had eating disorder my heart dropped #now you also get why she's so shy and is scared to talk #because for so many years all she's been asked to is to shut up #because her opinion didn't matter #and she didn't matter #but now people care about what she thinks and it's so new to her #i just want to hug her #noémie merlant #noemie merlant #portrait of a lady on fire #portrait de la jeune fille en feu #jumbo

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grimmjowkurosakidrake · 3 years

Text

Hermoso

Summary: For the @soulmatebingo “Phrase in native language”

Keith gets the word “Hermoso" tattooed on his throat. Lance, instead, gets the word “Idiot” tattooed at the back of his neck.

Length: 2347 words

Relationships: Lance (Voltron)/Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) & Shiro (Voltron)

Warnings: Implied depression, implied low self esteem issues

Also, just a quick reminder that you can commission me at @witcheswritings

Keith is thirteen on his fourth day at the Garrison when the word «Hermoso» writes itself deeply into his throat.

He doesn’t know when it happens exactly, one day he’s mark-less and then suddenly he’s seeing the bold, cursive letters, written there, glaring back at him from the mirror in the boys’ bathroom when he’s done washing his hands.

There’s no way he can hide this, it’s the first thing that comes into his mind when he sees it. Small hands tracing the words with slow, hesitant touches.

It’s almost like his soulmate wants everyone to see these words, to know that he’s... hermoso, whatever that means.

Keith is not so eager for the world to see these words, however.

He would have to wear high collars or scarfs for the rest of his life if he ever thought about covering this mark. But even when there’s no need for him to try and conceal it, as the school doesn’t have any rules against soulmate tattoos, he still feels the need to hide it from the everyone around him.

There’s someone out there now, his soulmate, who’s noticed him or met him for the first time and those thoughts are now tattooed into his throat.

A deep blush travels from his face to his collarbones at the idea. His soulmate is somewhere around the Garrison, and these foreign words are their first thoughts about him.

“Hermoso.” He tries to say with great difficulty, not really sure in how to roll the r in between the word. It ends up sounding awkward and he wonders if his soulmate will teach him how to say it, someday.

Will his soulmate reach out to him?

A part of him wants them to, another part it’s almost afraid.

☰☰

Shiro smiles when he sees the mark on his throat, the older boy engulfs him in a warm hug, honestly happy for him. “My Spanish may be a little rusty.” Admits Shiro, kissing the top of Keith’s head even against the boy’s loud protests. “But I’m almost sure it means beautiful.”

The Garrison’s junior officer looks directly into his eyes as he says this.

“That can’t be” Mumbles Keith, rising the high collar of his uniform up at his chin. Beautiful is what you call flowers, butterflies, and pretty girls. It’s how his father used to talk about Keith’s mom.

“I don’t think I’m wrong.” Shiro smiles indulgently, opening the zipper of his jacket until his tattoo is clearly visible. “I think your soulmate thinks you’re beautiful and that’s fine.” He states. “That is exactly how love is supposed to be.”

“Do you have a mark?” Asks Keith, his little hands wrapping around his throat almost on instinct.

“Yes.” Answers Shiro, lifting the sleeves of his jacket, there, on his wrist the words «Cute Smile» sit comfortable like they belong.

He does have a cute smile, it’s bright and reassuring all the same. The smile of a true leader.

Keith smiles hesitantly. “It’s true.” He admits, Shiro’s smile makes him feel right at home, safe, like there’s nothing wrong in the world even when everything clearly is.

“Then maybe you can be beautiful.” Counters the officer, tapping the top of his nose. “Your soulmate surely thinks so.”

☰☰

Lance is thirteen when he enters the academy; He’s away from his family, he’s miles away from the sea and he’s afraid that he will never make friends with anyone.

But he can feel the space at the tips of his fingers now, his dreams are closer to him now and even if he’s not the space hero protagonist he imagined he’d become as soon as he entered the academy, he knows this is a step closer to his future as pilot.

Four days into the academy, they do weapon training.

It’s a safe begginer’s practice for the most part; they start with blunt weapons as their instructor coldly tells them that there’s no way they can hurt themselves with them, that these weapons are harmless.

Lance can’t help but think that he’s lying, after all, weapons are weapons, specially under the wrong hands.

But he stays silent.

The people at the Garrison obviously want them to get started on safe battle grounds because more than anything, they will be soldiers.

It should be easy, they give them blunt weapons of choice, ranging from brass knuckles to even one big maze that only someone like Hunk should handle at their age.

“You’ll face robots and drones alike; they wont hurt you but they will charge at you, robots are one pointers, drones...” Explains one of his teachers, pointing at the top of the high ceiling where four drones are flying high about them. “Are two pointers. Try and take them on.” He taunts them.

It’s a lot of fun, for the most part. He’s not good with any of the weapons, not even the Bō -Staff, truth is, no one is. But all of them have fun trying, building camaraderie in their failure.

Because they all fail, until Keith.

The boys destroys three big robots with the Bō -Staff just three minutes after his time starts; using its weight and material to his advantage, he’s not superhuman by any means but he’s smart.

Then, he takes the Sai swords.

Without breaking a sweat, the boy runs towards the destroyed robots to propel himself to the high ceiling of the gymnasium at the Garrison, the swords twirling between his fingers before hitting the first drone, then, he uses the momentum to fall into the second drone and hit it too, it’s ridiculous.

The difference in between Keith and the rest of them is enormous.

Around him, all of their classmates are glaring at Keith. There’s nothing wrong if they all fail, that means they need more training.

