#and my house wellies for wearing in and around the house

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 06)

Johnny texts you while he's deployed, but when he calls you one night, you are forced to face your consequences.

MDNI/18+

Link to AO3

OCTOBER, MONDAY MORNING, TWO WEEKS LATER

Your apartment was bathed in the cold gray light of a foggy morning, and you curled your duvet closer around you trying to stave off the dawn’s chill. You’d been awake for a while, which was very uncharacteristic of you. Usually more of a late riser, the only reason for your early bird behavior was Johnny MacTavish. 

He was three hours ahead of you, and every morning, when the sun came up in the Urzikstani hillside, you were sent an image of Johnny’s hand, clutching whatever his breakfast was that day. Sometimes it was a tin cup of black coffee, other times you’d get a banana or a protein bar. But, it was always his giant hand and a sherbet orange sky. This morning, it was cloudy and dark, and his breakfast of choice was a slab of toast, smeared with butter and jam. 

MoChroi: sunrise_sand.jpg

You: wow. quite the delicacy today. cant believe you found actual jam out there

Mo Chroi: bit suspicious. when the food gets better the missions get worse

You: uh oh

Mo Chroi: dinnae fash thief xx

Mo Chroi: writing today?

You: yep. and meeting with my prof

Mo Chroi: what ya got on then

Mo Chroi: give us a show bonnie

Mo Chroi: is it naughty?? lol

You: nope

You: rangers_tee.jpg

You sent a photo of your torso, cutting out your head, wearing his own tee shirt. His typing bubbles percolated along the bottom of the screen immediately. Then, an indignant response:

Mo Chroi: thief!! xx

You: youre the one who stole my hair tie

Mo Chroi: hairtie.jpg

Mo Chroi: needed a hostage

Mo Chroi: your bad habits are rubbin off. stole cap’s clothes out of the shower this morning

Mo Chroi: price_hat.jpg

You: you learn quick mo chroi

His typing bubbles appeared, and then they disappeared. You watched them pop up in the chat and then vanish three more times until finally all you got was silence. This was a common occurrence, so you tried not to overthink it. Over the past two weeks of texting with him, you knew he disappeared sometimes. He’d get a call to go into the field, or there would be some crisis. You wondered if his captain had discovered his prank. 

The room was still cold, and you were reluctant to leave your cocoon of warmth, but you needed to write. You had promised yourself that you’d go into the office early today before your meeting with your major professor. After a deep sigh and some very challenging mental gymnastics, you stuck a leg out and onto the frigid concrete floor.

Your apartment was very modern. So modern, in fact, that it had been a challenge to make it feel homey. There was very little room inside for anything more than a queen bed, a short futon, and your desk. Your bathroom was sleek and full of brutalist, functional, concrete stylings, but the kitchen was barely big enough for a sink and a toaster oven. You had kept the futon for guests, not that you had many (any) visitors, but aside from the stacks of books in the corners of each room, your entire studio was practical to a fault. 

But, it was enough for you and your rescue cat, Marlowe, so you didn’t complain.

On the wall opposite the front door, a huge plexiglass window overlooked the River Kelvin, conveniently situated right across from some student housing so you could access the bus. Not having a car went against your Floridian roots, but you’d fallen in love with the ease of public transportation. 

After throwing on an oversized sweater and a pair of fleece-lined leggings, you slipped on your wellies and headed to the bus stop. You’d brought a big thermos of coffee, ready to face the day. 

Your phone buzzed again.

Pidge: I’m so excited to see you this weekend!! :D

You: me too! is hammie picking me up after all or no

Pidge: Yes, I told him to be at the platform at 4.

You: cool 

Pidge: Have you spoken with my brother?

You paused for a moment, riding the elevator and staring at your phone. You didn’t want to lie to her, but you probably shouldn’t tell her the truth. The truth was that you’d been texting her brother every day since he left for leave. You went with a half-truth instead:

You: yeah a few times why

She did not respond. You waited for the other shoe to drop like a blindfolded prisoner waits for their firing squad. The bus came to your stop, and you climbed on, sitting on the carpeted seat closest to the door, knowing your stop was only three away. 

When you got to your office, your phone buzzed again. You set your bag and your coffee down before you even looked at it, avoiding touching your cell as if it had thorns. 

You flipped over the screen.

Mo Chroi: make it to the office?

You: office.jpg

Mo Chroi: have a good day today thief

Mo Chroi: helicopter1.jpg

Mo Chroi: going on a wee trip. afk xx

You: promise xx

Mo Chroi: promise xx

Promise. Promise. It was you and Johnny’s little code. You hadn’t liked hearing about his “little trips” in the beginning, especially after he had shown you a photo of his truck, riddled with bullet holes. You used to say “good luck”, but you didn’t like that sound of that. You hoped luck had nothing to do with it. So, you just asked him to promise to text you back or to promise to be safe. And he always replied that he promised he would. Now, it had shortened to your one-word ritual. You always said it and he always said it back. 

Another buzz:

Pidge: No reason. He has my phone charge the little nugget.

You: omg lol 

You were not laughing out loud. If anything, you were sighing in relief. 

It took most of the morning, but you fell into a routine. You had your meeting, came back, and wrote some more. Lunch was a pre-packaged lunch box from the student center and a refill on your coffee. You missed dinner. The sun set on you as you finished a critical section of your thesis, looking it over for flow and mistakes. 

Worn out, and finally feeling hungry again, you checked your phone on your way back to the bus stop. No new messages. You waited for the bus, flipping through his photos again as if you would have forgotten them from when you looked at them from last night. Or the night before last. 

You stopped looking at them, challenging yourself to have a non-Johnny thought in your head for once.

Maybe you would make a ramen with eggs in it tonight. 

Maybe he’ll text you back. 

You could watch another episode of that K-drama you liked. 

Maybe he’ll send you a picture of him shirtless.

You could go for a run.

Maybe he will run his tongue back over your —

The bus came. You blocked out your thoughts from your mind, desperate to regain some semblance of control. 

THURSDAY NIGHT

It had been three days, and you still hadn’t heard from him. You tried not to think about all of the terrible reasons why that might be the case. But, you did. You thought about them all the time. Every time you checked your phone or read an email or scrolled through your feeds; it was the only thing you thought about. 

You had his shirt on again, eating leftover Chinese on your futon. You were thinking about all of the things you needed to take care of before tomorrow. It was Pidge’s bridal shower weekend and you were trying to wrangle all the final touches together. You’d rented out Ettrick’s, at Pidge’s request, and you had sent the invites two weeks ago. Almost everyone had RSVP’d yes, so you were looking at nearly 45 people to host. The custom bridal cookies were set for pick up when Hamish took you into town tomorrow afternoon, and the champagne was paid for. And you were dreading it. 

You were excited to be there for Brigette. She had always been there for you. When you first moved to Scotland, you were well and truly alone. But, she met you for lunch almost every day after class, claiming to need her caffeine fix. But, as time went on, you realized she wanted to be friends. Having no one and being in a new country was so tough, but she had made it feel so easy. So, even though you hated the prim and proper social situation of a shower, you resolved to tough it out. 

You put the half-eaten Chinese back in the fridge and climbed into bed. Your phone buzzed as you went to put it on the charger.

Mo Chroi: you up?

Your heart stopped for a moment, making your breath hitch in your chest. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to open his message.

Mo Chroi: camels.jpg

You: omg! are those REAL

You: shes not a camel but ill trade you one critter pic for a Marlowe pic

You: marlowethecat.jpg

Mo Chroi: her cheeks are brilliant lol so big

You: so your mission went okay?

Mo Chroi: lol yeah. and we got the guy who owned the camels to take a cool pic of us. can you tell which one’s me?

Mo Chroi: group_pic.jpg

You: gotta be number 3

Mo Chroi: how’d you know

You: your wide shoulders. and you always stand like that

Mo Chroi: like my shoulders do you

You: yep 

You: you should send me a selfie

There was a long pause. You were a little afraid that you’d overstepped a boundary. Sure, his long, hungry tongue had been buried between your legs three weeks ago, eating you like he was starving, but people were cagey about their online privacy. You backtracked:

You: if you want to. nbd if not

Mo Chroi: selfie.jpg

You checked the image, and your heart sank like a stone. Johnny wore a green and yellow bruise over his eye, and his head had been shaved.

You: you okay? bruise looks nasty

Mo Chroi: you should see the other lad

You: and they shaved you?

Mo Chroi: got a nasty wee cut on the back of my head and doc sheared me like a damn sheep

He sent you a series of frowny faces and sheep emojis, and you felt a wave of calm settle in your chest. The latent fear was still there, and would be until you saw him again, but it was good to know he was alright. 

FRIDAY MORNING

You were back on the bus, toting around your overnight bag, planning on heading to the train straight after your colloquium lecture this afternoon. Your phone had been beeping at you all morning. Johnny was begging for you to record your talk, asking you to let him sit in on your “class”. 

You: johnny its not a class! its just a lecture. we have to give them every now and then to show what we’ve been doing with our research. its not fun. you’d be bored.

Mo Chroi: meirleach! i dinnae care how fun it is. let me see!!

You: campus.jpg

You: look. its all stuffy and campusy. you wouldnt like it

Mo Chroi: youre breaking my heart lass xx

You smiled. He was so bright, and he made you feel like you were so very special. It was no wonder he was such a danger to single women everywhere. Your confidence was soaring.

When you made it to your office, you sent him another picture of your current work. You were writing a short paper on German poems, not really related to your thesis, for a conference coming up in the spring.

You: look. you dont even speak german! it would be like torture

You: german_poem.jpg   

Mo Chroi: so cool. im beggin you. let me watch you. i won’t say a word. 

You: maybe if you come back a little early from leave next time, you can sneak into one

Mo Chroi: if i survive this training, i will. 

Mo Chroi: thinking about seeing you up there teaching. got me all turned on

You sent him an emoji with a shocked look on its face, feigning coy shyness. He was relentless.

Mo Chroi: think youd let me be teachers pet?

You: more like class clown

Mo Chroi: you did seem fond of all of my tricks. wanna see what else i can do?

You: lecture_hall.jpg

You: i have to prep for this talk. keep your naughty thoughts to yourself soldier

Mo Chroi: yes maam 

Mo Chroi: wait!

You: what

Mo Chroi: before you go. what color knickers are you in

Mo Chroi: just trying to imagine your lecture 

Mo Chroi: with accuracy

Mo Chroi: cmon lass. for extra credit

You smiled down at your phone again, knowing your answer was going to win this little back and forth game he was playing.

You: im not wearing any this morning. gonna do my washing at your place.

Mo Chroi: jesus mary and joseph

You: and all the saints?

Mo Chroi: every one of them xx

Your lecture went off without a hitch. You earned yourself a few crowd questions and a round of polite applause. Stopping back by your office on the way out, you grabbed your laptop and headed for the bus stop. You’d forgotten your phone was on silent, and it wasn’t until you made it to the train station that you realized it. Two missed calls from Pidge and three texts from her brother.

You checked the texts as you returned her call, unable to hold yourself back from seeing what he wrote to you.

She answered quickly,

“Hey! Are you on your way?”

“Yep,” you replied, “I’ll be there around three forty-five, I think.”

“Okay, perfect. I just wanted to tell you that we’re adding two more to the list. Anjali invited Steph and Tiff. Is that alright, babes?”

You tried not to groan directly into the mouthpiece,

“Yes! The more the merrier.”

What were you going to do about the seating chart? You’d figure it out later. 

“Fantastic! You’re amazing, hen. You know that?”

“Anything for you, bestie.”

She kissed you over the phone and hung up. You let out that sigh you’d been holding. As much as you loved her, you were ready for your friend’s wedding to be over with..

You checked the messages from Johnny, looking to escape from your thoughts again. He was the perfect distraction.

Mo Chroi: oh fuck no

Mo Chroi: its dog day for training

Mo Chroi: army_dog.jpg

You: you dont like dogs?

Mo Chroi: not these

Mo Chroi: had a bad time with attack dogs in russia a few tours back

The train arrived and you got settled. You weren’t sure how to respond. It was back again, that funny feeling in your chest about him being in constant danger. You didn’t know how to handle it. It wasn’t like you could ask him to stop. That was his job, and he was one of the best. He’d been enlisted on this elite task force, and even though you barely understood what that meant, you knew it was special. What right did you have to stand in the way of his greatness? The world needed Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, and you were just a distraction. 

You waited for him to text again, a distraction for you and you for him. A two-way street. That’s all it was, right? How could it be anything more? 

