#have you got hotsies for him yet? please tell me you have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saevus-brutalis · 3 years

Photo

Watch out there’s a new senior citizen in town...

After 11 unfinished concept sketches, 20+ hours of work and 213 layers later I finally finished the ultimate reference sheet of my boy Vincent Elijah 😌

I’m gonna probably hate myself for that cyberarm design later when I’ll have to draw it in detail again but oh well i fucking love it.

I guess this is what 8 months of character development does to you (aka never being fully pleased with how your oc looks)

Updated info about this mf below the cut bc i hate long posts💀

don’t repost my artwork without my knowledge or permission

Short basic bio:

Birth name; Elijah Samuel [REDACTED] Full name; Vincent Elijah Vahn (yeah changed it again sue me) Alias; V, Vince (close friends and partner), Mr. Vahn (whilst working for Vault or during a very formal setting) Age; 58 (born on, November 12th, 2019 at 05:31:11AM ) Zodiac/Chinese zodiac: Scorpio/Snake [more info about it here] Height: 198 cm / 6′6″ MBTI; Logistician ISTJ-T [more about it here] Aligment; True Neutral Anthem; Goliath by Woodkid

[More (kinda?) updated info about him here]

Distinct physical features:

A diagonal scar on the bottom of his right hand from slicing his palm multiple times for a blood pack. He really values this type of „deal”, because „Nothing bonds tighter than blood. Nothing means more than a pact singed with blood. It flows within us, a cycle. Then it repeats until the blood cells die but then new ones take their place. And the cycle continues. Unstoppable and constant until we die and the loop breaks and shatters into pieces. They sink to the ground and rot and rot and rot until there’s nothing left. Words? They just can’t give you enough assurance somebody won’t just screw you over. Blood is a promise, words are nothing.” (cringy enough? lol im such a bad poet dunno if it even makes sense)

Now he has streaks of gray hairs so 😌 he’s a silver fox

Stretch marks on the sides of his buttocks and upper thighs

Deep-set eyes

Big hooked nose

Huge mommy milkers

Thunder thighs

Stretched both ears (40mm)

Chrome plates on his ribs - cyber “scars” from lung and heart transplant

Has the number “444” tattooed on the inside of his lower lip.

Cyberware:

Custom made cybernetic arm, model Nocturne PX* 44 Monarch. The prosthetic is made out of a mix of carbon fibers and a material similar to porcelain but far more stronger. It’s light and durable, performs just like a normal ‘ganic arm thanks to complex joints model. The surface of the arm is matte and smooth. It’s littered with countless microscopic sensors and neurocircuits that send touch signals right up to is brain so every inch of his cybernetic arm feels just like his organic one.

Despite being able to afford the most expensive RealSkinn he opted for the “raw” look of it and instead commissioned his ex-input to engrave and redesign it for him.

*PX - Power X (10) - the strongest and most durable model out of the series.Only few models were ever made. This version of the Nocturne Cyberarm is made solely for private (wealthy) clients who were recommended by (for example) a fixer.

Some updated trivia i guess:

He recently started wearing bandanas around his forehead to keep his baby hairs in check but they still keep on falling on his forehead *heavy irritated sigh*

Mostly wears (black) clothes made out of synthetic leather (unless he thrifted some vintage clothes made out of real leather). He prefers leather to denim.

Has handcuffs dangling from his belt loops (at all times) for you know… catching criminals?

Paints his nails funky patters but mainly sticks to muted colors or just black

And for some weird trivia about him:

Definitely calls people „bestie” (especially in a formal setting) (un)ironically just to piss them off

He’s a self-proclaimed Slut™.Fucks basically everything that walks (or not) and looks like a dude. He’s borderline a sex addict. Sometimes he shows the signs of compulsive sexual behavior (hypersexuality).

