Tumgik
#allora✿works
allora1233 · 10 months
Text
ℍ𝕦𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℍ𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥
Tumblr media
genre: comfort - drabble
pairing: Viktor x Reader
wc: >1k
a/n: Fun fact about this fic: this is based on something my ex said to me, and I've never been the same since. Also, the pleasant smell of old books is called bibliosmia.
Tumblr media
The door creaks as you poke your head into the laboratory, sighing in relief as you see only Viktor standing in the room with a book in hand. You walk in and shut the door behind you before making a beeline for the lean man. He turns around and glances up, eyebrows raised as he was not expecting you to be the one that walked through the door. "Y/N, what brings you he-"
Before he can finish his sentence, you're standing in front of him with your face buried in his chest. Viktor looks down at you, his brows furrowed in confusion and worry. Slowly setting down his book and steadying himself against you to put his cane to the side, he wraps his arms around you. "What's wrong, my love?" You remain silent for a moment, simply wanting to take in Viktor's presence and forget about your day. Taking a deep breath in, your senses are flooded with his scent. It's always a pleasant mixture of coffee and old books, like a library with its own café. And not a Starbucks or some other big brand. An authentic café you can only find at this library.
Your arms float up and slowly wrap themselves around his waist. "Hey." Your voice comes out softer than you expected it to. "Hey. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not right now. I just want a hug." Viktor nods and holds you closer, his hand rubbing circles on your lower back. You close your eyes, humming at the feeling and melt into him. You adjusted yourself so your head was resting comfortably against his shoulder. A comfortable silence forms in the air as the minutes go by, only the sound of soft breathing from both of you is heard. Neither of you two move, perfectly content being in each other's arms.
Inhaling deeply once more, you slowly pull away from Viktor. But not all the way. You still wanted to feel him close. Your hands move up around his neck as his hands slide back and rest on your waist. When you look up at him, you're met with his gaze already staring down at you. "You know, you are the perfect hugging height."
You blink, not expecting that sentence to be what finally broke the silence. "Really?" He nods. "Mhmm. Your head rests nicely against my shoulder and my arms are long enough to hold you right. I am able to keep my balance with you without my cane. And you are just tall enough for me to do this." Viktor lowers his head just enough to give you a gentle peck on the forehead. You hum. "Yeah, but still too short to properly do this." You push yourself up to your tippy toes and pull him into a kiss that he glady returns. He leans back and smiles at you, an action you happily mirror. "Thank you Vik. I really don't know what I would do without you."
"And the same goes to you. You are my muse, you know?" Your gaze softens as your heart swells with love. How did you get so lucky? "I know." After another moment of pure sugar fluff, you help Viktor with whatever it was he was working on before you came in. You already forgot why you were so upset to begin with.
Tumblr media
600 notes · View notes
cherry-alive · 2 months
Text
We've been calling the alter this blog belongs to "C" online for a long time, because no names really seemed right for her. It didn't matter much that she didn't have a name; she almost never came to the front more than providing passive influence, she wasn't comfortable speaking to others or being spoken to much, and her first blog was a private one just for us.
But she's taking a much more active role these days, both in our system in daily life and online. So it seemed like it was time to find a name. We searched for a very long time, with little luck. Nothing felt right. But finally yesterday we found it.
Introducing: Allora! She was fronting earlier and wanted to write a post introducing herself, but gave me permission to write this much when it was clear she couldn't hold onto the front. She'll give a more detailed intro and probably make a pinned post soon, but for now we just wanted to share her name <3
11 notes · View notes
kagedbird · 5 months
Text
TESSDE AU (+ Lucia :]) (Lucia part 14)
Lyra + Davidicus: *step into the room. Lyra looks very straight faced with a twinkle of worry. Davidicus look worried but resolute*
Inigo: *closes the door behind them and leans against the wall next to the bed, just keeping watch*
Allora: *sat up in bed with pillows propping her up, rubbing her eye tiredly* Hello.
Lyra: Hello, dear. Are you... all right?
Allora: Exhausted, but when am I not? *chuckles*
Davidicus: Yes I am certain after all this mess, you would be. Please, may I start?
Allora: Sure.
Davidicus: I do most apologize for my commentary and overstepping. Lucien had tried to explain to us that it was still something rather new between the two of you, and yet we kept prodding. Not only that, but I am certain that things must be done differently in your world regarding such things, are they not?
Allora: *seesaws her hand* It used to be about that before populations boomed. Now it's a matter to the individuals rather than family, though it still happens. Often. *wrinkles her nose* And even if I were able to get pregnant, I wouldn't want to. To be honest, I'm terrified of pregnant bellies. They are... rather horrifying. And any amount of things could go wrong. But mostly, I was not born to have babies, as a lot of men from my world think I am, or the women all but demand you have to be a mother to be happy. I love Lucia, I'm so grateful to have her, but the others and I were fine on our own as well.