You thought about his sister. She’d been so painfully clear about her boundaries. You imagined telling her you liked him, telling her you wanted to date him. She’d explode. There’d be Scottish yelling, and Scottish fighting, and Scottish siblings rowing at each other all over the house. You couldn’t do that to her, especially not now. So, you just went back to distracting him.

You: did you get bitten?

Mo Chroi: yeah, right on the belly. those bastards. can you see it 

Mo Chroi: shirtless.jpg

You gasped audibly, hoping no one had heard you on the train. You’d already seen him naked, but having a picture of his bare, muscled torso on your phone was another thing entirely. You glanced around, checking behind you and clutching your screen to your chest, holding it to you shamefully, praying no one saw it. 

You typed a message, then deleted it. You tried again, and then deleted it. You knew he could see your text bubbles popping up, and it embarrassed you to no end. Eventually, you decided to just be honest.

You: youre so damn hot

The wait was going to kill you. Seconds became minutes, which became hours, which became eons. You stared at the bottom of your message like it would disappear if you looked away. You opened the picture of his bare torso again, unable to stop yourself from indulging in his huge body. You knew how those muscles felt, and you wanted to feel them again.

He didn’t respond. Your heart sank like a rock. You felt the train screech to a halt at the station, and it took everything in you to pocket your phone and leave the car.

You marched down to meet Hamish, trying to control the look on your face. 

“Hey! Over here!” he called to you from the carpark.

You saw his smiling face and tried to match his energy,

“Hey! Thanks for coming.”

“You bet,” he said as he took your bags. 

“Can we stop by the bakery around the corner? They’ve got all the cookies and pastries we ordered for tomorrow.”

“Of course, lass. No problem. Hop in.”

Hamish drove you around, the perfect gentleman, carrying box after box of dessert for his fiance’s shower, storing them carefully in the boot of the car. 

“Wow, these smell incredible, don’t they,” he crooned, “Wish I could crash your wee party.”

“No boys allowed,” you said wryly, smiling at him, eliciting a genuine laugh.

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence. He talked a little about his research, and you shared a bit about yours, mentioning your latest lecture. Otherwise, you checked your phone constantly. 

Then, just as you pulled into the driveway of the MacTavish house, you got a text.

Unknown: Hello this is Captain John Price. Sergeant MacTavish’s phone is dead, and he is making me text you the word: promise. 

You: oh thank you. can you tell him promise back?

Captain: Roger

Your stomach twisted for a different reason now. He wasn’t upset with you, which was a relief, but he had just shipped out on another mission. It was so sudden, it seemed like an emergency. You saved the captain’s number in your phone, just in case. 

After hugging Pidge and helping Hamish with the boxes, you unpacked your bags and started the laundry. You met Pidge in the living room, watching her put the finishing touches on some gift bags.

“These are cute,” you commented, feeling the soft ripple of the ribbons tied around the bags in your fingers. 

“Thanks,” she said as she fixed one of the bows, “Hope I made enough.” 

“They’ll live,” you smiled. 

“Hey, did you hear from Johnny again?”

“Uh…no, why?” You panicked.

“He said he doesn’t have my charger but now that muppet is not answerin’ me. Gonna pop him when he’s down for Christmas, I swear.”

“He’s coming back for the holidays?” You asked, a little too enthusiastically. 

Pidge cut her eyes up at you briefly, responding in a measured voice,

“Yeah, just a week. Why?”

You wracked your brain for a reason, pretending to look at the calendar on your phone. Finally, you said,

“Think he’d drive me up from Glasgow? The train is awful at Christmas.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “God, he’s so irresponsible, babes. Not sure I trust him to get you here on time. But, I’ll threaten him. He’ll do it for me. He’s been so accommodating lately. Johnny boy is like a new man.”

“Oh, really?” You weren’t sure where this conversation was going, but you pried anyway.

“Did you know he paid for the rehearsal dinner? The whole damn thing! Having it at the wee distillery and everything. Right proper party we’ll be havin’. Cannae believe it.”

The Auchentoshan Distillery was Old Kilpatrick’s pride and joy. He’d spent a pretty penny if he’d booked it out for her.

“He loves you,” you confessed softly.  

“He tries to,” she said a little bitterly.

You watched her pack up the bags, and you began to wonder about their relationship with each other. It was clear to you that there was some immovable object that was being pressed upon by some unstoppable force. They were at a quiet, bubbling impasse, ready to boil over at any moment. Yes, they loved each other. But, Johnny and Pidge had diverged somewhere, and it was a rift that needed to be mended. 

The washer buzzed. You went to move over the clothes. 

“I’m heading over to grab the girls. Wanna come?” Pidge asked you, her keys in hand. 

“No room,” you observed, realizing they wouldn’t all fit in the car.

“Ugh, guess you’re right, hen. No worry, we’ll be right back. I’m excited to have a girls’ night.”

“Me, too,” you lied. 

Well, it was a half-lie. You didn’t mind a girls’ night. It was more the fact that you’d have to hide your phone from view as you waited for Johnny to report he was back safe and sound. 

After Pidge left, you crawled into his sheets. The memories of you and your soldier came flooding back again, but this time they swirled together with all of the complexities that you were facing. The simplicity of that brief night you shared had become warped by reality, and you realized you needed to come to terms with your emotions before you got hurt. 

FRIDAY EVENING

Your phone buzzed in your hand, waking you. It was warm from being on the charger and covered up by your body. You hoped that didn’t break anything. Sleep had taken you over like a surging wave. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from your week. 

Unknown: heyyyyy this is soaps mate kyle. he wanted to let you know we’re back. 

You: thanks for letting me know

Kyle: you bet

You were kicking yourself. You should have asked if he was okay. Just when you were about to ask Kyle to check on him, you heard the keys jingle in the door. Swinging your feet to the wooden floor, you got out of bed and met the gaggle of ladies in the foyer.

Cheek kisses, bright hellos and how-are-yous filled the once-quiet house, and you pocketed your phone, trying to distance yourself from the pang of concern. 

You tried to keep up with the fast-paced conversation, but you weren’t the social butterfly that Pidge was. Anjali, Bekah, and Cherise were all gushing about their own lives, and you had very little to share. They were polite enough, asking you about your studies and pretending to care when you answered them.

“Oh, cool,” Cherise said, sipping on wine out of one of Pidge’s nicer glasses, “Poems are cool.”

“Yeah, I was Juliet in that one play,” Bekah said, proudly. 

“And she’ll never let us forget it either,” Anjali rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed.

They were quick to forget you again, turning back to their recent Tinder date disasters and successes. 

“And this bloke - the one with the beard thing - he ask me and this other girl to the same restaurant, on the same night! I thought she was gonna kill him right there in front of the maître de!” Anjali lamented.

Cherise smiled like a Cheshire cat, 

“Lachlan is taking me on his boat next weekend.”

“We know! Shut up about the boat, you slag,” Bekah clipped. 

Cherise shot back quickly, 

“You’re just mad ‘cause Soap hasn’t texted you today.”

You gave the girls your full attention now. You darted your eyes to Pidge who rolled them, but looked otherwise unbothered. Bekah turned her phone around and you saw the image she was eager to display,

“He’s on bloody thin ice. I asked for a pic of him in his uniform, and all he sent me was a picture of some nasty sand!”

Your chest clenched tight enough that you couldnt breathe. It was your picture. Your morning photo from a few days ago. He was holding his breakfast, outstretched, and you could even see your hair tie on his wrist, the rolling dunes of the desert stretching out before him into infinity. 

“Men, am I right?” Anjali finished her wine. 

Maybe she was right. 

SATURDAY MORNING

You’d slept beside Anjali that night, sharing the bed willingly but not enthusiastically. She had snored through most of it, and you’d barely gotten any sleep. It wasn’t just her snoring that kept you up. In fact, you were using her as a scapegoat. You had been thinking about Johnny. 

It was like you were having a war in your mind. On one hand, it was just a picture of some sand, but on the other, you had no idea how many texts they had shared before or after that. Your heart broke easily, shattering melodramatically, whining about how you weren’t special and that if you didnt control yourself, you’d be sorry for it. He was just a playboy, just like everyone said.

Your brain, however, begged you to see reason. He sent her a picture of sand, not his naked torso, and he had forced his teammates to text you your passcode when he went on his mission. Surely that was enough proof that he cared about you and not Bekah.

It wasn’t enough, said the heart. 

It has to be enough, said the head. 

It shouldn’t even be happening, said the soul. 

You watched the sun peek through the blinds just as they had when you’d been wrapped in Johnny’s arms, naked and warm against his pink skin. 

You sighed and got up to shower. 

The party was at two, so you had plenty of time. You made it over to Ettrick’s early to help set up, walking alone since you knew the others would be in heels and wouldn’t all fit in the car. You’d brought flats, sensible but stylish, and a comfortable, albeit sparkly, maxi dress. You felt like shit. Sleep would have been nice, you thought. 

Hamish had delivered all of the boxes for you this morning, and the wait staff at Ettrick’s was setting it out for you. You rearranged it as artfully as you could, and you were just about finished when your phone buzzed.

Mo Chroi: phone’s alive! sorry i disappeared on you thief. forgive me?

You: glad youre ok

You: party starts soon

You: cookies.jpg

You: dessert_table.jpg

Mo Chroi: wow! did you do all that? pigeon is gonna be chuffed

Mo Chroi: heading out to the next spot

Mo Chroi: helicopter2.jpg

You: want me to tell Bekah hi? she was waiting on you to text her back last night

Mo Chroi: ?? no 

Mo Chroi: why 

Mo Chroi: what did she say

Mo Chroi: thief? 

You: just that she was hoping you would text her back. idk

You thought about it for a little while before sending a final text.

You: i think she wanted more than just a sunrise. 

SATURDAY NIGHT

You had three missed calls from Johnny, but you were too busy trying to deal with gift unwrapping, keeping the peace at the over-crowded tables, and rushing out appetizer trays when the wait staff became too overwhelmed. It was chilly tonight, but you were sweating under your long dress. 

You thought about what you’d said to Johnny, and you were mad at yourself for trying to get a rise out of him. You didn’t want to be the one playing games, and you needed to curb your jealousy. He was allowed to text whoever he wanted, just like you were.

You: sorry. cant pick up. busy with your sister

You: champagne.jpg

Mo Chroi: answer my calls thief

Mo Chroi: i have to drive the rig but im calling you as soon as we get to our site

Mo Chroi: trucks.jpg

Mo Chroi: at least tell me when you get back. promise

You: promise

SUNDAY, 0200

You: i made it back to my apartment. hamish drove me. train was down for maintenance.

You: marlowe-in-a-bag.jpg

You: marlowe is mad that i was gone

Mo Chroi: im glad youre alright.

Mo Chroi: gaz took this at our training today

Mo Chroi: group_pic2.jpg

You: yall look tough

You: whos the one in the middle

Mo Chroi: thats the captain and ghost has the dog

Mo Chroi: go to bed thief. its late 

Mo Chroi: sunrise2.jpg

Mo Chroi: can i call you later? its important

You: ok

SUNDAY, NOON

You woke to the sound of rain. A loud peal of thunder pulled you from the darkness of your sleep. You would have stayed with Pidge, but you just couldn’t face his bed again. Hamish was happy to be your chauffeur, even after you learned that the train was out of service. You tried to buy him some gas, but he adamantly refused. 

A headache stung behind your eyes, drilling into you, punishing you for the champagne. You hadn’t been drunk, but it had been sweet, and now you were paying the price for your sugar rush. You checked your phone.

Pidge: hHad such a great night!!. Thanku for everytingf i lov youuuu!!

Pidge: omg Anji just boked inthe sink

You didn’t reply. She was probably still asleep, along with the rest of the household. There was nothing from Johnny, yet. It wasn’t unusual. He was busy with terrorism, you figured. He would text you if he wanted to text you. 

Digging in your freezer, you found some leftover soup and put it on to reheat. Your phone rang.

The selfie of you and Johnny at Glencoe flashed onto your screen. You let it ring again before you picked up.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

“You still asleep, thief. I’m sorry to wake you,” he didn’t sound sorry. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “Just making some soup. Rainy here. Cold.”

You: rainy_window.jpg

He groaned, and you could hear the creak of a mattress in the background,

“Mm. Spent the whole day on my belly doing target practice. I miss home.”

Mo Chroi: sniperpractice.jpg

“Yeah? Looks sandy and hot. Too bad there’s no beach,” you stirred the soup.

“I miss you, mo mèirleach.”

You stopped stirring the soup. 

“I miss you, too.”

“Do you? Or are you cross about my texting Beks?”

“Both,” you went back to stirring the soup.