But if one of them passes in the way Keith is passing, then it means the rest of the class is behind. They’re jealous, bitter.

But Lance can’t help but think:

Él es hermoso, la forma en que se mueve, ágil y mortal. Como una pantera acechando a su presa.

It’s the first time he thinks of the boy. But it surely won’t be the last.

Keith is larger than life, a beautiful monster, oblivious to the world around him; even Lance.

With time, everything he does, is with Keith on his thoughts. Maybe if he gets stronger, he will be at Keith’s level, maybe they will become partners, fighting and flying shoulder to shoulder.

Reaching the stars side by side.

Keith never notices him, or so he thinks, but a week into the Garrison, Lace gets his mark. The word «Idiot» tattooed into the back of his neck, forever.

But he doesn’t notice it until Hunk points it out when they’re changing clothes after gym hours.

“Lance!” He screams exited. “You got your mark!” Probably not even thinking about what those words say.

Hunk has always been a romantic, in love with love, never thinking about how cruel it can be.

“Really?” Asks Lance just as exited. “What does it say?”

“Oh…” Whispers Hunk, his voice audibly less chipper.

“What?” Insists Lance. “C’mon, Hunk. Don’t put me on edge, big boy.”

“Idiot.” He finally says. “It says idiot.”

“Oh…” Mimics Lance, his voice disappointed but not actually surprised.

A few days later, just at the start of summer, he sees Keith’s mark for the first time.

☰☰

When he tells his family they try to lighten the mood. “Oh, honey.” Laughs his mom through the screen when he video-chats them about it. “Pobrecita tiene que haberte visto hacer alguna tontería.”

Lance chuckles “Pobrecito, mamá.” He corrects her, “my soulmate is a boy, you know.”

At his words, his mom brightens. “Oh!” She exclaims, “You know who he is!”

“Yes.” Responds Lance with a grimace marring his face. “He’s beautiful.”

His mother is happy for him; in fact, his whole family is. But Lance can’t help but feel resentful. This is what Keith thinks of him, his first impression of Lance and he thinks he’s an idiot.

They’ve never exchanged words, never even fought. How stupid can he be if that’s the first thought a complete estranger has of him?

He doesn’t tell Keith that they’re soulmates, he won’t force the bright, beautiful future prodigy of the Garrison to stuck with a stupid cargo pilot.

Then Keith drops out of the Garrison and he doesn’t have to pretend. Without Keith there, Lance doesn’t have to pretend that he’s not in love.

☰☰

When they meet again he notices that Keith no longer hides his mark, now, instead of the high collars and tight shirts at his neck, he wears a black shirt with a deep v neck, showing off both his throat and his collarbones.

“It means beautiful.” He supplies one day, boldly tracing the words on his soulmate’s throat. They’re sitting on Lance’s bed in his room at the castle.

Besides Shiro, Keith has only been comfortable with Lance touching him, after so many physical fights and training together maybe he no longer minds having the cuban boy near him.

Without thinking, Lace’s hand reaches out to the back of his own neck. “I thought you were beautiful, back then.” He confesses. “Beautiful and deadly, like a panther.” Clarifies the brunette, chuckling “I guess I wasn’t wrong, mister red lion.”

“What does your mark says?” Asks the red paladin, hesitant. He knows that Lance has a mark, he probably already knows the obvious, rhat Lace and him are soulmates.

“You don’t remember?” He asks, his voice small, insecure.

Keith puts his legs over Lance’s own, resting his head on his shoulder. “My dad died a year before I entered the Garrison.” He articulates as if it explained anything. “Two months later I met Shiro and he encouraged me to apply.” His is voice small, barely a whisper. “He gave me a reason to keep on going. Suddenly I had a meaning, I was good at flying and at fighting, a natural soldier, but...” He pauses. “I wasn’t happy.”

“Keith…” Tries Lance, not really knowing what to say.

Keith is not really explaining anything but his words are having an impact on Lance anyway. No matter the words tattooed on their skin, even if they weren’t soulmates, Lance knows that he loves the other boy and he would never want him to be unhappy.

Keith interrupts him before he can even voice his thoughts. “I don’t remember when, but you got yourself caught in a rope one day. You were on the ground, just a mess of limbs and rope and I laughed.” He smiles. “I laughed so hard that I cried a little.”

“Glad to be of service.” Mutters Lance, tangling long fingers on Keith’s unruly hair.

“I thought you were an idiot, such an idiot.” Keith whispers, moving into his lap, trying to get as close to Lance as possible. “And I laughed for the first since my father died.” He pauses for a moment, looking up to Lance, trying to gauge his reaction to his words. Lance smiles down at his soulmate. “It was the first thing I thought about you but it wasn’t the last.” He rushes. “I swear.”

“Yeah?” Asks Lance with a goofy grin painted on his face as he carefully removes a rebellious lock of dark hair from Keith’s face.

“You were always around people, always happy.” Smiles Keith. “I wish your mark was different.” He confesses. “You’re funny, you’re brave, you’re tenacious.” Keith pauses for a moment, just to take Lance’s hand with his own. “You make me happy.”

“I’m suddenly fine with my mark if this s what you make of it.” Jokes Lance, even when he knows that he’s lying.

The reality it’s that he’s never going to forget the disappointment and the resentment. He has spent at least four years of his time at the Garrison thinking that his soulmate thought him nothing but an idiot and for some time, he tried to convince himself that Keith was right.