Uncensored nsft version: here

Also i made a separate Twiter acc (@b_brutalis) so maybe I’ll also start posting there :^) But if you see me follow you for your nsfw art there no you didn’t

#eat him up ladies gents and fellow they thems #oc: Vincent Elijah Vahn #oc: Vincent Elijah Vigo #yeah i changed his name again so i have to fix the tags again....#cant believe i just drew a full on dick on this man #nervy nervy #pp man #have you got hotsies for him yet? please tell me you have #im a proud momma i guess #cyberpunk 2077 oc #male V #cyberpunk male V #cyberpunk 2077 male V #cyberpunk 2077 V #saevus-brutalis art #brut art #saevus brutalis art

139 notes · View notes

pippiessweathogs · 6 years

Text

That 70’s Show/ Welcome Back Kotter crossover

Title: What Happens in Brooklyn…

Summary: When Donna receives a summer job opportunity in Brooklyn, she plans a road trip for her and the rest of the gang. Once there, they spend time getting to know her cousin and his friends.

Chapter three

Everyone stepped onto the Coney Island Boardwalk, prepared for the adventure of a lifetime. Each of them expressed varying degrees of excitement as they walked and explored, taking in all the sights. Kelso held an everlasting childlike wonder as he looked in all directions with an open-mouthed smile. Fez immediately asked about the best places to find candy or even carnival type snacks. Jackie pondered about shopping areas, but scrunched up her face in disgust over the idea of the only stores along the boardwalk involved tourists and souvenirs.

Hyde hung back a few feet from the rest of the group, scoping out the area from behind his sunglasses. He stood for a moment, thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans, and he gazed around as though he was trying to find something that would impress him. His Zen-like cool surrounded him and covered his real excitement of being in a big city that would bring him near cool people such as Lou Reed.

Eric, while excited, desperately tried to hide his giddiness. He thought that if he could play it cool then he would have an easy time impressing the Brooklyn people and not coming across like a tourist. This failed the moment he saw a souvenir shop with a Star Wars themed Coney Island trinket.

Donna gazed around the area, trying to contain her own giddiness. Playing it cool was much easier for her as she took in all the sights. She knew she would have to keep her cool if she were to keep a look out for her cousin. He had left that morning to meet up with his friends and he told Donna to meet up with them on the boardwalk. She just had no idea how difficult it would be to keep everyone moving in the same direction together and not get swept away in the crowd. She was going to make the most out of this trip, even if it meant having to constantly wrangle her friends every step of the way. At first, her silent search for her cousin seemed daunting and quite hopeless due to the size of the crowd on the boardwalk, as well as her lack of knowledge of the area when it came to navigating through it. Luckily for her, and her friends, Vinnie spotted them.

“Hey Pinciotti!” He called out.

Donna looked ahead and grinned. “Barbarino!” She waved at him and then looked back to wave her friends along. “Come on I see Vinnie up ahead.”

They followed Donna, weaving through the crowd, until they reached where her cousin and his friends stood. When they got there, Donna and Vinnie laughed and hugged, greeting each other. Vinnie put an arm around her shoulders and then they faced his friends.

“Everybody I’d like you to meet my cousin Donna.”

Epstein looked her up and down. His eyes were slightly widened and a smirk spread across his lips. “Hey Vinnie they sure grow them tall and good looking in your family. Don’t they?”

“Yeah and they grow ‘em the opposite way in yours.” Freddie laughed.

His laugh quickly grew scarce and his demeanor suddenly changed to become a bit more serious. He stepped closer to Donna and gave her a slick smile. “Hi there. The name’s Freddie Boom Boom Washington. And the pleasure is all mine.” He went to kiss her hand but stopped when he heard the next voice behind him.

“Freddie you better keep that pleasure to yourself unless you want to be home in bed nursing your broken bones.” Vernajean, standing right behind him, said while looking none too pleased.

Freddie dropped Donna’s hand, rose his own hands near his head and backed away from her. “Right, right.”

Vinnie grinned and then looked toward the girls. “Yeah, and that’s Vernajean, Freddie’s girlfriend. And,” Vinnie took Rosalie by the hand and brought her forward. “This is Rosalie Totsy.”

Donna smiled “Oh yeah you’ve told me about her.”

“Hi Hotsy!” The four Point Place guys called out together.