“Sent it to Hamish, too. You cross about tha’?”

You sent back silence. 

“And if I told you Bekah’s an old friend from grammar school, and that’s all she’ll ever be, would you believe me, lass?”

Silence was all you had to give, apparently. Finally, you poured the soup into a big bowl and set it down on your coffee table, shoving your papers and books aside, and said, 

“This soup looks amazing. Wanna see it?”

You: soup.jpg

“Thief. She’s just a friend.”

“I think there’s a song about this actually…”

“I think I’m fallin’ for you, and I need to know if you’re fallin’ for me, too.”

The bite of soup you were about to take hovered in your spoon, frozen in time. You could hear him breathing in your ear, waiting on your response. You could feel your heart shudder in your chest. 

“Johnny. We can’t…”

“Don’t. Don’t start with tha’ mess, thief. Tell me you aren’t fallin’ for me, and I’ll stop. No more texts. I’ll leave it alone.”

“She’ll never forgive me, Johnny. I don’t have anybody else, don’t you get that? I’m not even from here. I’m spending Christmas with her because I don’t have anywhere else to go. You have a whole town who loves you, and she’s your sister. She’ll forgive you in a heartbeat.”

“You have me, don’t you, thief?”

“Do I?”

It was his turn to push silence out through time and space, sending it up to the cellular satellites and mirroring it back down to you. Firing frustrated breathing noises across cables and wires and whatever other stupid fucking technology was happening to you right now. 

“Alright, lass.”

The phone beeped at you to inform you that the call had ended, but you kept it pinned on the shell of your ear, desperate for even a moment of that silence again. You regretted your honor the moment you’d held it up, and you were angry at yourself for keeping a promise you’d promised to keep. 

The phone clattered to the coffee table. The soup went cold. 

MONDAY MORNING

There was no sunrise text for you this time. Your phone didn’t have any notifications at all, in fact.  You made it all the way to the bus before you caved.

You: bus.jpg

You waited. Then, you waited some more. Nothing happened. You tried not to cry, and you failed. Luckily, the bus was empty, and the driver didn’t care about you enough to ask what was wrong.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

You: stuck in the library today. office is being cleaned.

You: library.jpg

Again, you were met with the cold emptiness of staring at your own responses at the bottom of your messages. You tried not to feel the sting of it, but you failed at that, too.

THURSDAY MORNING

You: giving a lecture today. kinda nervous about this one.

You: lectureroom2.jpg

You: hope youre okay

FRIDAY MORNING

Your phone buzzed three times, waking you up with a jolt. It was still dark outside. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to see the messages. 

Kyle: Hey this is Kyle, Soap’s mate. We’re heading back to the black site, so it’ll be a few weeks until you hear from him. 

Kyle: airplane_loading.jpg

You: thanks for telling me

Kyle: Soap asked me to tell you he promises??  I think thats what he said.

You: tell him i promise

You: and can you tell him that i made a mistake? he was right. about everything.

You: and im sorry.

Kyle: Will do!

You stared out of the window until the deep purples of night gave way to a cool pink morning glow, and you watched as the sun stretched its gentle arms up and over the river.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Chapter 07

#guile and guilt #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish smut #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mctavish #call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii

[rbbrbikerthorp]

“Mate, Can You Lend Me a Hand?”

My company had recently relocated to a new office development. Although much of the building work on the complex was complete, the two remaining buildings were still under construction. I’d often look out of my third floor office window and stare at the work crews. They would be decked out in their dirty yellow or orange hi-viz work gear, battered boots or wellies. I’d gawp down at them, their arms enveloped in tattoos, their shaved heads and most, at sometime or other, with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. I’d long had this internal conflict; on one hand I’d be glad that I was a married office worker living in ‘suburban bliss’. but on the other hand there was this burning desire to be a workie, getting my hands dirty, collaborating with my co-workers (however they needed support).

I liked to leave the house first thing in the morning, saying goodbye to my wife and giving an estimate of what time I’d be home. Once I’d parked my car it was a ten minute walk across the concourse to my office. I was usually there at such an early hour that I would rarely encounter anyone else. Generally I would also be too early to see anyone working at the new buildings. However, this morning was different.

“Oi mate, can you give us a hand?” Was he talking to me? There was no one else on the path, so I looked around to see one of the workmen on the ground calling at me from the other side of the safety fence. He was kitted out in a full workers hi-viz uniform, work boots, maybe wellies, it was hard to tell. He wore a yellow hard hat and black gloves that looked like they were made of rubber. I remember thinking just how amazing he looked in his protective gear.

I didn’t know what to do. He appeared to be in trouble, but I worked at a desk, what could I do? I looked around me but there wasn’t anyone else in sight. Instinctively I dropped my bag and looked for a way to get through the site safety fence to help this poor fella who was struggling on the ground. I managed to find a gap in the fence and forced my way through.

“Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?”

“Thanks mate, I thought I could do this on my own but as you can see I’m not having much luck. See this? I just need someone to control the flow, which you do using that value there.”

“Really? Look surely you’re better waiting for one of your workmates to help. I work in an office over there” (pointing upwards and to my right).

“Nah, you can do it, but I’ll need to get you something to wear so you don’t get as filthy as me. C’mon! I’m Dave by the way.”

“James, it’s good to meet you.

I followed this hi-viz stranger. We quickly arrived at one of those portable buildings they have on building sites. 

“Right in here.”

“In there? Really?” I questioned.

“Yes, come on. We need to be quick. Let’s get you kitted out, we’ll get the job done and you can go about your business...”

Dave looked desperate. I knew he was in some sort of trouble, so the inner good samaritan stepped up to the plate. I reluctantly climbed up the stairs and into building. As I walked through the door a strong smell hit me straight away. It not only made my head spin and but bizarrely my cock began to jump to attention. Something I’m pretty sure Dave took note of. The air in the room must’ve been a stale mix of cigarette smoke, B.O, foot odour and even possibly urine from the toilets. I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and get some fresh air in my lungs.

I saw Dave light up a cigarette, he offered one to me.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke. I didn’t think you were allowed to smoke inside buildings.” I asked

“The gaffer turns a blind eye. He’s happy to let things like that go so long as the job gets done. Sure you won’t have one?”

I shook my head from side to side.

“Maybe later then?” Dave took a long drag and exhaled a plume of smoke into the room. No wonder everything stank of smoke.

On a bench was a pile of work gear: Orange and yellow hi-viz overalls and boiler suits, tops that were similar to the polo shirt I’d wear on weekends, trousers and a couple of pairs of boots.

Dave grabbed some items, “here take these.”

“What you want me to wear that mucky gear?”

“You will if don’t want to ruin your expensive suit.”

“Well...”

“I’ll make it up to you, but just get a move on. Take your socks and underwear off too.”

“Are you serious?”

“Those socks are no good for boots.. I’ve got no underwear but you can go commando. You’ve got showers in your office building so you can always use one later. Now put these on.”

Dave handed me a pair of ’not that dirty, but not that clean’ socks. I put them to one side while I slipped out of my jacket, removed shirt off and dropped my trousers. 

“Here, give me those and I’ll put them in my locker,” with that he disappeared around a corner taking my shirt, jacket and trousers. I remember wondering why I’d not heard a locker door slam shut.

I’d just finished putting on my workie gear when he came back. He went over to a rack and selected a hard hat for me. 

“Dave, my bag. I left my bag by the fence. I need to get it. I need it it’s got“

He interrupted me, “you’ll need to put on one of these,” and he placed it on my head

"My b...” all of a sudden I stopped. i couldn’t form any words. I remember Dave looking at me, saying one word. “Perfect. Now let’s go follow me Jimmy.”

I was about to say something about my name but felt compelled to follow Dave. As I was about to walk out of the building, but I couldn’t help but take a quick glance in a mirror. I saw Dave turn around, he was definitely smirking. I sensed an arousal in my groin too.

“Yeah,” Dave continued, “you’ll be a good builder’s labourer. Follow me.”

The smell of the workie gear I’d been given was infiltrating your nose - some combination of cigs, B.O., piss and something else. Strangely, I also remember being continually aroused by the stink. I’m not sure whether it was just the awful smell or something else. But since I’d put the hard hat on my mind felt a bit hazy. I couldn’t quite work out what I was doing and why I was here.

“C’mon Jimmy, we need to get this done in the next 15 minutes, or it won’t be ready when the concrete arrives.” 

As I walked, I realised my cock was now rubbing against the trousers. Even outside, I kept inhaling the strange musk from the clothes - that mix of sweat, B.O., Piss and was there also the smell of cum? We quickly reached the spot where I’d first found Dave. Just for a moment I thought there was something I needed to look for. Dave noticed me looking around and quickly walked over to me. He lit up a cigarette, inhaled and blew the smoke in my face. As I was coughing and spluttering, I felt him rub my cock through my hi-viz trousers.

“Yeah that’ll do nicely my lad” he said, inhaling and once gain blowing the smoke in my direction. “Sure you don’t fancy a cig, I’ve got plenty?”

Anyway, even with my hazy mind I shook my head as if to say no. In no time at all, together Dave and I had finished what he couldn’t do alone. A good job too, because just then we heard the ‘beeps’ from reversing of the concrete truck. A guy I’d not seen before who was talking on a phone joined; he looked like he was in charge or something like that. I was having trouble thinking straight.

“Ah Dave, Is this the new one we talked about. How’s he getting on?” 

“Hey Paul, yeah this is Jimmy. He’s a bit slow,” replied Dave, “but once everything is processed, I think I’ve got a keeper. Jimmy this is Paul our Foreman.” 

I was pretty sure Dave was giving me the sort of smile you give someone you fancy. Paul interrupted my thoughts. 

“Good,” turning to me, he tapped me several times on the shoulder, “welcome to the team.” He moved in closer to Dave, and said something I couldn’t hear. I’m sure I heard Dave say something about a bag or case to which Paul pointed to a large skip covered in rubble. Paul turned back to me and smiled. “Right, Dave will sort out your processing Jimmy and you’ll get your assignment.”

Just then Dave nudged me, “Right, let’s get you changed, come on.”

With that we walked back to where the portable cabins we sited. This time instead of going in the one where my clothes were, we went into an adjoining one. 

“My clothes are in the other one.”

“Yeah, but the sinks and showers are in this one. I thought you might want to get cleaned up before you put your fancy suit back on.”

I didn’t question Dave, he knew what to do, so I followed him through the door. The room was already quite smokey. There was another guy in the cabin, who looked like he was getting undressed. 

“Hi Tom”

“Dave. Who’s this?

“James, but he’s going to be Jimmy, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about? I just want to get back into my clothes and get on with my day.” I was becoming annoyed.

“Nah, that’s not going to happen Jimmy.” Dave nodded towards Tom, “I think I might need some help.”

“No problem Dave.”

Tom walked over to me, with his nose ring, he looked quite intimidating. “You know Jimmy I was like you once. Working 70-80 hours a week, freaking out about spreadsheets, worrying about numbers. Then I went through the process and life became much simpler. Got a job on the site here and now have the best life ever. A wonderful boyfriend, and so will you too.”

I started struggling, “Nooooo, I’m married.”

Just then Dave returned carrying what looked like a pair of headphones, “hold him steady Tom.”

“He’s not going anywhere Dave”, Tom responded. 

“Right,” Dave said, “See these? These are specially adapted ear defenders that will complete your processing.” 

The fact that my head had been hazy all the time I’d been wearing the workie gear meant I didn’t have much fight in me anyway. But I wasn’t giving up that easily. I clenched my fists - I don’t know what for because I’d never punched anyone in my life. I tried pulling away from Tom. But, in that instant Dave pressed a red button, he stepped forward and dropped the ear defenders over my skull. At which point Tom let go of me. 

Dave and Tom watched as my struggles almost immediately diminished and I felt my jaw become slack, and my fists unclenched. I could hear something playing in the headphones. By now my arms felt limp, and my body was relaxed. 

Dave noticed the change, “that’s much better, isn’t it Jimmy?” Dave pushed me down onto a bench, "Much better to just relax and listen to the voice. Just listen to the voice and we’ll be back."

The voice started whispering to me, “It feels good to be a labourer, it feels good to work with your hands, you like to wear your hi-viz uniform, it feels good to be a builder, forget your old life, to let go of all that responsibility, it feels good to be a tradesman. Say goodbye to all the stress, no more reports, no more documents, the company will look after you, you’re one of the team, you love being one of the team. You’re gay, you have no interest in women, only men interest you now. You know why? Because you’re a good workie. They help one another out, only men know how to relieve other men, You love being one of the team, you love to follow orders, you love the smell of hard work, you love the smell of real men, you love your uniform, you will obey all commands. Over an over it repeated, but as time went on new sentences appeared. “...you like to wear your hi-viz uniform, forget your old life, to let go of all that responsibility, you’re a gay man, Dave is your partner, you love Dave, Dave makes you happy, Dave will teach you how to satisfy other men. Your old life is over, you’re no longer interested in women, you’re only interested in hard men. Your head will be shaved. company regulations require shaved heads on all workies. Over and over the words kept coming at me. 