“I hope that’s not true.” Argues Keith. “I’m sorry about your mark.” He apologies. “Especially when my mark is…” He chokes, holding his throat like a lifeline. “Especially when mine is the best thing that could even happen to me.”

“It’s not fine.” Lance confesses. “I really wish it was fine, that I could feel proud of my mark like you do.”

“I’m sorry.” Apologies Keith once again, his face contorting in anguish.

“But it doesn’t mean that what I felt about you has changed. It doesn’t mean that you’re not my soulmate or that I wish you weren’t my soulmate.” He continues, holding onto Keith’s hips and drawing the other boy closer to him.

In this position they’re almost the same height, chest to chest with Keith being a head taller than him for the first time ever. Lance doesn’t mind. No with Keith’s legs straddling him like this.

“I want to make it up to you.” Whispers the red paladin over his lips like a promise.

“You don’t have to.” Answers Lance, his mouth barely touching Keith’s.

Keith doesn’t answer, instead, he closes the gap in between, his lips closing around Lance’s own lower lip with a conteted sigh.

Both boys moan together as they kiss, they’ve been waiting for this moment, building up the tension and the attraction until neither of them could take it anymore.

With a sigh, Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s neck, his fingertips caressing the words hidden at the back of his neck. “You really make me happy.” He murmurs, kissing his soulmate again, the tip of his tongue seeking entrance shyly.

Lance smirks and opens his mouth, his own tongue meeting Keith’s before closing his lips over Keith’s lips. His hands sneaking under the shorter boy’s shirt, feeling the warm skin there.

“You make me happy, too, beautiful.” He whispers, settling a warm, kiss under his soulmate’s jawbone. “Realmente me haces feliz, hermoso.”

Keith sighs, his whole body falling into Lance’s arms, content there.

Safe.

#klance #keith kogane #lance macclain #Voltron legendary defender #soulmatebingo21

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mamanars02 · 3 years

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I AM PROFESSIONALLY CONNED BY MY HUSBAND A SELF PROCLAIMED GOOD GUY Oo day, ang Ganda ko pero naloko ng pangit. Pano ba nangyare? Ganito bhie, Mahaba ang kwento pero di kasinghaba ng titi ng asawa ko. Year 2011, I met my husband in KSA. I am still young back then, and still madly inlove with my year LDR boyfriend. My husband courted me, even though he is aware I was in a relationship, he tried. He befriended me and since he proclaimed himself as a very good guy with some flaws in life, being a father of a teenage girl, so, I thought back then, OMG he was such an honest GUY. OO, naniwala ako, uto uto ang peg. Then, my 7 year relationship ended. Chance nya na.. Grab the opportunity ginawa ng Lolo nyo. Brokenhearted, I gave my husband a chance. Brokenhearted, I made a choice to give in to him, sexually, in KSA (di ako malibog, nagtry Lang ang gaga, bilis nga, di ako nasiyahan.) He proposed to me then on, not in a very romantic way as I would like to imagine. He just handed me the ring and just said the word, Marry Me. (Walang ka sweet sweet, kahit I sang langgam di malasahan and proposal kasi Walang tamis) But I am so young back then,fresh pa ako bhie, and he is 11 years older than me, gurang na sya in short. Kinilig pa rin ako (or pinaniwala ko sarili ko siguro that time) , even though my heart sank hoping he would have proposed formally. We planned our wedding, but he is not that participative. Parang, o sya, planuhin MO lahat aatend Lang ako. It is like I am marrying myself alone, but when it comes to meeting me, to have sex with me, I can feel the excitement he is showing me (wagas ang libog ng Lolo nyo) . His family never did the traditional pamamanhikan nor meeting my parents to pay respect for taking my hand in marriage. How ignorant of me in those times. I guess I am really blinded by the old guy. He just called my parents through phone and say, “Hello Nay, Tay, I would like to marry your daughter.” and conversation ended. I felt the pain and hesitancy of my parents back then. Their anxiety and fear for me, their one and only princess, being taken by this middle age guy, a total stranger who never came to meet them. I am a fucking asshole. My family ignored those facts and questions in their mind. They love me, and they saw the excitement and happiness that I am getting married. (I am so lucky with my parents) As months has passed, I started doubting myself to get married to him, I noticed some flaws. I started to feel being used as a trophy girlfriend, a sexual object. Parausan Lang feel gurl??? I was ready to end our relationship, and the unfortunate event happened. Our affair has been reported by our fellow Filipino colleagues. I was so scared and helpless, afraid of getting jailed and deported. I am not ready to become a young jobless woman. My siblings need me, financially to support their studies. I can’t afford seeing my siblings’ future taken away because of my stupidity. Gaga kasi, gurl. Yan ang napala ng pag explore. So, I got married in an instant, in the Philippine Embassy of Riyadh. The place where Filipino couples getting married in a conservative, strict country like KSA. I got married in a rush, without the presence of my family. Me… Alone… And that’s how my husband had the chance to con me. Pano ba? Sexually,.. Hmmmm… He drained all the youth in me, wow.. Maka drain Lang eh no? Having me in bed almost every day and night, Kung pwede nya ako chukchakin ng 5 beses, ay gagawin nya.. Nakuha nya kasi ambata eh. I am not sexually accomplished, but I pretended to be. He is harsh at times, he wanted to see how I react. His foreplays are rough. And I want it to end, so I did my role of being sexually in to it. I dreamed to be a good wife. A wife that will fulfill my husband’s needs, physically, sexually, emotionally, even financially. I wanted to become a mother as well, so we got pregnant in one try. I thought he will become a caring husband, an excited father to be thought it is not his first time. But, in the first check up I had, he