Davidicus: But of course! I would never intend to suggest such things. You are your own person, of great strength and valor. And I do regret bringing up the topic before you were clearly ready for it- if at all. Seeing Lucia... I got rather excited to see our little family expanding. She looked just like you and him, so I had thought...
Allora: *nods* We get it all the time. She loves it. He gets real shy about it, heh.
Davidicus: *smiles softly and sighs* ...I am grateful you are gracious enough to talk about this, and let us have a chance to talk things over. More than words can explain- and perhaps better than I can. If there is anything I can do for you more as an apology, please, simply say the word. Until then, I hope my words will suffice.
Allora: *nods, holding up a hand* Perhaps we wait before you begin, Lyra? Kaidan and Taliesin are likely waiting to burst in here.
Lyra: *lets a smile fall from her tight, worried mask, nodding* Of course.
Inigo: How much longer do you think?
Allora: Three.... two... one...
Kaidan + Taliesin: *open the door and walk in to see Allora grinning at them like a cheshire cat and Inigo snickering* ... *narrow their eyes and pout as they realize they were being predictable*
Kaidan: *casts the parents a stern glance before looking back to Allora* Everythin' a'right.
Allora: Mhm. Shoo. Lyra's up next, though I'm sure you know that.
Taliesin: *scoffs* Presuming us? Of eavesdropping?
Allora: Not a presumption. I know you.
Taliesin: *pouts, sighing* You never let me have any fun. *huffs and heads out Kaidan behind, grumbling about "cheeky dragonborns"*
Inigo: *checks that the door is fully closed and gives the others a thumbs up* Okay! Ready Mrs. Lyra?
Lyra: *stands at attention and nods* I am.
Allora: *nods* Go on...
5 notes · View notes
omarfor-orchestra · 2 years
Text
Sometimes I forget Lea will be on Sktag it's gonna be SO weird
2 notes · View notes
Note
Hi! Hope your doing well!
I wanted to know if I could do a request with David Rossi? He has a daughter who has a higher IQ than Reid (it’s like 190 or 200?) has following in her father‘s footsteps and is high up in the FBI like higher than Strauss and he calls her down for a favor because Strauss is bothering Aaron and the team so she’s cracks down on Strauss and stuff?
Tumblr media
David Rossi X Daughter Reader
Request: I wanted to know if I could do a request with David Rossi? He has a daughter who has a higher IQ than Reid (it’s like 190 or 200?) has following in her father‘s footsteps and is high up in the FBI like higher than Strauss and he calls her down for a favor because Strauss is bothering Aaron and the team so she’s cracks down on Strauss and stuff?
Third person pov...
Y/N Rossi was in her office in Quantico, she was in thr FBI, she had worked hard and was in a high position within it, Only being 18 she was making a good life of herself with an IQ of 200, it was a normal day she was in her office going over some files when she gets a call.
Wondering who was calling her she picks up. "Agent Rossi speaking" she answers, for work she uses 'Agent' as its easier. "Well hello Agent, this is your padre talking" come her Dad voice, this makes the adult laugh.
"papà non si era accorto che eri tu (1) "she laughs, the man chuckles lightly, she puts down her pen and spins around in her chair.
She looks out the window, her office being on one of the highest floors, a couple below the leader of the FBI. "allora perché chiami, c'è qualcosa che non va? (2) " she asks getting straight into business.
The man sighs wearly before answering
"It's Erin figlia (3) she going after Aaron and the tea. Again, can you do anything?" He askes, the man has just lost his wife a couple months ago.
Struass is pushing the man to leave the BAU, Y/N sighs once again Struass, the woman never knows when to shut up. "I'll see what I can do Papà (4) see you soom" she says, Rossi sighs he sounds less stressed out.
"Thank you piccolo" he says, Y/N sighs ans rubs her forehead looks like she's going to take a trip down to the BAUs floor tomorrow.
The next morning...
Strauss was taking over the case once again, the team gathered around the table, all with sullen looks as Struass looked around.
They were missing one person. "Has Agent Rossi not arrive yet?" She asks the silent room, even the evert rambling Spencer Reid didn't feel like talking to her.
Growing annoyed she goes to talk when a commotion starts in the bullpen, hearing it the team and Strauss stand up and walk out of the room, they are shocked to see Rossi standing with Agent Y/N F/N, one of the only Agents with ties to the chief of the Bureau.
"What is the meaning of this!" Exclaims Strauss, this made Y/N look at the woman, a glare on her young face. He the  looks at her Dad. "I guess that's Struass" he says, the man nods his head.
Y/N cracks her knuckles. "You know Struass if you paid more attention to ypur family than this family then maybe you wouldn't be hated as much" she says, this earns her gasps of shock from around the bullpen.
Struass opens her mouth to retort but the H/C girl is quick with more. "You better leave this team alone unless you want a certain fact of yours to come into conversation" Y/Ns ruthless.
Eventually Struass has enough andeaves the bullpen fuming with anger, Y/N smirks at the woman, She gets a smile of thanks from her Dad.
After everyone calms down Y/N gets to meet her Dad team. She looks at Hotch and waves. "Hello Uncle Aaron" she smiles.
The others stare at their boss in shock. "You know her!" Exclaims Derek and Emily, Hotch just gives them a look. "Of course he knows me !" Smiles Y/N.
Rossi soon saves the team from confusion, as he wraps an arm around his daughter pulling her in for a hug and kisses her forehead. "lavoro assolutamente meraviglioso, piccola, hai bruciato quella strega (5) "He says in Italian.
"What how do you know her!" Yells Penelope, the team stare at the two, wondering how close they were, looking at her Dad Y/N laughs.
"You haven't told them about me" she accuses making the old man blushes embarrassed.