With a slight laugh, Donna shook Rosalie’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Hotsy.”

Rosalie looked at Vinnie, frowning lightly. “What? You even told Wisconsin about that name?”

“Not all of Wisconsin. Just Donna. And now her friends know too. But that part you can’t blame on me.” Vinnie said with a grin.

“Yeah thanks a lot for nothin’.” She rolled her eyes.

“Not like they weren’t thinking it already.” Epstein chimed in. He then looked over at Jackie, catching her eye. He smirked a little at her.

Vinnie stepped closer to Epstein and used his shoulder as an arm rest. Epstein quickly moved it off. “This is Epstein.” Vinnie grinned

Epstein stepped forward, closer to Jackie and took her by the hand. “That’s Juan Louis Pedro Felipo de Huevos Epstein. From San Juan.” He kissed her hand. “At your service.”

Jackie pulled her hand away with a grimace. “Eeewww! He’s Mexican!”

“Jackie, San Juan is in Puerto Rico.” Donna said

“Whatever it’s still gross.”

“Funny.” Said Hyde. “I never knew Epstein was a Puerto Rican name.”

“It ain’t.” Epstein grinned. He placed one hand over his heart and held up the other hand. Before he spoke again, he dropped all traces of Hispanic tones from his speech and added more of a Jewish tone. “It is one of the oldest and proudest Jewish names in these parts.”

Again, Jackie grimaced. “Eeew! He’s Puerto Rican and Jewish!”

Epstein turned towards his friends, confused. “What I do?”

“Please excuse my friend Jackie.” Said Donna. “She doesn’t know any better because she’s a bitch.

“Jackie, eh?” Epstein smirked, looking at Jackie again. “Yeah I ain’t gettin’ anywhere with her while they’re here.”

“Yeah, Kelso isn’t going to get anywhere with her either, and he dated her for two years.” Hyde spoke up before laughing a little.

“And which one of you is Kelso?” Freddie asked

��That would be me!” Kelso waved before stepping forward. “What a city, huh? This’ll be a great place to get discovered by a talent scout. Bet it would happen while I’m here with my whole Travolta vibe.”

The Sweathogs gave him dirty looks, in disbelief over what he had said. Vinnie, unable to make sense of it, started laughing.

“You? A Travolta vibe? Oh man.” He placed a hand on Kelso’s shoulder and laughed some more. “Listen, I’m practically the guy’s twin and I ain’t been discovered yet. There’s no way you will get discovered before me, especially when you’re walkin’ around my city.”

The others laughed while Kelso took a disappointed step back. Letting his laughter fade, Vinnie then went over to Horshack.

“Alright, alright let’s get back to introductions here. Well I guess the last one of my friends here is,“ he brought Horshack close and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Horshack.”

Horshack looked at the others with a bit of a shy grin. “Hello. How are ya? I’m Arnold Horshack.” he finished his statement by entering his laugh.

Eric giggled “Oh man!” he giggled again “That’s the nerdiest laugh I ever heard! How did all of you get to be friends with such a nerd?”

Freddie looked him up and down with a disapproving frown. “Looks like we might be sayin’ the same ‘bout yo’ friends and you.”

Epstein stepped forward towards Eric, and got right in his face. “Hey. You makin’ fun of my friend Horshack here?” he clenched his fists. “Because nobody does that and lives, long as I’m around.”

“Hey!” Hyde stepped forward. “You leave Forman alone. He’s my Horshack.”

Epstein looked at Hyde. “And who are you?”

“I’m Hyde.”

“What is this?” Rosalie asked “Battle of the body guards?”

“Yeah.” Vernajean added “Why don’t you two turkeys break it up. We’re supposed to be making friends, not starting up some kind of turf war on the boardwalk.”

Epstein stepped away from Eric, and then he and Hyde relaxed their tough attitudes and laughed. Epstein and Hyde even gave each other a slick handshake, declaring that they were going to like getting to know each other.

“Oh well I guess that’s everybody.” Donna said

“Everybody?” Fez asked, taking a step forward, offended. “So you’re going to forget Fez as always?”