chose to spend his time with his so called friends rather than assisting me and be with me in my first ultrasound. I was hurt. I never expected that. Mabait sya, my mind says. Months has passed, my pregnancy is very much stable. Still working tough even on my 38th week. Malakas to, bhie.. In those months together, he was insisting on taking bank loans. I am hesistant. I am not the type of person who likes to have UTANG because I want my salary complete. However, he had me say Yes. I took a loan and it was approved because my salary is high enough to meet their required scale. Just like that, when I received the loan, he took charge of it. Sent the money to his parents, telling me they will starts to build a house for us in their place. Since I believed their words, I just went on with the flow, not knowing his father is taking a Chunk of money as well to gamble. I was able to deliver my first child normally. I was such a happy proud mother. He is as well but since having a child in KSA is difficult without having someone to take care of my son. We have to sacrifice and send our son home to the Philippines. It was my first, greatest heartache and it will always be until now. I tried to be strong for my child’s future and my husband is giving 500 riyals share for my son monthly out of the 4000 riyals he is receiving from his salary, while I share 2000 riyals, Mas Madatung ako eh.. I did not bother to ask for more not unless it is my son’s birthday or it is Christmas time. Di ako demanding, Promise. Because I tried to understand his situation that he has another child to feed and my salary is higher. The loan I took, I am paying 2/3 of it monthly, while he shares 1/3 of it. Trying hard ako maging perpekto ng asawa. Every vacation we will divide our weeks from my place to his place. Nevertheless, another ill fated event occurred. We had a fight in his place. And his father suddenly involved himself in our argument and threw us out from their place, in the house I spent my money with which his father gambled as well. Lakas ng loob Kaya sigawan kami, PUTANG INa LUMAYAS KAYO DITO! Ako naman, e di layas. Masunuring Bata. He let his father throw us out in the middle of the night. Yet, I am strong (though sa utak ko, tang Ina pigilan MO naman ako asawa ko, and my situation be like, ASA KA GURL). So, I took my siblings with me and went to our relatives house. I could not fathom the fact that he let me wander in the middle of the night with my siblings. Parang, bahala ka kahit mamatay ka situation. Ganon. Nonetheless, ignorant me. We patched things up, I could not let my child grow up with a broken family. And the same goes by. My life revolved with same routine. Giving money, covering my child’s expenses and I let it all happen. My mistake,maganda pero gaga naman.. I believed in him. Really. Sabi nya kasi mabait sya. With the pangako also to fix the ownership of our house. (Asa PA more, ne.) And there it goes. Years passed, I got employed by a better employer in Saudi, higher salary. And again, he convinced me with another loan. And I gave in, tanga Lang pero maganda. Yan nalang pakonswelo sa sarili, pagbigyan na. So, I gave half of my loan to my husband. Then, I don’t know how cursed I am or him? His contract ended. Though there is a new employer willing to take him in. He refused. He said, he wanted to be with our son.. Ayyyy… natouch ako dun, gurl. So, I let him go back to Philippines, with investment plans, business plans and all even having a baby. Dami naming drawing, ay. Hanggang drawing Lang pala. Even, going home and taking care of our son, drawing din ay. Umasa ang Bata sa wala.. I did not oblige him to give monetary assistance to our son since July 2020 for the fact that, I wanted him to save the money he received from his severance pay in order to add up to our planned investments (planned talaga Yun, planado.. Planado nyang isugal at waldasin. ) Moreover, with cash assistance from me until he left to Philippines. Sugar mommy Lang.. Kagwapo ba? Hindi,