I don’t know how long I was in that room, but day had turned to night because I was suddenly aware of the lights going on. I felt the headphones, which I learnt are ear defenders being removed. I remained seated.

There was a voice, “What are you?”

“I’m a good workie,” I replied looking up at my boyfriend Dave.

“Who will look after you Jimmy lad?”

“The company will”, I replied.

“Do you like women?”

“No”, I responded sternly.

“Who makes you happy?”

“You do, I’m gay.” I replied looking upwards longingly.

Dave smiled, he knew the processing was successful. “Right, the first thing you need to do now is send two text messages. One to your boss to say you’ve quit with immediate effect to take a better more rewarding job.”

“Yes, sure. Who’s the other one for?”

“The other one needs to be sent to Kate to say you’re leaving her and she can have the house and everything else. Tell her you’ve realised you’re gay, you’re moving on and there’s no point her contacting you.” 

Dave handed me my phone and I did as instructed. I looked up at him and said, “Done.”  

“Give the phone back to me.”

I passed it to him and watched him pick up a hammer and smash it into pieces.

"No going back. Now, let’s get your head shaved, you can’t be a good workie with that rats nest on your head.” With that he took my hand and led me over to a chair. There were some clippers already placed on a table. 

Dave made quick work of my hair. Very soon I had a zero crop.

“There, done!” Dave rubbed my head, and was seemingly pleased with the outcome. Right stand up, I’ve been wanting to do this since the first time I saw you.” And with that Dave leaned in and started snogging me. 

I opened my mouth to reciprocate and could taste his smokey breath. He reached down and felt my growing erection. I just moaned into the ongoing assault on my mouth.

Dave pulled away, “you like that Jimmy boi?”

I could only nod in response.

“Yeah, gonna get you smoking too. Every workie smokes like a trooper, and you’ll be no different.” He got out his cigarette packet and took two out giving me one and taking one for himself. He held a lighter to mine as I inhaled. I coughed a bit, but I actually enjoyed smoking my first cigarette.

“You enjoyed that?” Dave asked. I just nodded in affirmation. “We’ll pay a visit to the tattooists this weekend because I wanna get your full-sleeve tattoos started. If you like you can also get some metal, maybe a septum ring like Tom has.”

We came together again in a passionate embrace.

Again Dave pulled away. “Right let’s get you home. I wanna take this up to the bedroom.”

That night Dave spent many, many hours finalising my processing in every way imaginable. I recall falling asleep in his arms dreaming about workies, tattoos, being fucked, getting pierced, boots, real men with shaved heads.

In just a few hours I’d gone from married office worker to doing a proper job as a gay workie with a wonderful boyfriend and I couldn’t be happier.

If you see two chain-smoking workies with tatts on their arms, rings in their ears and nose, full hi-viz clobber it might be Dave and me. Come over and say “hi”. You never know the gaffer might have an opening for you.

#workie #hi-vis #hi-viz #boots #wellies #hard hat

[m-jelly]

Yaaay punkins!

Dad Levi x Fem!Reader

Modern AU, fluff, romance, small town fic, sheriff Levi, cute, Levi being a good dad, woodland walk, pumpkin picking, two children, married life.

You go for a nice woodland walk as a family and talk about lots of mythical creatures with your children. At the end of your walk you go to a pumpkin patch to pick your pumpkins and get the kids some hot chocolate.

For @postwarlevi event!

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

"Daddy."

Levi was kneeling before his five-year-old daughter as he grabbed a coat for her. "Yes, my little flower?"

She sighed. "Witches don't wear coats."

He smiled at her. "Well, your mummy is a witch and she wears them."

She blushed a little. "Mummy's pretty."

"She is and so are you." He hummed a laugh and grabbed a wholly cape coat with a witch hood. "How about this?"

"Yay!"

He chuckled and put it on her. "There we go. My perfect little witch." He winked at her. "Now, do you want your pretty boots or wellies?"

She threw her arms out. "Wellies!"

"You got it."

You walked over with Evan, your two-year-old, in your arms. "Hello, both. How are you?"

Levi smiled up at you. "Hello, beautiful. I was just dressing up your little witch."

You plopped Evan on his little feet and grinned. "Like me! We're matching, my little flower."

Lilly ran over to you and jumped up and down. "A witch like mummy!"

You picked her up and hugged her tightly. "That's right. You excited about going pumpkin picking after our walk?"

She threw her hands up. "Yaaay punkins!"

You kissed the side of her head. "Let's get your little bag."

"It has my wand in."

You went over to the bags hanging up and found Lilly's which was a pink big milk carton. You put her down and handed her the bag. "Here you go."

Levi fixed Evan's coat on for him. "All good little lad?"

Evan nodded. "Yes, daddy."

He stood up and sighed. "All right, let's get going on our walk. What are we hunting this time?"

Evan reached up and took Levi's hand. "Fairies!"

"Perfect."

Lilly hurried over. "Gonks too!"

You took her hand. "You making a deal with them?"

She gazed up at you. "I want to give them a present!"

You smiled softly. "Well, it's a good job I made you a little offering bag. I've put it in my bag."

Levi opened the front door. "Shoes on and let's head out."

Everyone finished getting ready before gathering outside the house. A woodland walk was the first on your list of things to do because your children loved being outside and exploring. Lilly was really into witch things, so any chance she could get out into the woods she took it. Evan just loved seeing animals and flowers.

You watched Lilly hurry ahead on the woodland path. "Don't run too far sweetheart."

Lilly slowed down. "Sorry mummy!"

Levi reached over and rubbed your back. "She'll be okay."

You hummed. "She might slip."

Levi flinched. "You're right." He let Evan go and ran over to Lilly as she got too close to the river. "Lilly!"

Evan stared at Levi before squealing with laughter. "Daddy's funny."

You took his hand and giggled. "He is, isn't he?"

Levi slowed down next to Lilly. "Careful of the water, okay? See this bit here? The moss? It's slippery here so you have to be careful."

She smiled at Levi. "Sorry daddy, I'll be careful."

"It's okay. Good girl. Hold my hand, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy!" She held his hand tightly and walked along with him. She tapped her wellies in the water and giggled. "Daddy?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think the Gonks will like me?"

He smiled at his daughter. "Of course. You are sweet and adorable. They will think you are the best."

A cute blush spread over her cheeks. "Wooow."

He squatted behind his daughter and hugged her close. "Can you see the fish?"

Lilly watched the water and gasped in delight when she saw the tiny fish moving around. "Cute!"

"They're coming to say hello. They're kissing your lovely wellies."

She giggled. "They're the best!"

Evan stomped his little feet as he walked along. He came to a stop and turned to you. "Mummy?"

You followed him. "Yes, little man?"

Evan pointed at a ring of mushrooms around a tree. "Fairies."

You gently moved him back from the ring. "Be careful. Remember what I told you about fairies."

He nodded. "Bad. They are naughty."

You played with his raven hair and admired him, he was just like Levi in looks. "That's right. We can look but not go near."

He waved. "Hi, fairies. Be good!"

You hummed a laugh. "You told them! Come on, let's go see your sister."

Evan gasped and started running to his older sister. "Lillyyyyy!"

You couldn't help but giggle when he ran over in his big puffy coat over to Lilly. "Cute."

Levi caught his son and stopped him from falling over. "Hold hands with your sister, okay?"

Lilly grabbed Evan's hand. "I'll look after you!"

Levi got up and walked over to you. "And I'll look after you."

You squeaked in delight as Levi pulled you close and nibbled your neck. "Levi."

He smirked when the kids giggled. He pulled back a bit and kissed you. "Come on, we have to give an offering to the gonks." He held you close. "Lead the way kids, but be careful, okay? No running."

You leaned against Levi as you walked with him. Both of you watched your children closely as they walked along the path. Your kids would walk a bit before waiting if they hurried too far ahead. It wasn't too cold yet, but Levi had wrapped them both up a lot to protect them from any cold.

Lilly came to a stop. "Mummy? Gonks!"

You opened your purse and pulled out a bag with little offerings. "Got the offerings." You crouched next to her and saw the stone slab with little offerings on it, candles, letters and a cute stone home. "All right, come here my little flower."

Lilly cuddled up to you and took out a few things in the bag. "Enjoy the food and drink we give you, lovely Gonks! Look after us."

You put some things down. "Look after us." You stood up and smiled. "I think we should go pick our pumpkins out now. Right Levi?"

Levi nodded. "Ready." He heard Evan make a noise. "What's wrong little man?"

Evan gazed at Levi and looked tired, before pulling a sad face, then a silent crying face and finally he started crying a little. "Tired."

Levi picked up Evan. "Oh dear. I've got you. You rest your little legs, okay?" He rubbed Evan's back. "You rest, let me carry you."

Lilly held your hand. "I'll hold onto you, mummy."

You smiled at how sweet your daughter was. "Thank you."

Levi led the way on the path until he reached the farm with all the pumpkins in. Levi smiled and waved at people as they greeted him. Being the sheriff of the town meant he was rather popular, especially with the ladies and elderly. He was strong, kind, dedicated and now he was a dad he had that extra softness to him.

Lilly bounced up and down. "Yaaay! Punkins!"

You released her hand and let her run a bit. "Stay close!" This town was incredibly safe for children and people, but your babies were precious to you and you worried. "Bless her."

Lilly picked up a funky-looking pumpkin and held it above her head. "Mummy! Look at this one!"

Levi handed you Evan. "I'll go stop her before she drops it on her head."

You adjusted your son. "You tired?"

Evan nodded and snuggled against you. "Tired."

"Bless you. We'll get you some yummy hot chocolate and a doughnut."

He nodded. "Thank you, mummy."

You joined Levi and Lilly to see he was holding a few pumpkins. "Levi? We don't need that many."

Levi whined. "But Lilly."

You kissed Levi's cheek. "I know, I know, you want to spoil our kids."

"I do." He sighed. "Lilly? My little flower witch? No more pumpkins, okay? Otherwise we'll have a lot of smelly pumpkins when the season is over."

Lilly grinned. "Okay, daddy."

Levi relaxed a moment and felt happy his kids were accepting of nos and reasoning. "Let's pay for these and then we'll get you some hot chocolate and a doughnut."

"Yummy!"

You kissed Levi's shoulder. "Good boy."

Levi perked up and hurried over to the counter to pay. He chatted with the farmer and thanked them for a great event. He put everything in a box to carry and smiled fondly at Lilly as she chatted with the farmer about her cute witch ways.

You waved to the farmer. "Thank you again. All right little ones, time for that hot chocolate and doughnut."

Levi led them to a little cosy part of the farm and sat Lilly on his lap. He ordered drinks for everyone and a nice freshly made doughnut coated in granulated sugar. "Mm, this is the best."

You tore up Evan's doughnut and fed it to him. "It's perfect."

Evan hummed in happiness. "Yummy."

Lilly grinned in delight. "Thank you, mummy and daddy."

Levi kissed her cheek. "You're welcome."

#harvestmoonaotcollab #dad!levi #dad levi #dadvi #levi #levi ackerman #aot levi #captain levi #captain levi x reader #levi x reader #fanfiction #aot fanfiction #jelly fanfics #captain levi fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader fluff #levi x yn #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman snk #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n

[ughgoaway]

have you ever thought about a time when Girlie is with Annie and Matty bathing the dog and it's a warm family atmosphere? and maybe then go to the park and play as a family.

Thank you so much for the cute idea 🪐 anon!! my random thoughts below the cut as always lol <3

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

anyway, yes, this is so fun to think about. I love anything with mayhem, and the image of you all trying to tackle him into the bath to give him a proper wash is so funny.

I can see Matty, mayhem, and Annie coming home from a walk, and to say they are muddy is an understatement. He calls you as they're approaching the house and tells you to prepare the bath; warning you that is officially time to bathe mayhem.

You try to avoid washing him at home as much as possible, sending him off to the groomers whenever you can. Not because you don't love him, but because he is fucking massive and it's somehow a three-man job. 

Getting Annie involved was the last solution after too many disastrous attempts, but you needed an extra pair of hands. And she was the only one in the house. But Mayhem loves her so much, so she's actually a pretty good distraction. 