“Oh Fez! I’m sorry! Come here.” She brought him closer to her. “Everybody, this is Fez.”

“What kind of name is Fez?” Vinnie asked

“Well it’s not his real name.” Donna replied. “We can’t pronounce his real name so we call him Fez. Sort of… well short for foreign exchange student.”

Fez grinned. “Yes my real name is-“

Right as he was speaking, a nearby store blasted loud music out the door, so loud that it completely drowned out what Fez was saying. Coincidentally, as he finished, someone closed the door and the music no longer could be heard.

“Yeah I ain’t going to remember that.” Vinnie said “Probably good that they call you Fez.”

“What?” Epstein asked, confused and looking at the other Sweathogs. “He actually heard that?”

“Ok good.” Donna said “looks like all the introductions are done. Vinnie, how about you and your friends show us around Coney Island? We’re all dyin’ to have some fun. Been a long trip from Wisconsin you know.”

Vinnie grinned, flashing his dimples. “Sure. Let’s go. We know all the best places here.”

The two groups joined together, talking as they headed down the boardwalk. The Sweathogs immediately jumped into the tour guide role, leading the others to their favorite spots in Coney island. As they went to their cherished spots together, they all felt the same thing. Even though they had all just met, they could tell that they would become great friends during the time that they would have together.

#Welcome Back Kotter #That 70s Show #crossover fanfiction #fanfiction #What Happens in Brooklyn

6 notes · View notes

castawxayaway · 6 years

Text

not your average night

collection of writing

just to make this clear as otherwise, it might be a bit confusing- this is set in 1920′s during the prohibition. I’m aware there was not a prohibition in the UK, so interpret it how you want. there is a lot of slang used that I believe is predominantly American. but I’ve been wanting to do something like this for ages and am pleased with how it worked out!

(also I might as well include translations for some of the words that are less than obvious to figure out to save confusion- also they may not be 100% accurate but all the words came from one website so good as we going to get!)

bluenose: killjoy Mrs Grundy: uptight hotsy totsy: attractive/ pleasing to the eye don’t take any wooden nickels: don’t do anything dumb eggs: wealthy people with extravagant lifestyles zozzled: shitfaced Oliver Twist: extremely good dancer Iron my shoelaces: be excused Four-flusher: gold digger handcuffed: engagement ring dewdropper: wallflower ossified: drunk jake: okay/fine gasper: cigarette Sheba: sexually desired woman wurp: buzzkill

All I could hear was the roaring jazz play from inside, the place where secrets were kept hidden whilst the sun slept along with most of the city. But, there were those invited along, or in my case had many connections to events like these.

“You sure it’s sl’right?” I grab onto my brother's arm, causing him to turn and face me. He smiles softly, fixing my diamond headband into its place and brought my curls forward, framing my face.

He glances behind him and I watch as girls in flapper dressers of golds, blacks and silvers walk by, a fur wrap around their arms as their small heels click almost in sync along the pavement to the descending staircase. “Why wouldn’t it be? Stop being such a bluenose.” I scoffed at his response and punched his arm lightly.

“I’m no bluenose! I’ll show you.” Walking ahead of him I straighten my dress as the frills sway around my knees and wear a small, but inviting smile on my face. Ought to show him, calling me a bluenose that Mrs Grundy.

Walking down the stairs I can hear him calling my name, but I focus solely on the music as it fills my ear. The sax that blends with the trumpet and the occasional piano. My feet can’t move quick enough as two large men stand either side of the doors. “Aren’t you a hotsy tosty.” One of the guards speaks up, and I laugh it off as they open the door.

“Bet you say that to all the ladies.” I wink at him and he pulls on his suspenders, making them snap against his large chest. Another man inside pulls back the beaded doorway and I politely nod, unaware of the sight before me and how vast it could be compared to what I had pictured.

Before me down the entrance was a large stage where the band performed, all in white suits and red bowties playing their instruments as a ground danced below. Yet in centre stage was a microphone, vacant of a singer leaving the gold curtain backdrop exposed. “Where is the performer?” I turn to ask my brother, sensing his presence to my left.