pangit po talaga asawa ko. Nabudol Lang talaga ako. When he arrived in taguig, first 2 months he is okay. That even when, he even asked for 100k, nag pauto uli ang gaga, PAK! MONEY TRANSFER, automatic ako bhie.. He said everything is going according to plan. (according to plan pala Para magwaldas) until, the mid of December 2020, he started having mood shifts, parang lalaking nireregla, inaaway ako tapos aamu-in kasi gusto ng cybersex. I tried to be more understanding, ang bait ko Kaya, because maybe because of LDR situation and the stress of pandemic. In spite of the mood swings, the indirect accusations and his possessive behaviors shows. From 2011 to 2020, of course, medyo kilala mo naman asawa mo e no.. From the eve of my birthday December 23, to the day of my birthday December 24, Pati pasko hang gang New Year. He was so fucking possessive that all I could do was to have a video call on him almost 24hours a day. If he wants cybersex, I have to give in, I have to show my body and play with it. Pokpok na pakiramdam ko.. Medyo first class naman siguro. Because if not, he will accuse me of having an affair. Speaking, he even says I have a man beside me and he hears the voices of the man. And me like, WHAAAAT??? My momo ba sa kwarto ko? And take note, he records our video calls. Then early January 2021, I was surprised by a post of a stranger to my FB account on my son’s picture, accusing my husband, a theft, a con man, stating ‘that your husband namely BLAH BLAH Blah owes me a 100k and promised to pay me back but he did not, you’re a family of thieves and so on. ‘ Nawindang ako, bhie. Agad Agad, delete post, teng ene.. Sa picture pa ng gwapo Kong anak. I confronted my husband, sya pa galit bhie and gradually, he admitted that he owes money to some people, and he cashed out all the money to his friends, and alcohols and gambling. BABAE? Meron ba?? Malay ko.. So, Nothing left. That’s when I thought, Kaya pala Kung ano ano akusasyon kasi sya mismo may kalokohang ginagawa. DEFENSE MECHANISM USED – PROJECTION Again, supportive wife here (tanga Lang, day, wishing ba) I said, it’s okay, it’s only money and so on. And I gave almost 40k just to have an end and have him start again to apply for jobs. I gave him links and ads and places to apply back abroad. Pero, ASA PA MORE. Waley.. Despite of what happened, the endless fight, accusations pa more, and demanding for money did not end. The messages of people I don’t know kept coming-in in my messenger. And my vacation day is here! I was very excited to be with him and make a baby. But fuck him, kahit sa eroplano iharap ko daw cp ko sa bawat taong katabi ko, gago sya. Para akong tangang inikot ang cp. And he was not satisfied at all, tagalan ko daw iharap ang cam.. E di wow, wag na.. Awayin nalang nya ako kesa ireklamo ako ng passengers. And hello Philippines during pandemic, quarantined in a high standard hotel. And of course, my great husband wants to barge-in in my hotel, because sabi nya I have a a lalake in my room.. May nakikita daw at naririnig, and me be like, Saan banda sa kwarto yang nakikita MO? Like, I really wants to see and hear it as well. Kaya, e di wow uli.. Ang lakas ko naman sa OWWA at coast guard Para bumali ng quarantine protocol.. I really tried.. I tried… and I tried… and I tried to fix our marriage… message after message of people I never knew and people I knew hoping I would be the one to pay the debts of my VERY GOOD HUSBAND, still surprises me. To the point that, Even looking at my messenger or FB gave me a phobia. I am so helpless.. Like, sheeeet… anong nangyare gurl? Saan ako kakapit. And my husband even wants to take charge of my son’s bank.. But no way..! LIKE TAMA NA, ULOL.! LALABAN ANG INA! BUT I REALLY Tried… nag effort ako… nagpakatanga ako.. Who wants a broken family for their child, right? Wala di ba? I tried to hide the flaws of our marriage from our son. I cried secretly, I hid the phone away when his father starts to shout at me. But you see, my son is smarter than me. He saw my tears, my

sadness. He caught his father shouting at me at times via videocall. Huli sa akto ni bulilit. Pero di ko Alam. My vacation ended with a failure to have a complete family bonding but accomplished mother and son bonding. I tried to fulfill my son’s needs with my existence alone. And hello me ngayon… nganga… Still lost… basag na basag… I tried to fix myself up… I have to, for my son’s future, I may not be accomplished with my marriage life, but thankfully God blessed my career as a Frontliner. My son’s has no one now but me. My husband still asks for money. I changed my FB name to Korean characters. I unfriended my husband to avoid those people he owes some money and people sending me, KAWAWA AKO KASI NILOKO AKO. Tama na uy. Masakit. Sobrang sakit.. Tao po ako… animal ang ugali pero Hindi bato.. But I am hiding all my tears and wounds from the people surrounding me even though they knew, ginago ako ng asawa ko. They did not bother to ask, they respect my silence and I thanked them for that. But in reality, I don’t know what to do. I felt stuck in a quicksand, slowly drowning in sorrows, sadness and frustrations. I was left behind, drowning. Tortured with this unexplained pain and agony. I am conned by my husband. I spent money on a house which will never be mine. I spent money which will never come back to me.. I was left, zero…. And I don’t know what to do… How can I help myself… When I don’t even know if our law can protect me and my child.. It is me and my child… Against a MAN who is supposed to be our protection but rather, the Man who thinks nothing but himself, he himself is a danger to me and my son. His delusions and hallucinations still continues. Baka may third eye asawa ko???? I don’t know. His unending hurtful messages kept pouring in. Even a recorded sound of the bed na yumuyogyog, he will send it to me. His unending demands of money. Like wow, bat di sya magtrabaho…. Sugar mommy ako??? Ako??? Gandang sugar mommy mo naman, bhie… I just wished…. I just hoped… The government will someday established a law for the wives who has been conned financially by their own husbands. May VAWC, PAO, PCW, et cetera but how come it is near yet so far…. I just don’t know the proper law to fight against him… I can’t annul him, it’s too expensive.. Hanggang sa patayin nya nalang siguro ako.. Legal separation? OMG, how about the house.. In short, sya nag enjoy sa bahay na dugo at pawis Kong pinundar. Our son? How can I demand monetary assistance when he is jobless… I asked legally, and nothing happened.. It only benefits him, not me and my son… Kaya wow.. Hanggang sa mamatay o mapatay nya ako ay.. Our Family Court aspires to fix marriages as much as possible, and it is good.. But does it means, wag maghiwalay, magpaabuso ka Hanggang sa mamatay. (sighed) So, here I am… What I am now? You can say, I am a wife, sexually and physically used by my husband according to his own time of desires and needs. I am a wife, who is financially and emotionally, mentally abused by my husband. I am a wife PROFESSIONALLY CONNED BY MY HUSBAND BEFORE HE CONNED OTHER PEOPLE.. I am his long term conned victim.

#VAWC #violence against women #stop the pain #women power #you are good enough #you are beautiful #women rights #you are loved #loveyourself #tumblog #tumblr

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lazyangeltreemoney · 4 years

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The Sweetest Baker In Brooklyn 1/???