You line the walk to the bathroom with towels and creek open the front door slowly, and your jaw drops at the sight in front of you. Mayhem is caked in mud, staring up at you with his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging wildy, splashing more mud around.

Matty and Annie were both wearing welly boots, and they were also covered in mud. Annie even had some in her hair, but those two could be dealt with later. Mayhem was your current mission.

“Oh my god. Matthew, how did it get this bad?” You ask in shock, flicking your wide eyes over the three of them.

“It's not my fault. I swear. Mayhem got out of his harness and ran into a muddy puddle. Me and Annie ran after him, but the puddle turned out to be a bit deeper than we thought…” Matty says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hands, but quickly snatching them away with a grossed-out look on his face when he feels the mud in his hair.

You sigh heavily at Matty and start gently guiding mayhem in the house as Annie holds his tail to stop him from wagging it and spraying mud everywhere.

Eventually, you get Mayhem safely in the bathroom after walking very slowly the whole time. You all know from past experience that if you walk too quickly, mayhem takes it as a queue to sprint at full force through the house and rub his face on the rug in the front room. 

You really tried to get the mud out last time, but it was a pointless task. Matty still claims you somehow planned it because you hated that rug. “How else did he get so muddy when it hadn't rained in weeks?” he accuses you time after time.

You deny it wholeheartedly, but you can't deny the feeling of joy you felt when you saw mayhem rubbing his whole body over it, and let's just say you definitely didn't do anything to stop it.

But you actually like the new rug you bought, so when you finally got mayhem in the bathroom this time, the three of you couldn't help but cheer as soon as the door clicked shut.

However, you forgot that any sort of excitement would hype mayhem up to no end, so as soon as he heard the cheers, he jumped on his hind legs and pounced onto Matty.

“Woah mayhem- WAIT NO-” Matty shouts.

Now, usually, Matty caught him quite well, keeping mayhem upright and balancing him perfectly on his chest. But this time, he wasn't prepared, and before you knew it, all you saw was a massive splash of water coming out of the bath as mayhem pushed both him and Matty in it.

You and Annie stood there in shock for a few seconds, but as soon as Matty sat up in the bath, covered in mud and bubbled. You all couldn't help but burst out laughing. Matty pouted, of course, but he soon realised that this kind of was the ideal way to wash mayhem. He could keep him calm as you and Annie scrubbed him.

“Right, Annie, will you grab the peanut butter for me, sweetheart? Your dad is on mayhem feeding duty today” you say, lathering up the soap between your hands as Matty uses a bowel to wet mayhem.

“Here you go, Daddy. Don't eat the peanut butter, though, mayhem licks from this one” Annie warns, holding the jar just out of Matty’s reach until he nods at her words. After she knows he heard her, she quite happily hands it over, grabbing the bowl from Matty’s hands and rinsing mayhem once more.

The four of you are all huddled either in or around the bath, scrubbing mayhem and watching the mud pour off him. Matty sits in front of him, holding the peanut butter jar in front of his face so he can happily lick inside the jar whilst you clean his paws.

“Daddy you look silly in the bath with Mayhem.” Annie giggles as she scrubs Mayhem’s head, giving him a mohawk with the bubbles that form. 

“I know, i know. Will you go grab my camera for me, sweet girl? I wanna get a photo of us all” matty asks, smiling down at mayhem with too much love in his eyes, considering mayhem had bowled him over not even 10 minutes earlier.

Annie scampers off and grabs the camera, leaving you and Matty alone in the bathroom. 

“You do look quite stupid in the bath, you know?” You tease, grinning down at Matty and watching him roll his eyes and hold in a laugh.

“Quite dilfy too, though” you add on thoughtfully, looking at how Matty’s soaking white shirt was starting to become completely transparent, and you couldn't help but gawk at the way his tattoos became more visible beneath the wet fabric. Matty pulls his shirt off cheekily, dropping it on the floor next to him before teasing you back.

“Mmm, I always look dilfy. S’how I got you, anyway” Matty gives you a smug smile, and you can't help but kiss it off his face, humming happily as you feel his lips working against yours. 

You both get a bit lost in the kiss, and soon it becomes a little desperate and breathless, all tongues and teeth as poor mayhem has to stand there are witness it all. But it soon enough gets interrupted by Annie walking in, and very eloquently proclaiming “ewwww!!”

You and Matty both laugh against each other's lips, and you feel a bit dizzy when you pull away, having to blink a few times before you bring yourself back to earth. 

You quickly snap a few shots with Matty's Polaroid camera; a selfie of you all, and a picture of annie grinning next to mayhem with his bubble mohawk. But, you get a particularly cute one of Matty and mayhem and you can't help but sneak that one away for yourself.

(ik this is not actually mayhem in this picture… but let's all use our imaginations <3)

You eventually get him all washed up and wrangle him out of the bath onto a towel. however, as soon as things are slightly too quiet and still, you can see the mischief brewing in mayhems eyes.

“Mayhem… no. don't even think about it” but he is a dog after all, so he ignores you completely. And soon enough, he's shaking every single drop of water off his body and onto the three of you.

The only thing that's heard in the bathroom is all of your screams, Annie runs behind the bathroom cabinet in an attempt to hide from the spray, but alas, there is no escape.

After far too many seconds for your liking, he stops shaking. And is looking at Matty with his mouth open in a smile and with a wagging tail.

“You're so lucky you're so cute, mate,” Matty sighs.

“Bloody horse dog,” you mumble under your breath, looking in the mirror at your now dripping wet hair.

Annie simply giggles, grinning as she bends down to give mayhem a hug and squealing when he starts to lick her face. you forgive mayhem pretty quickly after that, blowdrying him, yourself, matty, and annie in a row and snapping another picture of you all.

Now, as for going to the park after, I think you try to avoid it for a few days, trying to keep him clean as long as possible. But before the week is over, all four of you are running around in the mud together like crazy people, and you don't even think about the carnage this is all gonna cause.

#made it within the day with 30 mins to spare #last minute is my fav thing can you tell #anyway I LOVE THIS IDEA #sorry if my writing is bad i think i got over excited ahahaha #🪐 anon #anon! #teacher au!

[bonniebird]

Emmett Cullen x Short Fem!Reader

Requested by Anon

Halloween event

Support me on Ko-fi

Make a request

You heard it. The tapping and calling. You’d spent a long time picking out a camera that could film in the dark and although, for just a moment, the thought of heading out into the woods around your house on Halloween caused you to pause. You wanted to find out what the creature was.

Pausing on the back porch to turn the camera on and secure your wellies, you trekked off into the woods towards the sound in your pyjamas and jumper. It didn't take too long to find the creature. Maybe fifteen minutes and a small stumbled through a thicker part of the undergrowth. You silently cheered to yourself as you got it on camera. After a little while the hairs on the back of your neck started to prickle and the creature turned towards the woods but looked behind you. Turning around and you saw nothing in the darkness and wondered if perhaps a mountain lion was skulking around. Maybe even a murderer! That thought spurred you on to abandon your nocturnal endeavours and try again another time. You rushed home and slammed the door behind you and locked it so that your imagined pursuer that was hot on your heels was locked outside in the cold night.

Kicking one wellie off and then hopping around as you desperately yanked on the other which seemed to have fixed itself to your foot you shed your outdoor wear. You decided to head up to bed and left your camera in the small cubby downstairs that you turned into an office. It was just big enough for you to comfortably sit at a desk and have your computer and other equipment in but nothing else had fit in there. 

You got up early the next morning putting toast in the toaster and switched on the kettle. You loaded up the computer and programs you needed and set the program to process what you’d filmed. You took a break after sniffing the air and realising that your past had bruins and the water in the kettle had gone cold. Once you’d made your breakfast you went back and reviewed the footage. 

You’d finally gotten the creature that you wanted on camera. It had let you get pretty close too. As you got to the part where the animal had spooked and the camera turned you frowned. There was something in the distance hunched over and then it stood rather tall. Perhaps it was a bear. If it was, you were lucky to get home. You spend hours fiddling and tweaking the video until you could watch it clearly. Then you played it all in its entirety. As you saw what you’d filmed your cup slipped from your hand, hot liquid spraying everywhere as it shattered. It took you a moment to realise what had happened and you hurried to clean it up. As you did it nicked you and you hissed as a stinging feeling flashed across your hand making your ears ring a little as blood pooled on your hand. Hurrying to run your hand under the tap you didn’t eat that someone had let themself into your house. 

“Hey! You know you left your back door open?” Your friend said as she let herself in.

“I did? I thought I locked that. What’re you doing here?” You asked.

“Saving you apparently.” She said as she went across your kitchen and fetched down the first aid box. “Are you going to need stitches because you said you’d go with me to get decorations for my Halloween party.”

“Oh. I-I forgot about that.” You said and glanced at your office as she took your hand and looked at it.

“Well, it looks like it should be ok. But if it’s still bleeding later you’re letting me take you to the hospital even if that weird doctor that makes jokes about blood is working.” She said. You didn’t say anything back so she shrugged and bandaged up your hand. She made you hold it above your head as she went to your room and found something other than pyjamas to wear and finished cleaning up the mess in your office. You changed and she drove you over to the store. You weren't actually sure she needed help as you did little more than carry the basket she picked up and nod every now and then when she showed you something which was either put back or tossed in the basket. 

As you rounded the corner you stopped dead. “Oh! Hello there.” Emmett said with a friendly enough smile. You tried to smile back. You tried to avoid looking started but you found that words got caught in your throat and each step he took towards you was one that your body automatically took back. You could hear your friend talking to Alice in the other aisle. You weren’t all exactly friendly but it was a small town. Emmett’s smile faltered and he looked around. 

“We did get the wrong camera.” You could have sworn he said quietly.

"You're a vampire! I knew it!" You whispered under your breath and backed away, trying to get round the aisle to your friend to get her to leave. Emmet once again stepped close and the flash of what you saw on your computer screen forced you so far back that you crashed into a display.

“(Y/N)?” Your friend said as she rushed over. “Are you ok? Is it your hand? I knew I should have taken you to the hospital to have that looked at.”

“Oh don’t worry if you have to rush off. I can get these for you and we can drop them at your house.” Alice said. She was watching you carefully. 

“No!” You said in a strangled cry that had several people in the shop looking at you curiously. “We came all the way just for you. We should get what you need and then worry about me.” You insisted and rushed her to the till.

“We’re going to have to keep an eye on that one.” Emmett muttered.

“What was on the camera?” Alice asked. Emmet stared at her. She had a look on her face that said she knew but would give anything to be wrong.

“Me. Feeding.” He answered quietly as you and your friend left.

“We’ll probably be leaving town then?” She said and motioned for him to wait before they went out to her car.

Emmett cullen:

@stellasblog @deanwinchestersgirl87 @thekayarlene @linkpk88 @babypink224221 @lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @lovesanimals0000 @lovesanimals0000 @theletterhart @bluebear142077 @boardstomymood @alexxavicry @daughterofthenight117 @multi-fandom5 @justice-for-the-kaldorei @rafecameronswhore @kaylantus @supernatural-wolfie @devilslilbabysblog @why-am-I-here-01 @maxineswritingcenter @babygrinchsblog @alwaysadreamingoptimist @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @littlefreakingfangirl @jayyeahthatsme @gillybear17 @gatefleet @lchufflepuffcorn @kaitieskidmore1 @slxthxrxn-sxmp @jamie-c-bower-simp @hc-geralt-23 @readingbookelf @gatefleet

#emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen #bonniebird #halloween2022 #twilight

[fangirleaconmigo]

1 & 4 for Welly Boots?

Hi Faye! Ok so for Welly Boots, just a fair warning I’m gonna be a bit personal and talk about death because that’s what the song is about.

1. What was your first impression of this song (and has it changed)?

I think the first lyric I noticed was “do y’know what they cost” and it gave me this feeling of being *there* in a home where everyone is bustling around trying to get ready. “Wear a raincoat or it’ll soak you to the bone” it makes you think of a parent just being parent-y and fussing and it’s one of those TAD lyrics where it is so specific yet universal so you’re like…ok that is what this song is about. I’m in the house with this family.

And then the song keeps going and you’re like ahhhhhhh fuck. And it gut punches you. It’s another one of their songs I skip if I’m listening in public because I’ll cry.

It makes me think yes of parental love and how it’ll be for my son the day I’m gone. And it also makes me think of my big brother who I lost far far far too young.

And then at the end it leaves you with a little hope. That even people who are gone, left a part of themselves in you.