He links my arm with his as we walk down into the crowd and I look around, allowing myself to take in my surroundings. To our left is a wall long length bar, nearly every set is occupied as I see various bottles being lifted from behind on the glass shelves. My eyes follow the bartenders who mix various liquids and shake them before pouring it with grace into the glasses. “You wouldn’t even know it were the prohibition here.” I joke to my brother and he manages to crack a smile.

“I’m going to get a drink, want one?” Nodding in response his arm slips from mine, “Don’t take any wooden nickels!” I roll my eyes at his remark, what bad can I cause by standing on the spot? Glancing to my right to see a series of red velvet booths with gold lining the fabric with wooden tables in the centre.

In one booth, rather blatantly sit six eggs. You could sniff ‘em from a mile off based on their choice of suits and their suit vests that match their jackets and trousers along with their hats as they smoke. Clouds of grey disguise their faces and I turn away, not wanting to be caught staring and giving off the wrong impression.

“Wanna dance?” Someone places their hand on my forearm and I turn around to face them, assuming it were my brother with one drink in his hand from having drunk his at the bar. He’s always eager, coming home from these places completely zozzled.

Facing the stranger I was pleasantly surprised, and without a second to spare I pulled his arms towards mine and backed into the crowd of couples dancing. As we begin to dance the music becomes more lively, “Time to Charleston.” He laughs and everyone positions themselves and we all dance in sync.

Watching the stranger dance he moves his feet with some agility but lacks the finesse I see others perform with. We join hands and dance together, and now I get a better glimpse of the stranger. Bright brown eyes and blonde hair with one of those suits on from earlier. “I mean you aren’t much of an Oliver Twist I’ll say.” I half-joked, wanting to dance with someone else as my dress’ frills swing from side to side, never remaining still.

Looking around as we danced I saw a young gentleman sat at the bar, watching the crowd dance. Unlike this egg, he seemed less dapper in deep blue trousers as opposed to black with a creased suit shirt and suspenders. Watching him eye the crowd I saw him take his glasses out, covering more of his face and I smile towards him, hoping for this stranger to avail me of this situation.

Zoning out from my dancer's chatter I laugh along, smiling to him as we dance all the whilst trying to gain the attention of the cat. “Excuse me, I just gotta iron my shoelaces.” The egg pardons me and I walk off slowly, slightly more sultry and in the fashion of a woman as opposed to the child my brother deems me as being.

Once the man is out of sight I find a vacant spot, conveniently next to the onlooker at the bar and order myself a drink. As it is presented before me I take a swig, feeling the burn slowly crawl down my throat and I resist the urge to cough forcefully as I wipe my mouth with the white silk gloves. “That’s a pretty dress you got on.” Placing my glass down I shift my focus to the gentleman next to me.

“Never worn it before, got it for tonight.” I tell him as we both look in different directions. He observes the dancing and I focus on my drink, not wanting to risk ending up zozzled like my brother on my first night out since the prohibition. “Do you dance? Or just watch everyone?”

I can see his feet bounce along to the beat of the music, “I can’t dance, no Oliver Twist like those guys.” He motions to the dancers who dominate the floor, the girls twirl and the frills of their dressers fly exposing their thighs for the short while as they laugh giddily.

“So you come for the drink?” Looking down a drop of whiskey fills his glass. “Or perhaps the music?” This time I see his eyebrow rise and he turns around, his knees clumsily knock mine.

Getting a better look at him I smile, behind his glasses he has warm blue eyes that wear hardship in his gaze. His jaw is lined with stubble and some marks of dirt whilst he continuously brushes his dark brown hair out of his face as it hangs down. “Don’t get a lotta music like this at the docks. Nights like these, take every chance to listen along.” He picks up his glass, taking the last sip before sighing as he places it down. No sooner is it cleared and replaced. “Gotta name doll?”

“Might do, how ‘bout yourself?” I ask as I sip my own drink and one side of his lips rise, a half smile forming playfully.