Description: Bucky Barnes is one of the most feared mobsters in all of NYC, however he finds himself falling for the sweetest Baker in Brooklyn who has her own secrets and troubled past.

Word count: 1770

Pairing(s): Mob!Bucky x Parent!Reader

Warnings: violence, organised crime, alcoholism, abuse, FLUFF

A/N:Hi so this is the first Fic I’ve ever posted to this account, honestly not sure how long it will be yet but here’s chapater 1

Bucky was smiling like a child. He had been for the last few weeks, everyday at 2:30 on the dot he would head to YN’s café. It all started with Sam getting a sweet craving, Bucky could never understand how a grown man could be so obsessed with cupcakes and anything lathered in frosting but when he saw who was serving it he began to understand.

The pair had waltzed into a quaint cafe with pastries and cakes presented in the window. Sunlight shone through the windows and the whole place had a homely feeling. When the bell rang as they walked in, Y/N appeared behind the counter. She was dressed in a loose shirt with her black apron and skirt. A small spot of flour on her cheek and a warm smile on her face. Bucky would deny it to anyone who asked but it was love at first sight.

Ever since then at 2:30 on the dot Sam and Bucky would head to that quaint cafe. Bucky would always convince Sam to keep quiet about their routine by paying for anything there his sweet tooth desires.

The sun was shining, the busy NYC streets seemed like heaven to Bucky as he waltzed into the cafe.

“Mr. Wilson, what can I get you?” Y/N beamed seeing her two favourite customers walk in.

“Why do you never ask what I want Doll?” Bucky asked

“Because you always order a blueberry muffin and black coffee Mr. Barnes.”

Sam raised an eyebrow between the two. He was insisting that Bucky should just ask her out already. Bucky however always refused, saying how she was too nice of a gal to get dragged into all of his shit. Sam finally decided to go for Y/N’a coconut topped chocolate puff twists. The pair took a seat and Y/N went out back to get some ready for Sam.

As she did Martha, a young girl Y/N employed at the cafe wiped down their table.

“You boys back again… appreciating the view again Mr. Barnes” Martha teased

Bucky however was too lost in his thoughts watching Y/N make his coffee. La Vie En Rose came on and she was humming away, ‘Maybe she speaks french?’ He pondered. He wasn’t pulled away from his thoughts until he noticed Sam and Martha staring at him trying to not laugh at the lovesick fool.

Bucky, one of the most feared mobsters in all of New York had become infatuated by the sweetest baker in all of Brooklyn.

“Here you are Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson.” Y/N spoke lying down on the tray on the table.

“You know Doll when are you going to start calling us our names?” Bucky teases smirking at her.

Y/N couldn’t tell them the truth. The fact that it was because of how she was raised, that’s how she was told to always address men in suits. She was about to tell them it was just a formality she had with all customers until the phone rang.

“If you excuse me gentlemen.” Y/N smiled and ran to the phone.

Meanwhile Bucky took a sip of his coffee and Sam began to eat his pastry.

“So… she remembered your order.” Sam smirked

“I’m a regular, it means nothing.” Bucky argues back taking another sip.

“We get a lot of regulars and she doesn’t remember their orders.” Martha teases some more.

“Don’t you have tables to clean.” Bucky grimaced

Then suddenly Y/N came bursting out into the cafe holding her bag and coat.

“Martha, you’ll have to close up, it’s Benny.” Y/N huffed, fumbling for her car keys.

“Can’t your husband get him?” Martha smirked.

Martha knew Y/N had a husband but from what Martha has put together he was practically a deadbeat. Bucky on the other hand cringed, Y/N never seemed to be wearing a ring, although she could of just kept it off with all the baking she did? Was Bucky being a homewrecker?

Y/N just sighed. She wanted to yell ‘No because he’s probably in some motel fucking some stripper and forgotten his own name, let alone that he had a wife and child!’

“He’s at work” was all Y/N could muster

“So are you.” Martha stated

Y/N rolled her eyes and fumbled for her keys some more but couldn’t find them in her bag anywhere.

“Where the hell are they?” Y/N muttered

“Bucky could drive you.” Sam piped up.

Bucky practically spat out his coffee. Sam couldn’t help but smirk at him taking another bite of his pastry.

“I wouldn’t want to impose Mr. Barnes.” Y/N muttered as she searched for her keys some more.

“Let’s make a deal, I drive you to the school and you have to start calling me Bucky, that okay Doll?” Bucky offered.

Y/N was in a rush, the school did make it sound serious. Reluctantly she nodded and followed Bucky out of the cafe. Bucky led Y/N to a yellow mustang car. It was sparkling in the sun, looked imaculat and led Y/N to wonder what it was Bucky did for a living, however she knew better than to ask questions like that.

The drive itself was long and Y/N’s anxiety seemed to spill into the car. The pair sat in silence while Y/N’s thoughts became more and more paranoid about Benny. Finally, in an attempt to calm her, Bucky switched on the radio and fiddled around with the dials until ‘Unchained Melody’ came on. The music seemed to wash over Y/N and made a small sense of ease appear in her. Bucky smiled triumphantly at her. Y/N began to hum along quietly to the tune.

“It’s nice to know someone else likes this kind of music, Sam always calls me an old man for listening to it.” Bucky mentioned, occasionally taking his eyes off the road to glance at her.

“I usually dance around in the kitchen with Benny to this kind of stuff, he’s been my favourite dance partner since day one.” Y/N chuckled at the memories of Benny dancing with his feet on top of hers.