Pulling away her him  Y/N straightens her suit of before talking, she looks around at the team smiling. "Nice to meet you all I'm Y/N Rossi, F/N is my Mothers last name, I use it so Papà and I are safe from people who wish to kill me or hurt him to get to me." She explains.
Everyone takes the nes well and welcomes Y/N into the family, they all thank her for what she did, Derek and Emily loving how she black mailed Struass into finally leaving them alone.
"It was no problem, Papà called about the old witch, of course I had to help him out"she says, Reid was surprised to meet someone who had a higher IQ than him but was happy when she actually listened to his ramblings about anything and could actually keep up with him.
As the day was coming to an end the team had gone home, apart from two,
Y/N and her Dad, the woman was waiting for him to finish up, once he was done the two walk to bus car.
"Thank you again piccolo, we couldn't of done it without you" he confessed. Y/n hugged the man, "it was nothing Papà, you can pay me back by cooking your famous pasta for dinner" she bargained.
This man the man laugh, of course as always she speaks with her stomache. "Pasta it is piccolo!" He announces making the girl laugh.
The end!
Italian translation
(1)
papà non si era accorto che eri tu - Dad didn't realize it was you
(2)
allora perché chiami, c'è qualcosa che non va? - so why are you calling, is there something wrong?
(3)
figlia - Daughter
(4)
Papà -Dad
(5)
lavoro assolutamente meraviglioso, piccola, hai bruciato quella strega -
Absolutely wonderful job, baby, you burned that witch
Hope you liked this oneshot! Sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes.
Request are open!
Word count : 1040
176 notes · View notes
sayitaliano · 11 months
Text
ALLORA is a very common interjection. Can be used as: “Allora... parlami di te” = “So... tell me about you” or “Farò come mi hai consigliato tu, allora” = “I’ll do as you suggested me, then” or “E allora hai ragione tu!” = “Ok then it’s you the one who is right!” when arguing.
Tumblr media
Allora is used also as an adverb of time, to talk about another age or in fixed expressions (related with time): - it translates as “in that moment”, “at the time” (back then), “for that time”. It might translates as “then” to speak about the future (or for specific past situations): Allora non c’erano le gonne corte = At the time there weren’t short skirts. Da allora in poi = from that moment on (fixed) Fino ad allora = until that moment/time (fixed) Per allora = for that time/era (works both for past and future: Per allora era/sarà un gran cambiamento = for that time it was/will be a huge change) Quando ti sarai fatto la mia esperienza, allora potrai parlare = when you’ll get the experience I have, then you’ll be allowed to speak. La vidi e allora le corsi incontro = I saw her and then/in that moment I ran to her
- can work as an adjective (fixed) or a conjunction (conclusive or exclamative/interrogative): L’allora presidente = The president back then (adj.) OR Il presidente di allora (in this case it can be used both ways) Allora non parlo più = I won’t talk anymore then Allora, che facciamo? = So, what do we do? E allora fallo! = Do it then!
- can be used in some expressions to stress the meaning/situations. It translates “at the moment” “in that moment”: fu allora che (mi arrabbiai) - it was in that moment that (I got angry) allora sì che (mi vidi perduto) - it was exactly in that moment that (I found myself lost)
Some more examples: La moda di oggi è diversa da quella di allora. = Modern fashion is quite different from the one of the time. Gli artigiani di allora = the artisans of the past
106 notes · View notes
yourangle-yuordevil · 3 months
Note
Salve!
Allora... first of all! I happened to recently meet and watch your work over on Deviant art, and after discovering you on Tumblr...
I couldn't help it and now I'm definitely gonna watch your work regarding the ineffible Husbands!
Sorry for the ramble but the way you draw them and have them interact makes me a sucker for them both xD
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm so happy to hear that you enjoy my Ineffable Husbands content! Here on Tumblr I post more things compared to DeviantArt, like sketches and spicy comics 😜
22 notes · View notes
alessatarg · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Sketch time! (I don't have the strength for full-fledged drawings)
Allora (in her own opinion) has never been a good person. She was always missing something or someone. However, there were always men who wanted to save her from loneliness (although she did not ask for it most often).
With Eric, their relationship did not work out immediately after they met. But he remained persistent (and rude, as we know), so there was only one thing left for Allora :D
However, before becoming a new version of yourself (literally. One day I will demonstrate this), she was married (though not too happily), and also worked as a leading engineer in the FAS, after Elisabet Sobeck left. Her knowledge and skills were useful on Sirius, and on Earth, thanks to them, she was able to escape from her "colleagues" from Odyssey.
P.s. I only recently learned about the ask function here. So only now I have opened it :,)
40 notes · View notes
renaiswriting · 7 months
Text
Baci di Luna (part 5)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol/Reader
Summary:
Saying I love you was never easy.
Having to say it in a language that wasn't yours was not easy either.
Imagine the struggle of that, and now add it to loving someone whose family thinks you're a monster.
It can't be easy at all.
Word count: +4.1k
Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of burning. (I think that's all.)
Previous | Baci di Luna masterlist | Next
Masterlist
Moon phases masterlist
Taglist: @sahhmochi @darkdayelixer @hipsdofangirl @ryusha-rose
If you wanna be tagged, please fill out the tag list form.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
"Noah, stop it already!"
 