4. Favorite lyric

And when you scream "I'm not alright"

And throw my picture at the wall

"You were supposed to be my light

And keep me safe against them all

How could you leave me here?" you'll scream

That bit. It is so simple but yet it so powerfully captures a kernel of how I felt when I lost my brother. Its how you feel in the deepest depths and how it’s not always socially acceptable to admit you feel anger at them and no matter how grown up you get you just want to scream that it isn’t fucking FAIR. I tear up every time I listen.

#the amazing devil #joey batey #madeleine hyland

[twinklepixels]

San Myshuno - Clupper House Apartments - 8AM

Introduction Part 1

“Claire!” Emily called out from the kitchen, “Gotta get up sweetie! Your mom will be here in a bit. Breakfast is almost ready!”

“Mamma! I get to see mamma today!” Claire shouted as she jumped out of bed with the biggest smile on her face. She headed straight for Hamlets cage and woke him up too to share her excitement with him.

“Hamlet! Wake up you sleepyhead!” Claire said as she dug around in the fluff to find hamlet. “Guess what today is! I get to see my Mamma today! I wish you could come too! Wouldn’t that be so cool? You, me and Mamma!”

“...” Hamlet stared with one eye open and let out a big yawn. “Okay sleepyhead, back to bed you go.” Claire gave Hamlet a kiss on his tiny nose and set him back down in his bed.

“Claire? You up?” Aaron asked as he knocked on her door. “Yup! Getting dressed! Be there in a minute... or like five minutes! Gotta find the perfect outfit!”

Aaron chuckles, “Alright, remember to wear your wellies, it’s suppose to rain today hun.”

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #ts4 #ts4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #Elmore-Rae #ELR1 #Gen1

[carouseldreamdiary]

22.10.23

i was walking in an orchard and all the apple trees were being felled, all the apples were bright red and huge. but the chopping of the trees down was cutting through them. as i hurried through i came to a clearing, on the right were more trees, this time with gilled mushrooms growing off the branches. i was about to start to walk down and maybe pick some but there was a husband and wife further down the orchard and i didnt want them to see me so i hovered near the entrance to their part.

suddenly i heard a voice happily yelling my name and i turned around to see a middle aged bearded man smiling running over to me. his face looked a lot like gerry adams now i think about it because i remember thinking he had a lot of teeth lol. he was wearing gloves and a cap and a green jacket and wellies, he looked like he was in hunting gear.

i didn't know who he was originally but i suddenly had a memory within the dream pop into my head explaining who he was; which was he was my old teacher who helped me a lot with my mental health in school. he was always there for me and helped bandage my body when i was hurt and i saw myself as a teenager in a wheelchair. i was extremely thin with long black greasy hair, i was covered in scars and bruises and cuts. and i was too small to fit in the wheelchair, but this teacher was helping me.

back to present day in the dream i happily wandered over to him. he said he had been looking for me and was worried about me. apparently not too much time had passed since that memory because when i went to hug him i only reached about his waist height. i explained about the orchards and mushrooms and we chatted about mundane things for a while, he seemed very proud of me and was smiling and patting me on the head.

i dont remember much of what happened next, it involved stealing a bus i think and running around in a mass of people in the dark down a road im not sure. but eventually i found myself in this narrow house. as i walked the corridors i came face to face with that old teacher again. except now we were the same height. he said to me i had gotten so much taller and now i was ready for this and then he put his arms around me and began making a move on me. i dont remember what happened next but i think i struggled with him and woke up

[bryonyashaw]

𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 ‘𝙠𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙧𝙤’ 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙚 🛶

My dad bought some kayaks this summer so the kids and I have spent time at Covenham Sailing Club - him and my Uncle have also got a 'lazer 4000 dinghy' so been great entertainment watching them capsize.

There was also an open weekend so Trix got up and did windsurfing plus she's also been up there for Scouts and has her Kayaking 1 and 2 badges.

Fun fact - when my siblings and I were younger we used to go to Covenham as my parents had a speedboat. I vaguely recall a banana boat one day. I also broke my toe there on a sew-saw swing as a child wearing the attire of tights, swimming costume and wellies - which involved a trip to hospital while wearing said attire then the next couple of weeks wearing one slipper with a pompom on with my school uniform.

I had loads of DMs this summer as I posted via stories of us going - so to answer some questions - the Reservoir is open to members (and fee paying non-members with RYA level 1 & 2) throughout the year.

The centre has parking, with changing rooms and hot showers. There is also a bar, which is usually open around sailing sessions. Boat launching is from the slipway and there are currently three jetties for mooring.

The access gates to the Reservoir/Sailing Centre and Club House are usually open during Sailing Club sessions, however for security reasons the gates to the centre are locked outside of club sessions.

Keys are available to members upon joining.

Covenham Reservoir is a 200 acre reservoir and treatment works constructed between 1963-1978. The reservoir was built next to the Louth Navigation canal and acts as a pumped storage reservoir from the canal. The Reservoir is approximately 1 km by 1 km in size and the depth is approximately 20m.

You can also walk around the Reservoir (getting them steps in) which takes about half an hour. Always good to take a picnic up, the dog and walk the kids to tire them out while other kids are doing things too (but with kids and pets involved it takes an hour ngl)

There's also a variety of bird life if you like bird watching - the amount of ducklings about were adorable!

#canoe #kayak #kayaking #louth blogger #Lincolnshire #reservoir #kayak life #windsurfing #windsurf #blog uk #yourblendedfamily #parenting #blogging #runwildmychild #wild and free kids #family #Instagram

[abrahamsenpovlsen40]

replica dior scarf

Best Replica Dior Scarves F Sale From high heels to boots to sneakers - uncover designer sneakers from Louboutin to Jimmy Choo. It’s the images of the actual replica product. wikipedia scarf Anyway, so I'm still not sure if it's actual or not. But as the Ebay assistant informed me if you're undecided it's real then do not record it. They have very strict guidelines now about selling replica's on Ebay which is an effective thing but how do you know? There are registered appraisers you can use and they'll appraise one thing for you for $10.00. This is a blog you'll find details about and shop for Dakini's new line of "Scarfwear"; ladies clothes produced from classic scarves. Have a custom dress or prime made just for you - just contact Katherine to arrange a time. Off obligation, the Queen likes to dress for country life in a shirt and A-line skirt with a green waxed or quilted coat or a rain mac, her wellies and her acquainted silk scarf knotted underneath her chin. Gorgeous Nineteen Eighties Christian Dior geometric jewel printed scarf! The next day I went to post one other Dior scarf that I had and I received a message from Ebay saying that I had reached my restrict. I was stunned because this was the first time I had heard of any limits to the quantity or kind of listings I could make. I contacted the web assistant and after some forwards and backwards she simply stated to " Just take it simple on the designer labels for some time." So, I assume that somebody had reported that the scarf could additionally be a fake. I took a second have a glance at the headscarf myself and realized a few issues that made me suspect that I had been sold a replica Dior. Wholeale low-cost replica Christian Dior Silk Scarf # costs $29.00 USD online, outlet ! Tags and labels additionally add value to a vintage scarf so if you purchase an costly designer scarf by no means take off the tag. It will depreciate in value should you do. This Dior scarf had a tag but it was lacking the designer tag; the one that says the designer's name and/or brand. The Queen carrying a petal lined hat on a go to to the Isle of Man in 1972 Ms Kelly is now the Queen’s in house go-to designer for day and evening put on, and sometimes makes use of Swarovski crystals to add glamour to grand royal occasions. Customers who are interested in this designer may additionally discover the work of Cartier, Louis Vuitton and Emilio Pucci interesting. On 1stDibs, find designer, vintage and high fashion Christian Dior scarves from high boutiques around the world. On 1stDibs, the worth for these items begins at $119 and tops out at $9,800 whereas the typical work can promote for $350. REBELLE presents a broad range of building accessories from this designer. In addition to the shawls and scarves, Christian Dior glasses can also be obtainable. Go for a simple outfit and add multiple accessories to it. Wholesale new arrivals low-cost fake Dior Scarf take pleasure in free delivery and 66%-OFF with greatest quality! The sizzling on sale style Christian Dior Silk Scarf #856391. phoenet.tw dior scarf replica Saturated tones of purple, blue and black embellish this oversized square scarf, giant enough to wear around the shoulders, within the hair or in your purse. Christian Dior striped organza scarf in gentle nude, black, child pink and brown silk (100%) with a floral natural print around the boarders. Has been worn and is in glorious conditio... Christian Dior's signature name on the decrease right nook. Nineteen Seventies Christian Dior cotton sq. scarf. Mixed purple, blue and white chintz prints. Peony sample on the cashmere materials appears trendy and distinctive, the vivid sample perfectly increases its worth, and then again, it embodies the exquisite workmanship and craft. Rectangle size 100×200 cm is right for spring and fall wearing. This scarf is fitted for elegant ladies who like to pursue style. Elegant silk scarf by Christian Dior Paris. A geometric and floral print sample in a mixture of navy blue, purple, pink, grey, white, and salmon-orange colors with a bright oran... Elegant silk scarf by Christian Dior in blue and lavender colors that includes floral design print. This scarf has a great hand rolled hem that is in excellent shape. Y2K nostalgia has dominated womenswear for several seasons, and now it’s influencing menswear. Low-rise, baggy denims worn with uncovered boxers appeared at Dior Men, Louis Vuitton, and Alled-Martinez—though Y/Project’s dip-front trousers might be probably the most revealing. Catsuits have been the story one yr ago, and second-skin menswear continues to pattern. At Loewe, Jonathan Anderson scanned models’ bodies for a one-to-one replica of their physique printed on white jersey. Vetements’s version is roofed in dollar bills.

#dior silk scarf replica #dior scarf replica #replica christian dior silk scarf

[gomezcullen8]

replica dior scarf 13

Dior Scarves & Wraps For Ladies Tags and labels additionally add value to a vintage scarf so if you purchase an expensive designer scarf by no means take off the tag. It will depreciate in value when you do. This Dior scarf had a tag but it was missing the designer tag; the one that says the designer's name and/or emblem. The Queen carrying a petal lined hat on a visit to the Isle of Man in 1972 Ms Kelly is now the Queen’s in home go-to designer for day and night wear, and infrequently makes use of Swarovski crystals to add glamour to grand royal occasions. wikipedia scarf The subsequent day I went to publish one other Dior scarf that I had and I obtained a message from Ebay saying that I had reached my limit. I was taken aback as a outcome of this was the primary time I had heard of any limits to the quantity or type of listings I could make. I contacted the online assistant and after some backwards and forwards she just mentioned to " Just take it easy on the designer labels for a while." So, I assume that somebody had reported that the scarf could additionally be a fake. I took a second have a look at the headscarf myself and realized a number of issues that made me suspect that I had been bought a reproduction Dior. Wholeale cheap replica Christian Dior Silk Scarf # costs $29.00 USD online, outlet ! Wholesale new arrivals low-cost fake Dior Scarf take pleasure in free shipping and 66%-OFF with best quality! The hot on sale type Christian Dior Silk Scarf #856391. Saturated tones of purple, blue and black embellish this oversized sq. scarf, large sufficient to put on around the shoulders, within the hair or on your purse. Christian Dior striped organza scarf in light nude, black, baby pink and brown silk (100%) with a floral natural print around the boarders. Has been worn and is in wonderful conditio... We absolutely can be your first selection of suppliers for TOP high quality products! You will love our products if you obtain them! The low-cost replica model shoes, garments, handbags wholesale store from China. Beautiful dior dark green black scarf scarf wrap lengthy i had it as a gift , once worn , good condition. This is used however it's a great condition. Sale because of filter. Any questions please ask. The newest trend news, magnificence protection, superstar type, fashion week updates, culture evaluations, and movies on Vogue.com. The world is topsy-turvy—why shouldn’t style be absurd too? Jonathan Anderson embraced silliness and strangeness at both JW Anderson and Loewe, but a childlike sense of naivete was also palpable at Comme des Garçons Homme Plus and Moschino. Vetements’s tongue-in-cheek irony, which outlined the brand’s early days, feels right once more too. No fewer than five designers name-checked Giorgio Armani in review appointments. This is a weblog you'll find information about and shop for Dakini's new line of "Scarfwear"; ladies clothes produced from classic scarves. Have a customized gown or high made just for you - just contact Katherine to rearrange a time. Off duty, the Queen likes to decorate for nation life in a shirt and A-line skirt with a green waxed or quilted coat or a rain mac, her wellies and her acquainted silk scarf knotted underneath her chin. Gorgeous Nineteen Eighties Christian Dior geometric jewel printed scarf! Christian Dior's signature name on the decrease proper corner. Nineteen Seventies Christian Dior cotton square scarf. Mixed purple, blue and white chintz prints. Christian Dior and Dior are the same. The former refers to the founding designer of his namesake fashion house, Dior. For days whenever you want your accent to current your style, this Christian Dior stole is perfect. It comes with a show of the model's coveted monogram. Dior’s assortment definitively declared that opulence, luxurious and femininity were in. His skirts might have 40-meter-circumference hems, and outfits may weigh up to 60 kilos. From excessive heels to boots to sneakers - uncover designer footwear from Louboutin to Jimmy Choo. It’s the pictures of the actual replica product. Anyway, so I'm still unsure if it's real or not. But because the Ebay assistant advised me when you're unsure it is actual then don't list it. They have very strict guidelines now about promoting replica's on Ebay which is a good thing but how do you know? There are registered appraisers you have to use and they'll appraise something for you for $10.00. This scarf has an excellent hand rolled hem that is in glorious form. Y2K nostalgia has dominated womenswear for several seasons, and now it’s influencing menswear. Low-rise, baggy jeans worn with uncovered boxers appeared at Dior Men, Louis Vuitton, and Alled-Martinez—though Y/Project’s dip-front trousers may be the most revealing. https://skel.io/replica-scarfs-shawls/replica-christian-dior-silk-scarf.html Catsuits have been the story one year ago, and second-skin menswear continues to trend. At Loewe, Jonathan Anderson scanned models’ our bodies for a one-to-one replica of their physique printed on white jersey. Vetements’s model is roofed in greenback payments. Signatures or logos also add value and if you don't have a tag then you've the logo and that helps a lot. However, it is pretty straightforward to print a logo or signature on one thing if you have the instruments. The Dior logo consists of a reasonably simple font so if someone wanted to repeat it they could achieve this fairly easily.