“Name’s Dan.” He picks up my hand, kissing my glove lightly and I chuckle at the action. “Not a lotta guys do that? You used to eggs I suppose.”

I shake my head, “Far from it. Don’t mix with what you aren’t worth.” Words my Mother always battered into me. “I keep on finding upstage guys, once a four-flusher who my brother highly disagreed of.” Thinking back I remember how my brother forced him out of the house as he eyed up our decor rather than me. “Short-lived relationship, no handcuff which I expected it’d end with.”

“So, you aren’t engaged? Single then?” He straightens up, a smile now being displayed.

“Do you see a handcuff on my finger?” Slipping my glove off he picks it up, his nails slightly dirty, but I don’t mind. He’s different from the guys I meet on my way to see my brother at work. He hasn’t thrown himself at me or called me names, he’s just sat here like a dewdropper. “There you go then.” I remark and take my own hand back, placing my gloves in my bag.

Whilst he stares at me with a smile I tell him my name before I take another more confident sip at my drink. “You gotta beautiful name.” He huffs and I smile in response. “So, what brings you here?”

“I wanted to come out, heard all about these places from my brother. Got a dress, used my Mum’s headband and here I am.” Motioning to myself I chink my drink to his, feeling less constricted and more free with him. “So, any of your dockers with you tonight?”

He begins to look around, pointing three others out to me as they remain dotted around the club. “We’re pretty tight, grew up with those guys. They’re always complaining ‘bout me, I wanted to sing you see.”

“So why don’t you? Ain’t too late to try.” He shakes his head in disagreement.

“See me?” He stands up, motioning to his attire and pulls on his suspenders and lack of tie. “I don’t fit the part. Can’t ‘ford such a thing anyway.”

Sighing in disappointment he turns around, back to face the bar whilst I stare aimlessly at the stage. Something clicks and I lightly smack his arm, “Dan, you, you should sing!” My eyes wide with excitement he laughs it off.

“Yeah, you sure are ossified.” He comments and returns to drinking.

“No, come on.” I stand up, a light buzz running through me as we make our way through the crowd and I approached the sax player. “How’re you doing handsome?” Working with what I’ve got Dan stands behind me, allowing me to take lead. The saxist glances down, clearly eyeing my attire I turn to face Dan. “We’re dancing, right now.” Taking his hands we begin to move, him with less ease but I focus on the saxist.

“What’re you after toots?” I move closer to the stage until we are next to it.

Pushing my hair out of my face I twirl one of the ends, “My friend here is a singer. And I’ve noticed your lacking one tonight. Come on, give him a chance?” I bat my eyes to him, knowing it’s one way to swoon a fella.

He rubs his lips together and Dan remains silent. The saxist turns around and Dan holds my waist, spinning me into him and I rest my hands on his chest. “What’re you doing? I can’t perform in front of all these people.” I can hear the fear mixed with the haziness.

“All they want is something to dance to, they’re not gonna focus on you that much. Everything’ll be jake.” I try to convince him, but worry swarms his blue eyes.

“Miss?” Glancing up the saxist motions to the mic. “Ready for ’im.” I face Dan and give a supportive smile.

“You got this.” I tell him, and I can see a spark grow from eye to eye.

The music continues to play and he tightens his grip on my waist, bringing me closer. He lightly kisses me before walking away onto the stage, standing in front of the mic with his eyes up, focusing on the entrance.

I laugh at what has just happened but remain slightly stunned. Touching my lips I can feel the roughness of a dockyard worker, the lust and desire he held in his kiss. He exchanges a few words with the musicians, and they begin to play another upbeat song. His hands grip the mic stand and he begins to move his feet. Around us everyone continues to dance, no one completely aware of the vacant spot being filled.

My eyes remain on him, and he glances down with a smirk on his face as he begins to sing. In that moment, it all comes to life. The entire room is ecstatic with life like a wildfire as the dancing becomes more excitable, the music has more thrill to it and I even see those in the booths nod to the stage.