Noah had been banging on the bathroom door for several minutes already, hurrying you to let him into the bathroom so he could take a bath, but you knew that more out of haste to perform some personal hygiene (because Noah had never been much of a baths' lover, no matter how short they were), he was looking for excuses to distract you from meeting Seungcheol.
 
Your younger brother was jealous, and although you would have usually found him adorable, he was starting to wear on your patience a bit.
 
"If you keep banging the door, I'll tell mom." You warned him. And this seemed to be somehow effective, because the banging on the door stopped for some time.
 
You tried your best to dry your hair with your towel, but it was still kind of wet.
 
You had put it on a high ponytail and your favorite pink lipstick.
 
"All yours." You told Noah once you stepped out of the bathroom, giving him a questionable look when you found him lying down on the floor.
Your mom was on the couch, knitting a new scarf for Arianna since she had lost hers in the move and had already made the whole house crazy by constantly wearing her scarves.
Your mom looked at you twice, the first had been a distracted glance while the second scanned you up and down, her brow furrowed.
"Dove vai vestito così?"
Until those moments you had avoided mentioning to him the plan to go out with Seungcheol because of this very questioning.
Your father, who had been more focused on taking inventory of the raw materials to make the various delicacies sold at the bakery, also looked up, one of his eyebrows raised. "Yeah, where are you supposed to go all dolled up like that? You're not supposed to work at the bakery today."
"I'm going to meet Seungcheol." You explained, trying to avoid sounding nervous, you didn't want them to suspect you liked the poor boy or anything, it would be all very awkward if Seungcheol came back to the bakery after that. Your father had always been known in the family for making jokes and hinting at the boyfriends and girlfriends his sons had had so far. He shrugged it off with a shrug of his shoulders. There was nothing to hide. You were going to get together with a friend. "You've already met him."
"Chi è Seungcheol? Non lo ricordo." Your mother asked , and you couldn't believe how she didn't remember Seungcheol considering how many times he had been to the bakery.
"Yes, I don't remember any Seungcheol either." Your father nodded his head, agreeing with his wife.
"He's tall, dark hair, big round eyes..."
"Quello del cornetto? Va bene, puoi andare ma porta Arianna con te."
You guessed that by now the Cornet boy had officially acquired the nickname Seungcheol.
 