The two listened to the music some more until they were nearly at the school. Y/N’s anxiety seemed to peak again when she stepped out of the car.

“You’ll probably have to wait here, sorry.” Y/N explained as she ran into the school.

Bucky simply waited outside. He suddenly realised how wrong it felt to enjoy her company so much. She was sweet and lovely, she had good taste in music… but she also had a kid and husband. Bucky had done many things but he wouldn’t ruin her like that.

He waited in the some more and he turned the radio up some more to drown out his thoughts. He even lit himself up a cigarette and took one long drag until Y/N emerged holding a small young boy in her arms. It was clear he had been crying and was in some form of a fight, his shirt was dirty and he had scraps on his knees. Bucky quickly threw away the cigarette and Y/N got close to the car. She looked like she had been through some form of a fight herself, although more of a mental one. Bucky looked at her and was reminded of what his mother always used to say; ‘Never mess with a mother’s child or you’ll see the wrath of mother’s love’.

“Should I ask?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“I think I just need to get home” Y/N sighed and got into the car.

Bucky happily obliged and drove them home. Benny was wrapped into Y/N’s arms as Bucky made sure to drive carefully as to not wake him. Y/N on the other hand looked as if she wouldn’t be sleeping for the next few nights. Her mind was playing through all the scenarios of what could happen if her husband was home. He was never the loving or caring kind, he wouldn’t be prepared to try and see things from Beeny’s side. He certainly would punish him if he found out he’d been suspended, which Y/N could never let happen. Deep down she hated him, hated how he made her feel so weak and useless, how he hit her, how he would go off for weeks at a time getting drunk or sleeping with various hookers. Above all that she hated how her father had practically married her off to him, only to try and get inside the Rumlow family. Her only joys in life were her son and the cafe.

“I don’t mean to impose,” Bucky spoke, breaking her from her thoughts, “But you never seem to wear your ring.”

“I don’t want to risk anything happening to it at the cafe, with all the baking I have a reoccuring nightmare of it ending up in a cake and a customer choking on it.” Y/N sighed.

Benny murmured a little in his sleep and wringled around a little bit. Y/N smiled at her little boy.

“He seems to be out cold.” Bucky chuckled.

“He’s always been a heavy sleepier.” Thank god.

The more Bucky looked at the little tike he seemed to remind him of Steve. His blonde hair, how small he was and the familiar scuffs on his knees.

Bucky finally pulled up at the house, it looked almost exactly how he imagined it would look. It was a homely little house, no lights were on inside and he noticed how Y/N seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Y/N wanted so badly to thank Bucky, maybe invite him inside for some coffee, but Benny had to come first and she had to put him to bed before Brock came home. So instead she simply promised him the next coffee and blueberry muffin was on the house.

“Thankyou again Mr- Bucky.” Y/N smiled.

“Anytime Doll.” Bucky smiled back at her.

He knew it was risky, he knew he shouldn’t… but she just looked so beautiful. So he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before waltzing back into his car and driving off.

Y/N felt her face hot up, she wanted to run after him but Benny began to stir and wake up.

“Mommy, where’s that man… he played nice music, like you do?” Benny murmerd

“He’s mommy’s friend… he’s gone for now.” Y/N explained walking into the house, flicking on the lights.

Y/N found a few empty bottles of alcohol on the kitchen counter but nothing more to indicate her husband was home.

“I hope we see him again.” Benny yawned.

“Me too, Love.” Y/N replied, taking Benny upstairs to bed.

#bucky x reader #mob!bucky #parent!reader #singleparent!reader #mob!au #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky x reader #baker!reader

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asiaberkeley · 3 years

Text

Afghan is beautiful

I am a half Afghan woman. An Afghan-European American. An Afghan American.

Admittedly, it took me awhile to offer up this information in the aftermath of 9/11 when Afghanistan became synonymous with terrorism in the eyes of many Americans. Taking pride in my heritage suddenly and painfully became controversial.

People didn’t know about my Afghan-ness though because I had my mother’s surname and not my Pashtun father’s: Hotaki. Also, I didn’t wear any kind of head covering because I was raised Catholic. It was easy to hide and pass for completely White.

My late father, an aspiring doctor and med school student who spoke six languages, left Kabul with his family before the Soviet Invasion of Afghanistan as a child. They were the lucky ones. He spent most of his life in Germany where many Afghans have sought refuge. One of my fondest memories is flying kites with him and my Irish-Swedish-French American mother in the Munich Public Gardens as a child. There was no wind that day and we dragged the kites in dizzy circles…laughing together...just as I imagine him now when he was a boy: kite flying in the streets of Kabul.

Since my father died when I was six, I returned to my mother’s hometown of Boston with her in 1996. I was later left to contemplate what it meant to be Afghan in a place with very few Afghans compared to Virginia, California, and New York. In college, as an Asian Studies major at Wellesley College and later at the University of California, Berkeley, I often corrected people who said that Afghanistan is in the Middle East and not in South-Central Asia. I wondered why it seemed that no one had received much education on this country’s history or people outside of reading the popular Khaled Hosseini novel, The Kite Runner, especially since we have been at war—fighting together with the Afghan forces against the Taliban in the longest war in American history.

Many Americans don’t realize that the attackers on 9/11 were not Afghan. The attackers did seek a hiding and meeting place in Afghanistan, however. But those facts shouldn’t matter. Because it doesn’t matter what ethnicity, race, or nationality someone is if they commit a crime and it doesn’t matter where they were hiding. The guilty party does not represent all people of their background or country just like Hitler does not represent all Germans or all of Germany and El Chapo does not represent Mexico or all Mexicans. Similarly, the latest mass shooter in El Paso doesn’t represent all white American men.