As I dance along I feel a tug on my arm, and I start to be pulled out of the crowd and away from Dan. I watch his eyes follow but he can’t stop singing now, it’s his chance. Pulling away I see my brother and sigh loudly. “Really, now?!” I groan angrily to him and try to release his grip on my arm. “I know the guy on stage, I was getting along with him.”

My brother half laughs, “I know what getting along is with you. You think I’m going to allow that under my nose tonight?”

“It weren’t like that tonight!” Walking up the stairs we exit the club, the bitter chill hanging outside as I can feel the life draining from the music the further away we get.

Standing still with my arms crossed he begins to smoke, “Wanna gasper?” I shake my head as he continues to smoke and I simply pay attention to the music in the background. “I know you think I’m being harsh,” I scoff at his comment, but he continues needlessly. “but to him, I know you’re just a Sheba. You’ll have your fun tonight and then he’ll go back to his home in some alleyway an’ never see you again.” He takes a long puff and blows it to the left of us, “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

“No.” I state and he removes his gasper from his lips. “You aren’t. I’m not a little girl anymore you can boss around. If I met some egg and introduced you, I bet you’d be happy. But because I met some fella who works in the docks and has dreams I’m not allowed to see him?” He remains silent, and I begin to walk away.

My brother angrily calls my name, “Don’t you walk away from me!” He yells and I stop.

Turning to face him he throws the fag on the ground, crunching it beneath his foot. “Dan has more of a personality, a sense of humour and bigger dreams than any egg I could meet. Earlier I danced with one and he was lifeless like a dewdropper so stop being a wurp and let me have fun.”

He sighs in defeat and I turn around. As I lift my eyes Dan stands there, the music continuing to play inside but he’s here. “So, I’m better than some egg, eh?” A smile forms on his face as he keeps his hands in his pockets, his sleeves now rolled up exposing more dirt on his arms.

Walking towards him I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, this time I can taste the whiskey on his lips and savour it. Pulling away I smile, “Now we’re even. And you owe me a dance.”

He takes my hand in his and we head back down the stairs, back to where the life and fun are held. The music returns to my ears happily along with the warmth and excitement of tonight.

5 notes · View notes

peaky-yamyam · 7 years

Text

Twenty-One: Part Fifteen (the second bit)

Part One | Part Fifteen (the first bit) | Part Fifteen (the second bit) | Part Sixteen |

Florrie

Here goes.

I take a deep breath and imagine Emilia, stoney faced and miserable sat in her office as she watches the renovation works take place, I remember the promise I made to her that I had a plan, how happy I know she could be if this all works out, and I conjure back the confidence that so often lands me in trouble.

“I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t give up on her,” I open with. I can tell when Alfie stills that that wasn’t the direction he was expecting the conversation to go and I smile. “She’s really beating herself up about Saturday, but she’s too polite to call you or come see you-”

“Unlike you.”

“Unlike me yes, but if you called her I know she’d speak to you.”

“Florence, I know that she’ll have told you what happened, probably a few seconds after I left the club on Saturday, am I right?”

“Yes...”

“So you understand then, that it weren’t me who said anything. If she wants to speak to me then she will.” He glances up at me and registers the fact that I’m not moving. “But I’m sure you’ve got a little speech prepared ain’t you? One that you’re adamant I’m going to hear before you leave, yeah?”

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s a little speech…”

“Best get started then love, I’m a busy man,” he prompts, although he turns his attention back to the book.

“Okay. Right, well… She’s my best friend, in fact, she’s more than that, she’s like a sister to me and I know her. I know what she’s like more than she does sometimes and she’s just scared. I understand that she’s blowing hot and cold but I promise you she’s not just some hotsy-totsy who’s trying to keep you on your toes, she just honestly has no idea what she’s doing and because she can’t write this out in her little book and solve it, she’s panicked. You know about her brothers?” I figure I should throw a question in there just to make sure he’s listening.

“I do yes,” he replies, finally tearing his eyes away from the book for more than a second.

“Did you know they were close?”

“I did assume from the way she spoke about them, yes.”