"No! I can't bring Arianna with me; he's my friend. I want to be able to talk about things with him, but Arianna will get bored. Please, Dad?"
 
Your father looked conflicted. "I don't know. What do you say?" he asked his wife directly. "(Y/n) is old enough not to need a chaperone, don't you think? Maybe we should trust her with this."
"Dove vi incontrate allora?"
 
"I don't know, we were just going to walk for a while; we didn't agree to go to a specific place."
 
"Va bene, ma torna a casa prima delle sette." Your mother agreed, her index finger pointing at you. And that was more than enough time, it was almost four and you weren't even sure you would have something to talk about for more than an hour.
And that was more than enough time; it was almost four, and you weren't even sure you would have something to talk about for more than an hour.
 
"Where are you going?" Arianna asked, entering the room where you were all wearing her pajamas, shorts, and barefoot. Her eyes looked over your figure, stopping when she realized something. "Those are my earrings! Take them off; I was planning to wear them today."
 
"Sure thing, it absolutely goes well with your outfit." You replied, rolling your eyes but taking them off anyway, giving them back to her before finding some others to use instead.
 
One of your parents must have told her what your plans were for that day because Arianna walked into your shared bedroom whining. "I wanna go too!"
 
"Well, next time, maybe. I told Seungcheol it would be just the two of us today; I really want to make new friends here."
 
"If he's going to be your friend, then he has to get used to your family." She pointed it out, throwing herself on her bed, her legs resting against the cold wall. She had started doing this after and before every meal for some reason; apparently it was good for digestion or something like that.
 
"Well, yeah, but it would be rude to just show up there if he wasn't being told in advance. Why do you suddenly want to meet with him anyway? Does my little sister have a crush that I haven't caught on to?"
 
Arianna rolled her eyes and said, "None of that. But if you're going to where we went last time, I want to go there; they gave us food. It was delicious; I still want to punch myself because we didn't bring more."
You pick up your biggest pillow and throw it at her face, taking her by surprise. "Yah! That was not nice!"
"Be grateful for what they gave us; it was a nice thing for them to do. Don't act like a brat"
Ever since that night you went to Seungcheol and his friends' house, both you and Arianna had made a silent pact to never speak about it in front of any other member of your family unless you were looking for a punishment.
"And I don't think we're going there; we're probably just going to go on a walk or something like that, and I'll come back home. Next time, we can bring Noah to the lake and invite Seungcheol if you want."
"Sure," Arianna said, "bring Seungcheol for yourself and make me babysit Noah; at least bring someone of my interest too, would you?"
You raised your right eyebrow in her direction, looking at her with an expression that said, "I caught you lying to me."
 
"Like who?" You asked her, reaching for the ring your mom had given you to protect you.
 
"I don't know; the shorter one was pretty cute." Arianna replied with a shrug. Her hand was playing with her own hair, braiding it.
 
"And probably too old for you; why don't you try looking for some guy your age in town? I'm sure the butcher's son is a nice boy, and if you go out with him, we might get a good discount on fish." You joked.
 
"But I don't like him." Arianna protested.
 
"Well, then ask mom to introduce you to some of her friends' sons; I bet she would be thrilled."
 
Arianna complained a little bit more, but you ignored it as you made your way to the door, where someone was knocking.
Seungcheol was standing in front of the door, both of his hands in his pants pockets, and his feet were moving back and forth, resting all his weight on one foot at a time.
He was biting his lower lip, and when you opened the door, he looked like he was about to fix his hair.
 
"Hello," Seungcheol sighed with a small smile. His eyes traveled to how you were dressed that day before returning to your eyes. "You look really nice today."
 
"Thanks!" You replied with a big smile, looking over your shoulder when you heard footsteps coming your way. "We should probably get going before my brother finds a way to tag along."
 