#dior silk scarf replica #dior scarf replica #replica christian dior silk scarf

[roberthunter62]

Bittersweet Me by R.E.M.

From a problem to a contradiction. When something is bittersweet, it means it is first of all sweet, right, with a bitter aftertaste? Not bitter with a touch of sweetness. Something slightly tragic, a victory which cannot be enjoyed, happiness which leaves a bad taste. Having to choose between outcomes, achieving one thing requires you to forgo another. That’s life, the whole time, isn’t it? 

On the other hand, for some unfathomable reason, say ‘bittersweet’ to me and I immediately think of After Eights, the most seventies thing in the world that has improbably survived the fifty intervening years until now. They are even widely available in supermarkets here. An aside: it is clearly a sign of age that I feel slightly dismissive of the current ‘crisis’, noting that when I were a lad, many of the things everyone takes for granted today weren’t around. So, bittersweet: we know we can go on foreign holidays because we did it before, but now we can’t because the world’s a mess. Let’s go back to the seventies... just before my tenth birthday...

Derby had just won the First division championship having beaten Liverpool 1-0 and seen Liverpool draw with Arsenal and Leeds lose to Wolves in their last games. Derby are now in the third division and struggling

We had no telephone in the house. I don’t remember using a telephone for the first time. Now a telephone is no longer even a telephone 

Our black and white TV only got BBC 1 properly. Fortunately, it showed the cricket all day. Our TV is rarely on now, but when it is it can show thousands of different things in full colour

My memory, which may be untrue, is that I never wore long trousers and always wore wellies in the winter if the weather was bad. Now, I’d be quite happy to wear shorts all the time and I ought to buy a pair of wellies.

Yoghurt did not exist, never mind all the weird and wonderful variations of dairy products. Nothing came in plastic pots, puddings were all home-made, as were cakes. Now we buy industrial puddings and cakes from the cake shop.

I yearned after the technological sophistication of a typewriter and a cassette recorder (in the end, I never owned either). Now there are about 9 computers in the house, four in regular use (for just three of us).

Ageing, I guess, is bittersweet. All those memories tempered by the thought of never being able to go back, time is always one way; thank goodness we can remember. 

R.E.M.  - I bought just the one CD, Adventures in Hi-Fi... although, wait a minute: didn’t I own ‘Automatic for the People’ too???  - how could I have owned two albums by a band I had not particular fondness for? Jangly guitars, interesting lyrics, should be right up my street. Another case of yep, that’s good, but something doesn’t quite resonate...

[paeonia-horse]

Kinda forgot to clean this pan for a while. Oops.

#mould #mold #furry #good thing i got my respirator #and my hazmat suit #and my house wellies for wearing in and around the house

[finelinevogue]

hey, if you have the time can you write a blurb where harry gets home from the studio and he's stressed, so the reader ask him to take a bath with her? and it's really fluffy, with rose petals and wine glasses? I know this is all over the place, I'm sorry shakshskwh

we all need a bit of domestic harry fluff in our lives so here we are <33 hope you like it;

You knew something was wrong without having to ask him.

Harry had rushed out of the apartment this morning to go to the studio, having had an important call from Tyler about something, leaving you to clean up around the house all day. However, there had been no good morning text from Harry, or even one from a lunch break, and he hadn’t picked up your call when you did. Harry never ignores you, unless he is in a really bad mood. Something to do with not wanting to be a burden and pass on his troubles to you. So you, being the best girlfriend in the world, had decided to do something kind for him when he gets home.

About an hour ago you’d texted Harry just to check up on him and also so you could time your plan of making him feel better.

To Harry: I love you. Hope you’re okay. Let me know when you’ll be home❤️

From Harry: Sorry about today love. I’ll be home at around 7pm. I love you xx

You’d bought the raw ingredients from Asda and made blueberry muffins - Harry’s favourite - along with buying some avocados in case he preferred to have that on toast when he gets in. You’d bought a bottle of red wine, the cheapest you could find obviously, and poured two glasses waiting. Finally, you’d ran a hot water bath with lavender soap and added a few rose petals, because you knew they were good for calming and relaxing. The bathroom smelt soft and cosy, like a warm blanket on a winters evening.

It was 7:08pm when he walked through the door, you hearing the door shut with a heavy sigh of relief from your boyfriend. He slipped off his blue checkered vans and walked through into the kitchen, his keys making a clattering sound as he dropped them in the key-bowl.

“Y/N, love?” He called out to you, but you didn’t respond. He furrowed his eyebrows at the silence, but even more so at the arrangement that was left on the kitchen counter-side for him.

He made his way over, his socks making him slide slightly on the shiny marble floor. He took in the selection of things on the side; the blueberry muffins, the avocado, the glass of red wine and its’ bottle and even a little cut out photo of you and him that he knew you’d stole from a photo frame - somewhere around the apartment. He smiled as he picked up the photo and remembered the memory well; you latched onto his back as Harry waded through a muddy puddle back in Holmes Chapel, because he didn’t want you to get wet and he’d been the only sensible one in wearing welly boots. You were both laughing and it made Harry’s heart swell at how much your happiness could bring him his too.

He placed the photo down and turned to the envelope that sat next to the plate of muffins. It was a white envelope signed ‘H x’ on the front and underlined. He turned it over and undid the seal, bringing out a card that had written on the front ‘You’ve got this!’ which Harry could’ve sworn he saw in Asda the other day underneath the exam congratulations cards. He smiled at your kindness, turning it over briefly but then sighing when he noticed you’d written a message too.

“God damn you Y/N.” He muttered under his breathe, tears forming in eyes from the overwhelming amount of love he had for you - just as you had for him.

Harry, it read, I know today had been tough but look, you got through it and i’m proud of you and for that you deserve a blueberry muffin! If you’d rather share a glass of wine with me then come join me upstairs and we’ll finish the bottle together. I love you always. Yours, Y/N. It was signed with a kiss of your lips in pink lipstick. Harry brought the paper to his lips and kissed over the mark where you’d kissed, never feeling so loved than right now.

You were an absolute treasure.

Harry picked up his glass of wine and the bottle, before heading off upstairs. Originally he’d thought that you’d been in bed, waiting for him with a tub of raspberry ripple ice-cream and the latest episode of Love Island, but as he ascended the stairs he could smell the lavender bubbles and the even sweeter scents of your rose petals you loved so much.

He walked into the bedroom first, just to make sure that you weren’t actually in there, before making his way to the bathroom. As he opened the door, the heat hit him all at once making him feel so cosy and blanketed.

Then he saw you.

You were shoulder deep in the bath, which was tucked into the corner of the room in a triangle sort of shape, looking as beautiful as ever. Your hair was up and out of the water, it not being its’ wash day today, and you’d accidentally given yourself a bubble beard. You looked innocently perfect, even with a glass of wine in your hand. You smiled when you saw Harry, moving from the far side of the bath to the side closest to Harry. You rested your arm on the side of the bath, propping your head up to have a steadier vision of your boyfriend.

“Hello.” You spoke softly as Harry walked over to the bath, placing both his glass and bottle on the side of it carefully. He then came in front of you and crouched down with a crack of his old-man knees.

“Hi beautiful.” He stroked your cheek with his fingers, watching as you hummed in sight of having him so close and so loved up.

“You okay?” You asked, looking into his eyes for any sign that he was about to lie. You wanted him to be honest with you and honest he was.

“I can’t lie and say everything was perfect today, no.” He chuckled, you pouting when you heard his answer.

“I’m sorry. Want to take a bath with me?” You asked and this is exactly what Harry loved about you. You didn’t force him to talk about whatever had happened when you could clearly see he was still working through it himself, instead you simply comforted him and tried to help him remind him that you were here for him whenever he was ready to open up.

“Love to. Let me just go undress.” He stood up, but you reached out to grab him on his blue jeans before he could get very far.

“Don’t go. Undress here, please?” It was the little please that made Harry cave, not wanting to make you upset. He’d do anything to make sure you were happy.

He nodded and pulled off his socks first, making you laugh as he wiggled his oddly sized toes. Next was his grey TPWK jumper that he pulled off over his head along with his t-shirt.

“Damn.” You wolf whistled as his torso became exposed, making Harry shake his head and laugh at you from your silliness. “This strip tease is ten out of ten, Styles.”

“Oh shut up you.” He laughed as he pulled his jeans off and then finally his boxers. He didn’t even hesitate on that last item of clothing, both of you being absolutely comfortable with exposing yourself in front of each other. There was nothing sexual about being naked with each other, however, this time. You were just in love with each other. Simple as that.

He stepped into the bath, you moving back over to the far side so he could climb in. Once he sunk down and submerged his body he let out the biggest and happiest sigh, making you giggle. He took his glass of wine and took a large sip from it, leaning his back in relief afterwards.

“Nice?” You asked, knowing the answer already because it was sat proud on his face.

His eyes met yours and you pursed your lips under his gaze. You could see the cogs turning in his head and you only wished that you could see inside his head, just for a moment, to understand how he felt.

“C’mere.” He spoke softly, turning to put his glass back on the side as you shifted over towards him. Once you met him, he took your glass.

“Hey!” You whined in protest.

“Can have it back in a minute. Just want you for a bit, okay?” He explained, devoting his entire attention to you now. You sat on his lap and spiralled your arms around his neck, Harry’s hands finding their home on your waist.

Your lips both did the talking then.

He cupped your face gently and pulled you into him until your felt his plush pink lips kiss yours. You divulged in him and his love, feeling his warmth everywhere and your mouth. He was warming your heart the same way the bath warmed your bodies. There was nothing rushed or sensual about the kiss, it was simple and pretty. His lips moulded to yours perfectly and his tongue made sure to slide it’s way inside your mouth for a taste. You tasted divine - like the richest, most expensive, of wines. He pulled back first, not before you could push an extra peck to his lips for good measure.

“I’m so lucky to have you, Y/N.” Harry smiled, keeping ahold of your face as he spoke to you.

“And I you.”

Harry shook his head as the misunderstanding of his words. “No. You seriously have turned my life into something worth living and I couldn’t be happier to be with you. Y’so special to me, Y/N, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.” You leant to kiss him again. “And i’m here for you for anything.”

“I know. That’s why i’m lucky to have you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #harry styles fluff #harry styles bath #harry styles wine #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles boyfriend blurb #harry styles masterlist #finelinevogue blurbs #finelinevogue masterlist #harry styles fic rec

[lunapwrites]

Pasketti and Welly Boots

I randomly got into a brief Wolfstar Raising Harry mood (I say, as if I haven't been reading all of @impishtubist 's posts) so here, have a fluffy scene.

"What should we have for breakfast today, Pup?" Sirius asked, tying his hair into a messy knot at the back of his head. Harry tapped his chin, humming to himself as if deep in thought.

"Pasketti," he said decisively. Remus snorted from his place at the table, face buried behind the newspaper.