“Right well, in the space of eighteen months she lost all four of them and a few months later when the war ended her mum and dad couldn’t cope at all. I know she likes to make out that she got this job because she wanted independence, but I’m not stupid - I know how difficult it is to survive on savings - and at least my mum and I had my father’s pension and one less mouth to feed - she got this job because her and her family were desperate.”

Alfie’s propped his elbow on his leg and is rolling his finger rhythmically over his thumb. There’s something in his eyes though that tells me knew all this already and a pang of jealousy stabs at my chest at the thought of Emilia sharing this all with him and not me.

I ignore it. That’s something to deal with later.

“As much as I appreciate the history lesson, how does this have anything to do with what’s happening now?” Alfie asks, taking advantage of my distraction to butt in.

“Because that’s the root of the problem ain’t it? Just because she can talk about her brothers and reminisce without getting upset doesn’t mean she’s over it, she’s just spent the last four years suppressing it all so she can carry her family through it. But now it’s coming back to bite her in her pretty little arse, because as soon as something happens that she can’t control, or plan for, or predict every tiny detail of, she casts a kitten and we get this fucking freak out.”

“And how have you come to know all this ey? I know I ain’t some expert on her, but she don’t particularly seem like the type of lass what is overly keen to share.”

“I told you, I know her. And I got her zozzled one night and outright asked her why she has to control everything. Then I spent the next three hours trying to calm her back down…” Alfie nods slowly, filing that piece of information away for a future date. “I just wanted you to understand a bit more about why she’s being the way she is and to ask you to give her a chance. She’s clever and funny and kind. Right? She’s loyal and kind hearted and a superb business woman with her head, mostly, screwed on and she’s fucking gorgeous, so just don’t give up on her… yet.”

Alfie swings his legs from the desk, sitting himself up straight and drops his glasses round his neck. I try not to giggle at the fact they’re on a chain.

A fucking chain!

He closes the book in his lap and very deliberately slides it onto the table so I catch the title printed down the spine: The Romance of Abelard and Heloise. It’s then that I notice the other books on his desk; a collection of Austen novels, Wuthering Heights, Les Miserables, all of the romantic shit Emilia endlessly tries to force on me.

I groan.

“Did Emilia tell you to read that?” I ask, pointing to the book.

Alfie picks it back up and rotates it over in his hand, “This? Yeah, we had a good old chat about it when we went out.”

“You were never planning on blowing this all off were you?” I say, lips pulled tight as he drops the book back down.

“Why would I? She’s clever and funny and kind and you’re right, she is fucking gorgeous, I’d be some kind of fool if I ran off with my tail between my legs now wouldn’t I? But I appreciate you confirming my suspicions.”

“You know, you could have started with that, saved us both a bit of time?”

“And where would be the fun in that?” he replies with a smirk.

“Right, well… I should be going, goodbye Alfie,” I say, pushing myself from the chair, unsure whether I’m glad of the outcome, irritated, or a bit of both.

“Shalom… Oh and Florence?” Alfie calls as I reach the door. “You’re involved now, in everything. Although I’m sure you realised that when you started shagging Ollie…”

“Oh shit,” I whisper, my stomach dropping as I realise Ollie is going to be so disappointed that his discreteness hasn’t been up to par.

“Yes… yes, neither of you are particularly subtle shall we say, not the most aware of your surroundings,” he teases scratching at his beard with one hand.

“Sorry Alfie,” I reply, but I can tell by his slight smile that he wasn’t hinting for an apology. “But don’t tell him or Emilia you know, please.”

“Just don’t you go corrupting him with your wanton ways, he’s only little.”

I raise an eyebrow and bite my lip, desperately trying to suppress the need to make a joke about Ollie’s dick.

“Well, I don’t think I can make you any promises about that Alfie.”

“Just get out my bakery woman,” he says with a smile, shooing me back towards the door. “And leave Ollie where he is, you hear me? Or we are going to fall out… Oh, and make sure Emilia actually brings the money from the tills on Saturday, yeah,” he adds, just as I’m about to twist the handle, “I’ve got a surprise for her.”

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #twenty one

305 notes · View notes