Seungcheol's eyes moved behind your figure, and you realized a little bit too late that Noah had made his way to the front door before you could fly away. "If he wants to come, he can." Seungcheol whispered to you, sending you a reassuring smile.
 
"It's okay; he can come next time."
 
Seungcheol nodded. "One of our youngest probably might enjoy his company; he would love to have someone to play with."
 
You closed the door behind you as you both started walking. The day was pretty sunny, and it was really warm.
There was a gentle breeze that was caressing your skin and moving your hair gently out of your face.
 
"Oh no, just one sibling interested in your friends is enough." You joked, and just when you thought this would be just a comment to fill the silence, it seemed to catch Seungcheol's attention.
 
"Who's attention did my friends catch?" He asked with a teasing grin.
 
"My sister's; she swears she doesn't like them like that, but I'm pretty sure she would become as silent as a mouth if she's around them again."
Seungcheol laughed loudly, shaking his head. He looked quite relaxed, and his calmness was contagious, because suddenly all the nervousness you had felt while preparing was gone.
The path began to become more familiar as Seungcheol turned near Loco Thud's butcher shop. A large green wall opened up, leaving you in awe with each step you took closer to the forest.
 
No matter how much you saw it, the forest was still so beautiful that it seemed unreal.
 
"Where are we going?" you asked curiously, pausing for a few moments to watch a butterfly fly a short distance from your face.
 
"Are you hungry? I was thinking we could have a little picnic near the lake."
 
It hadn't been until that instant that you noticed the large backpack Seungcheol was carrying on his shoulders.
 
"I'm starving." You replied happily, touching your belly in anticipation of the food. "But you should have told me in advance; I would have brought some pastries from the bakery."
 
"No, it's on me. It was my idea. I managed to make Mingyu and Joshua bake these, though. So I bet they would taste delicious—probably not as good as the pastries your family sells, but I promise these will be good. I have tried them before."
"Trust me, I'm so hungry I could eat rocks." You joked.
 
Seungcheol made you walk to the spot where you both met each other the last time. There was a nice baby blue blanket on the floor and two tiny baby yellow pillows.
 
"When did you prepare this?" You asked, and it looked really pretty with the noise of the water running right next to your spot. The blanket was soft, and the pillow felt good under you.
 
"I bring these before going to your house. I wanted to ask Jeonghan and Joshua to help me, but they were busy. I got to steal Jeonghan's blanket though, so let's try to not demage it with food." He nervously laughed.
 
"No problem." You reassured him, stretching your legs and taking a deep breath of the fresh air.
 
Seungcheol opened his backpack, taking out from inside some orange juice, two cups, and a bunch of pastries. You couldn't help yourself but take a bite of one of the big, thin chocolate cookies; they were as big as your face.
Your eyes widened in amazement as a chocolate sparkle invaded your taste buds. The dough was so sweet, you felt like you could shiver with happiness.
 
Your hand scooped out some crumbs that had landed on your chin and clothes, covering your mouth as you continued to munch on the cookie. "It's so good!"
 
Seungcheol took a cookie identical to yours, devouring it in seconds. He nodded his head in approval, copying your hand position by hiding his own mouth behind it.
 
"These are Mingyu's; I always ask him to make this for my birthday because of how tasty they are."
 
"What did you promise him in exchange for these?" You asked him, laughing, "My siblings would make me pay them or do their chores for a whole month if I asked them to bake cookies for me."
Seungcheol laughed nervously. He had no idea how to tell you that he had promised Mingyu that he would take his nightly rounds if Mingyu accepted to bake stuff for his little date with you.
 
"I said I would do his laundry for a month." He replied instead. "Joshua was nicer; he asked me to do his bed instead for a week."
 
"You're the older one, aren't you?" You asked, nodding alongside Seungcheol when he confirmed it. "That's the blessing and the curse of the oldest; we can order around the house, but once they start growing up, they stop doing what we ask for if it isn't exchanged for a favor later." You laughed.
 
"Are you much older than your siblings?" Seungcheol asked and looked genuinely interested.
"Well, I'm three years older than Arianna and seven years older than Noah."
 
"You guys have such unique names," Seungcheol complimented. "I don't think I've ever heard someone with those names in town. I like them."
 
"Wait till you hear Noah's full name." You chuckled. "He's named after my mom's dying brother; apparently he asked her to name Noah after him. He's Noah Giovanni."
 