(The crossword was set over in Sirius' usual place already -- he was a gem.)

"'Pasketti,' huh?" Sirius scooped Harry up and perched him on his hip. "You sure you don't want... bacon?"

He tickled Harry's sides, and the boy shook his head, giggling.

"No!"

"How about... eggs?"

"No!"

Sirius gasped in mock-hurt.

"Not even pancakes?"

"Noooo!" Harry moaned, and flopped over Sirius' arms like a particularly wriggly tea towel. "Pasketti!"

"You heard the lad," Remus said solemnly, safely ensconced behind the Prophet so Harry couldn't see him laughing -- but Sirius could see the telltale glint in his eyes. "Perhaps we can have pancakes for supper instead?"

"Yeah!" Harry squealed, his tiny fists flailing excitedly. Sirius pretended to scowl at Remus.

"Don't go giving him ideas!"

(He loved when Remus gave Harry ideas.)

"Not my fault you gave our three-year-old the power to make a decision today."

(He also loved when Remus didn't catch himself before he called Harry theirs.)

"Says the man who let him go about town in a backwards jumper and mismatched welly boots yesterday!" he shot back, archly.

Remus folded the paper, setting it down on the table in front of him, and raised an eyebrow.

"Says the man who took approximately a half dozen pictures before letting us leave the house like that." (Touche.) "Besides, it's important to let him have some autonomy, remember?"

(Low blow, referencing the half-dozen parenting books Sirius had panic-bought when they'd taken Harry home. But a double-edged sword when Remus had read them too.)

"It is," Sirius agreed, "which is why I'm going to ask Haz if he'd like meatballs with his 'pasketti' this morning."

"Yes please!" Harry cheered. Sirius pressed a scratchy kiss to his forehead.

"Only since you asked so nicely, little man!"

He wondered, sometimes, if James would have made his son spaghetti and meatballs for breakfast. If Lily would have let him wear mismatched welly boots to jump into puddles with. If they'd have joked around their kitchen like this, so full of love they could burst.

Maybe. Probably. But they'd never know now, so it was up to Sirius and Remus to make up the difference.

It wasn't perfect. Merlin knew they had bad days too, days where Harry was throwing fits about everything from his shirt being itchy to his feet not being detachable (that was a strange one), or worse: days when he'd wake up screaming. There were moon-nights and whisky nights and nights where he and Remus spoke in sheathed daggers, fingers dancing on the hilt -- try me, come on. Give me an excuse.

But they had been through the worst thing they could imagine and survived it, so now they had a new worst thing instead, something they had already gotten a taste of.

(Hours after they'd ensured Harry was okay, Sirius had caught Remus ugly-crying in the loo because he was the one who'd fed him grapes, and Sirius cried with him because he hadn't thought to stop him.)

It was worth it. Harry was worth it.

So they made 'pasketti' and took Harry for strolls after the rain and laughed at what an awful mess they all were at the end of it all, so full of love they could burst.

Sirius set a little plate down on the table with pasta and meatballs cut up into toddler-sized bites, and Harry grabbed his little fork without even looking up.

"What do you say?" Remus prompted. Harry shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth as Sirius started to sit down.

"Thank you, Daddy."

Sirius froze.

He exchanged a brief, shocked glance with Remus, whose eyebrows had nearly vanished behind his fringe.

Act natural, his eyes screamed.

"You're welcome, baby," Sirius managed, barely, and sat.

And breathed.

In. Out.

(James was probably laughing at him from beyond the veil, the bastard. Lily too. Twats, both of them. He missed them so much. And he was grateful, in a guilty, twisting way, that they had given him this.)

He met Remus' eyes again, and smiled.

It wasn't perfect. It was theirs.

#remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter #kidfic #writing #my writing #raising harry #smol drabble #pasketti #hp

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

Diamond Hearts

Hi y’all! Welcome to my new mini series ☺️ thank you to all who participated in my lil survey/poll. It was a tight race between recipes 2 & 3 so I’ll eventually do both, but this is....recipe #2!! I hope you all enjoy! ❤️ as always, feedback is always appreciated! Besos!

The sleepy town of Aldbourne was the last place Marie had ever expected to find herself in. Not that she cared, not at this point. If there was one thing she had learned in the last year it was not to care - about anything. She had cared once upon a time, she had even cared enough to try to rebuild, and that’s how she ended up in Aldbourne trudging along a sodden road in her wellies.

The rain had begun as soon as Marie had left her Aunt’s house. It was an unwelcome omen for how she suspected the night would progress. The day had already been long and exhausting. Marie had barely made it home in time for a depressing tea before she was back off into the night to work her second shift. She had been carrying on this schedule for nearly a year now and it was beginning to wear on her. At least for now her desperation was enough to keep her going. 

The warmth of The Blue Boar was a welcome relief. The rain had chilled her bones despite it being the end of the summer season. Marie shook her umbrella out on the step before swinging the door closed behind her. She passed by her doe eyed co-worker, Joan, on her way to the back room providing only the slightest of hellos. The immediate room behind the bar was wide, shallow and chock full of half-opened crates, random stools and pieces of furniture including a beaten up dresser that the employees used as a makeshift locker for their personal items. The dresser had originally been with bar owner Murray’s sister in London. But she and her children had since moved in with Murray and there was no room for their dresser in his small cottage. The mismatched array of items matched the staff Murray employed. Marie took secret pleasure in being the most cosmopolitan of the ladies who had systematically replaced the young men bussed off to war. Joan, who she was to work alongside tonight, was much more provincial. 

“Welcome, welcome!” The barmaid with straw colored hair greeted Marie as she arrived behind the bar, tying an apron around her waist.

“Thanks, Joan.” Marie scanned the near empty bar, “busy night eh?”

Joan looked around with wide eyes, “I suppose it has been a bit busy.”

Marie smirked, “however did you manage?”

Joan, ever innocent replied, “it is nice to have your extra set of hands here now.”

Marie smiled saccharinely in response before turning to the dishes in the small sink. She did her best to busy herself, hoping the time would pass quicker that way. Joan explored the floor making idle conversation with loyal patrons and returning with handfuls of empty glasses for Marie. Eventually, she took a place behind the bar once all the empty glasses seemed momentarily collected. 

The night was like any other; sloth like just like the town that it existed in. Periodically, the door would swing open and shut, ushering in the odd soldier or dodgy old man. Marie focused on her cleaning, breaking between washing and drying dishes to wipe down the counter. She did her best to stay focused on her tasks but her mind kept wandering to the only thing she seemed to be able to focus on. Her mind obsessively counted the notes that were tucked away in her handbag in the back room. She calculated this way and that way to determine just how much she could possibly leech from the few bills she had to her name. She was lost in thought when an American soldier approached her end of the bar. 

She was started out of her daydream when he cleared his throat loudly. 

“What can I get you?” Marie asked reflexively. 

The broad shouldered soldier slid onto a stool beside another American who had been nursing the last sips of his beer for a bit. “Never had a broad bartend before, at least not in a place like this.”

Marie stared at the unknown soldier with a blank expression, “what do you know about it?”

“Well, actually, back home my buddy here-,” the wide mouthed soldier sitting beside him began to say.

“What can I get you?” Marie repeated, cutting the jovial man off. The man faked a hurt expression but Marie just ignored him. Her shift had only begun - she wasn’t sure how she was going to make it any further if these guys stuck around; maybe Murray would let her do inventory in the back. Just a few more hours until she was free, but the itch was already bad. In the back of her mind Marie could picture the back door of the store room. The memory of dimmed lights in the very back room, no more than a closet, and the sight of smooth paper notes on a small table soothed her. Only a few more hours she reminded herself but would she survive these American soldiers? 

The man hesitated in answering, so Marie moved as if she were going to walk away. “Two beers!” The soldier with the empty drink nearly shouted. Marie barely acknowledged the order but went to the tap to fill the glasses.

“You have to forgive her,” Joan slid over from her side of the bar, “her parents were killed in the blitz and she had to move here after—,”

“Joan,” Marie snapped, “if you’re so happy talking there, you can serve them!” Marie expertly slid one of the glasses down the bar. The younger barmaid flinched but the broad shouldered soldier caught it smoothly in his large palm. “Thanks,” he said in a low baritone. A moment later, Marie slid the other down, which the same soldier intercepted. He then passed it to the cheeky soldier beside him.

“Thanks Alton,” the shorter soldier said.

“Sure thing, George.” 

Now, for a moment, there was no one else to serve. Marie allowed herself to relax on the opposite end of the bar, away from where Joan was happily chatting up the two soldiers. Her body ached from the days work. She had spent the early afternoon filling crates with cured meats and canned goods for Murray to deliver to the base. The Americans had only recently arrived in their town and though they were slightly obnoxious, everyone in the town was grateful for the economic stimulation they brought with them. Murray was particularly pleased as the Americans had purveyed some of his services to feed their soldiers. And though her body hurt, Marie was also thankful for the work. The more money Murray had, the more he would be willing to hire her out. Not that he was resistant in the past - but now he could stop making up excuses to pay her which made Marie feel slightly less guilty. 

She was lucky to have such a patient boss as Murray. She had asked a lot from him since he hired her. She had borrowed against him on more than one occasion, and she was ever grateful for the tender hearted giant. 

The time passed slowly as Marie’s internal itch grew stronger. Finally, Marie and Joan began to wipe down the tables and put the stools up. The last local was chased out of the bar when Marie assured Joan that she could lock up alone. The naive young girl gratefully left for home and Marie finally allowed her excitement to rise up in her chest. 

Adrenaline began pumping into her bloodstream. Though exhausted only an hour ago, Marie suddenly felt alive. Tom had arrived about 30 minutes earlier and had slipped into the back room when Joan wasn’t looking. Marie knew that everything would be set up as soon as she put away the last of the dishes.

Maries palms began to sweat with nervous excitement as she grabbed her handbag from the dresser. She took the few steps it took to cross the shallow room to reach the back room. She knocked lightly three times and the door opened for her.

The vision of a dim light above a small card table was like morphine for Marie. She instantly felt better than she had all day. It was 1 am and she had finally made it to the event of her evening. Marie quickly took her regular seat at the table and tucked her handbag between her knees. Only then did she notice the broad shouldered soldier from earlier that night. 

He nodded curtly at her, which she appreciated and returned with her own slight gesture of acknowledgment. The game quickly began. Tom dealt out the cards. Marie gripped them like her life depended on them, which it somewhat did. The smallest wins kept Marie going. It was the only time she felt hope again and it made her drunk. Even when she held a weak combination in her hand, she felt powerful and reckless. At one point, the broad shouldered soldier shot her a concerned look as he raked most of her money towards him.

Thank God she beat him in the hand after that and Tom called it a night. Marie would’t have bene able to stand losing in all finality to that American. In all truth, he had done nothing to her except show her the slightest expression of pity. And pity, that’s what she hated the most.

After Tom and the other men left, Marie locked up the room and the remaining entrances into the bar. Marie felt great. Despite the late hour she felt energized from her win. Sure, she was down a quid or two from where she had been earlier that day but she had won. She couldn’t help but smile as she made her way back down the gravel road to her Aunt’s house. Marie was so distracted by the momentary respite of happiness she nearly ran into the figure that stood in the center of her path. 

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed jumping back in surprise. 

“Good evening, Marie.” 

Marie’s blood ran cold. She recognized that voice and immediately tensed up. “It’s no longer evening,” she retorted.

“Well, you haven’t been home to sleep yet, so I can’t exactly say morning can I?” The gravely voice replied.

Marie swallowed, her heart began beating loudly in her ears. “Have you been watching me?” 

“Of course,” the man responded. In her peripheral vision Marie noticed three other figures emerge from the darkness. “I keep a close eye on all of my assets,” the man said.

Marie cleared her throat as she nervously eyed the four men in front of her, “there’s no need,” she tried to sound confident, “you can trust me. I’ll have your money soon.” 

“It’s already been too long, Marie,” the man growled, “I’m not going to wait any longer.”

“Okay, I understand,” Marie nodded fervently. 

“You know your other option,” the man sneered, “you can always come work off your debt.”

Marie scowled at him. She was grateful for the cover of darkness as her cheeks flared red and her brow began to sweat despite the cool evening air. “That’s not an option,” she said firmly, “I’ll have your money.”

The man just stared coldly at her. Marie clutched her handbag close to herself and pushed past the man. She refused to look back as she sped walk the rest of the way home, the spine chilling laughs of the men echoing behind her.

#band of brothers #1940s #world war 2 #fanfiction #alton more #George luz #Joe liebgott #floyd talbert #love triangle #gambling #female protagonist #original character