After former President Trump pondered out loud the mere possibility of a concocted plan to kill 10 million Afghans and wipe the country off the face of the earth – presumably through the use of nuclear weapons – I have thought more about what it means to be Afghan American today. And it’s not because of those unimaginably cruel musings which add insult to injury in the homes of all Afghans traumatized by decades of war. Indeed, nearly every person who is not a white man has been made to feel worthless, subhuman and criminal under the rhetoric of the former Trump administration...so Afghans are not alone.

But Afghans were alone in the discussion of their genocide in 2019. I have contemplated my identity even more because not one leader or politician in America of any background spoke out formally against those disturbing statements. (And it doesn’t matter if this was an actual plan of his or just an imaginary scenario dangling in the recesses of his mind.) What does the national silence mean?

After 9/11, Afghan American author of West of Kabul, East of New York and Destiny Disrupted, Tamim Ansary, went viral with an email he sent. In it, he wrote:

“The Taliban and Bin Laden are not Afghanistan. They’re not even the government of Afghanistan. The Taliban are a cult of ignorant psychotics who captured Afghanistan in 1997 and have been holding the country in bondage ever since. Bin Laden is a political criminal with a master plan. When you think Taliban, think Nazis. When you think Bin Laden, think Hitler. And when you think “the people of Afghanistan” think “the Jews in the concentration camps.” It’s not only that the Afghan people had nothing to do with this atrocity, they were the first victims of the perpetrators. They would love for someone to eliminate the Taliban and clear out the rats nest of international thugs holed up in their country. I guarantee it…Some say, if that’s the case, why don’t the Afghans rise up and overthrow the Taliban themselves? The answer is, they’re starved, exhausted, damaged, and incapacitated.”

After 2001, my family warned me that just telling people I was Afghan may offend or anger them because they may have lost a loved one on 9/11 or they may have had a son or daughter deployed to Afghanistan. In middle school, a classmate told me I was from the land of the terrorists after I proudly showed her an autographed book I received from an Afghan British writer, Saira Shah, called "The Storyteller's Daughter." My American cousin, a veteran, was later deployed to Afghanistan and brought back a burqa which I showed to my classmates in high school to teach them about the Taliban’s oppression. Contrary to what they may have assumed, what they saw was not traditional Afghan clothing. Traditional Afghan clothing, banned under the Taliban, is colorful, intricate, deeply hued, bright and beautiful. Google it.

A year has passed since Trump discussed wiping Afghanistan off the face of the earth. After it happened, I regularly checked Twitter and the news to see if any of our nation’s leaders denounced those remarks. I called my Governor, Congresspeople, and many others asking if just one would put out a statement to support Afghans and Afghan Americans against talk of our annihilation. The Governor’s office simply said that he did not put out a statement. I still haven’t found any. However, some Americans did speak out on social media. Thank you.

We have studied the long-lasting horrors of the U.S. nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in our classrooms. I thought we concluded as a nation that something like that could never happen again. That not a single person in power thought it worth it to speak out against the possibility of the U.S. committing another nuclear genocide bewilders and frightens me. Is it controversial to say out loud that Afghans civilians do not deserve to die en masse? Are Afghans so vilified in our society that it’s a public risk to defend us?

If you still blame the Afghan people for 9/11 even if only on an subconscious level, think again. Many of the Afghan people are suffering in ways you can only imagine in your worst nightmares. They are not responsible and took no part in this. Like the poor souls who were killed in the Twin Towers, Afghans are survivors and casualties of terrorism as well. Afghan women have lost their entire families. They have been abused and pillaged. Men, women, and children have been bombed and maimed. Their history, including the rich Buddhist Silk Road history of Afghanistan, has been destroyed by the Taliban and others.

Discussing our nation's capability to conduct nuclear genocide of an entire people and country is an affront to all humans.

So I suggest to all of our nation’s leaders who have remained tight-lipped in the face of the unspeakable: Take time to learn something you don’t know about Afghanistan. Perhaps that could start with the story of progressive Afghan Queen and feminist Soraya Tarzi who asked, "Do you think, however, that our nation from the outset only needs men to serve it? Women should also take their part as women did in the early years of our nation..." Or it could be about the life and death of iconic Afghan singer Ahmad Zahir. You could learn about the courageous resistance of Afghan women and girls throughout history or visit that Afghan restaurant you were too timid to enter and try a sweet pumpkin kadoo dish.

As the war in Afghanistan, a war based on lies and deceit, may be coming to another tragic end with even graver implications for the women left behind who have fought so hard for equality, maybe it’s finally time to read another book that is not the Kite Runner... and most importantly, time to look deep inside of ourselves and question the possible anger, hate and bias that has developed towards the Afghan people after the catastrophic and traumatizing events of September 11, 2001.

*See the Washington Post’s Afghanistan Papers which deemed that the American military did not know what it was doing there and that the war was based on lies and deceit. Government officials misled the American public about the war. The war has cost the lives of thousands of American soldiers with many more wounded as well as 100,000+ Afghan civilians killed or hurt. Many of the American troops have returned with PTSD. 30% of the Afghan casualties were children.

Sources

https://apnews.com/a2a8d7a4f89ec0515379dc4d4a38b56a

https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/2019/investigations/afghanistan-papers/documents-database/

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