Seungcheol lay down on the blanket, his head on top of the small pillow, while his hands were comfortably crossed on his stomach.
 
"Two names? That's not usually the norm here."
 
"It isn't here. I had multiple friends and family members that had more than one name; some even had around three  names."You told him, lying down just like he was, enjoying the way the leaves on the trees were moving with the breeze, and sometimes some sunlight would make a quick appearance here and there.
Seungcheol's eyes were already on you when you turned to the side to see him more comfortably. He sent you a small smile when you both made eye contact.
"What about you? What's your other name?" Seungcheol's arm was under his face, his elbow pointing at you. He offered some orange juice that you accepted happily, sitting for some instants to take a sip of it. Your eyes moved to the water, and you were tempted to take some rocks and throw them in the water.
 
"I don't have any; the only one that has one is my brother." You mumbled, "But my mom told me once that if she could give me a second name, it would have been Isabella."
"You don't have a middle name, do you?" You asked him after some seconds of complete silence.
"No, but why don't you give me one?" He asked, moving forward to get some pancakes that he had told you beforehand had been made by Joshua. He had brought some honey, sugar, and butter to put on it.
"Me?" You asked with a chuckle. "I'm sad to inform you that my naming skills are not that good. I called a bunny pet that we had for a little bit of jumping because it jumped around a lot, and that's on my list of top-named objects and animals."
"Good thing to know that I'm not an object, then," he laughed. "Go ahead; if it's terrible, then the name would never leave this place."
"Seungcheol Oliver." You announced it proudly. It was the name of one of your childhood plushies that you sadly lost years ago in one of your family's moves to a new house.
"Oliver?" Seungcheol chuckled, nodding his head, satisfied. "Alright, I like it."
You took a bite of one of the brownies that were carefully placed on a plate, taking another sip of the orange juice. "Today's such a beautiful day." You sighed happily, closing your eyes when some breeze touched your face, moving your hair out of your face and out of your shoulders. Thankfully, it was already dry, and some of your curls have finally started to form in your wavy hair.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it." Seungcheol replied happily, and you could swear you had heard a purr coming from somewhere. "How do you say that in Italian?"
"Oggi è una bellissima giornata." You told him slowly so he could catch the pronunciation of each word. He copied the sound as closely as possible, but his tickling accent made it a little bit funny to hear. You guessed that was probably how you sounded speaking in Korean as well.
"I wish I could speak Italian as well; it sounds so beautiful." Seungcheol sighed.
"But you do speak more than one language." You encouraged him, "Don't you?"
"I understand a little bit of English because one of my brothers speaks English, and I can introduce myself in Chinese as well. I can name random objects too, like doors or water."
"Teach me how to say Hello, my name's Seungcheol. I feel bad whenever I go to your family's bakery and your mom's the one attending it because I just can't say anything to her."
"Wouldn't it be easier if I told you how to ask for what you want to buy instead? I'm pretty sure my mom will know your name by now." You told him, trying not to laugh as you remembered what had happened earlier in your house.
"One thing at a time," he told you. Instead, his eyes were looking at you with such sparkle that you felt something warm run throughout your body, making you smile without realizing it.
And so you continued the rest of the afternoon eating and talking. Seungcheol seemed to try to memorize every Italian word that came out of your mouth with great effort, and sometimes, when he thought you were distracted by throwing crumbs of homemade bread to the small fish swimming near where you were in the lake, you heard him practicing in whispers the pronunciation of those words.
 
"It's getting late," you yawned. You had no sign of trying to stand up because you really didn't want the afternoon to end.
"Do you have to go home already?" Seungcheol asked, his face not making the slightest attempt to hide the disappointment behind his face.
 
"Yes," you sighed, just as sad as Seungcheol. The afternoon had passed so quickly that you were surprised as the sun began to set to give way to night. Time seemed to have flown by in the blink of an eye, and what had left you most pleased was that you had felt so comfortable around him. "My mom will scold me if I don't come back now. This Sunday, she won't let me eat the lasagna she's been anticipating for us since last week." You smiled at him.
 
Seungcheol nodded, understanding. "I'll walk you home, then. It's getting late, and it can be quite dangerous to walk at this time alone. Come on." He was standing up, his palm facing you, as he was waiting for you to take it and stand up as well.
His skin felt a little rough to the touch; there were some calluses on it, and a cut you had just noticed was still healing. A soft layer of pinker skin covered it. It was much warmer than your icy hands, and the warmth spread through the rest of your body, especially on your rosy cheeks, as I let him hold yours firmly.
 
A hiss interrupted the moment as Seungcheol let go of your hand with a great leap backwards. The movement had been so sudden that it made you stagger, landing you on your buttocks.
 
"Cavolo!" You swallowed your cry of pain, biting your lower lip, as your hands shot up in his direction, your knees digging into Jeonghan's blanket. "Are you okay?" You asked worriedly, your voice rising a little higher than you had intended. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to touch your wound; is it bleeding? Are you in a lot of pain?"
 
You felt incredibly embarrassed and guilty about what had happened. Seungcheol had been an angel to you, and you had only returned a wound.
Seungcheol kept his hand clenched with his other hand; his knuckles had turned white from the force he was using to put pressure on the wound. The muscle in his arm was strained, and some of his veins had been marked on his wrist.
Seungcheol was bent forward, snarling slightly.
"I'm fine." He replied that his voice had become a mixture of a whisper and a growl.
"Are you sure? Let me see! God, I'm so sorry," you continued, standing up and approaching him. Seungcheol turned the other way, preventing you from seeing his palm.
"Yeah! It doesn't hurt that much; don't worry." He breathed out, his eyes were closed into two lines, and his lip was being attacked by his upper teeth.
"Well, it doesn't seem like that; don't be stubborn and let me see!" Your hand pushed Seungcheol with all your strength, attempting to turn him around, but it didn't phase him at all. "Seungcheol." You insisted.
He turned around, checking how much it hurt when he started applying less and less pressure to it.
His hand was so red you would have thought he had put it straight into the fire; his burns looked third-degree, and there were already distinct blisters around a perfect circle on the inside of it.
 
The circle was a perfect copy of your silver ring.
 
"Che cazzo?! I think you should put your hand in the water. Doesn't it burn?"
"No, no, that's it. It hardly hurts anymore; we should go back; you should be home before your mother scolds you."
Seungcheol put all the things in his backpack, biting his tongue when some things brushed against the wound on his hand. Luckily, to ease some of the guilt you felt, he allowed you to help him put it away.
Seungcheol escorted you home as promised, and before you went inside, he grabbed you by the wrist with the hand that was still intact.
"Thank you for agreeing to hang out today; I had a great time with you."
"I had a great time as well; it was really fun! I'm sorry again for hurting you." You mumbled, moving your feet and avoiding his eyes. "But I promise I'll make sure to bring some pastries the next time as an I'm sorry present."
"Next time?" Seungcheol replied with a big smile, and his fingers softly brushed away some hair that was brushing against your eyes.
"Well yeah, if you want to. But I might have to warn you; my siblings will come as well." You joked.
"I'll bring some of my friends as well, then. I bet our youngest will want to make friends."
The door suddenly opened, and a woman slightly taller than you was standing up with both of her hands on her hips, looking at you angrily.
"Dove diavolo eri? è passato il tempo in cui ti dicevo di tornare! Perché sei andato nella foresta quando ci sono state così tante voci su lupi mannari e bestie pericolose?"
You had no idea how I had discovered that you had been in the woods without one of your siblings ratting you out, but none of them knew (at least as far as you knew) where they were going to meet; not even you knew where they were going until they arrived at the picnic already arranged.
You felt a little embarrassed with your mother mentioning the supposed werewolf in front of Seungcheol, but looking at him for a few seconds, he seemed to be as lost as you were.
"Should I apologize?" Seungcheol asked you; his eyes were wide open, and suddenly his posture was perfect.
"No, I think you'd better leave. We can arrange our next friend's outing these days; come to the bakery anytime you want. I still owe you a treat as an apology."
Seungcheol said goodbye to you with a smile, and in a few minutes he was already disappearing through the forest.
The pain in his chest began to increase proportionally as he moved farther away from you.
But he tried to omit it; he had been with you for hours, and by now that should be enough for his wolf.
We'll see you the next day.
The burn on his hand still burned, and he just wanted to get home so someone could treat the wound. He had been such an idiot; he should have paid more attention to your silver accessories. Who else if he didn't want to end up dead before he confessed to you that he was a werewolf and that you were his mate?
Seungcheol came home with a contented vibration in his chest.
It had been a good day.
39 notes · View notes
allora1233 · 11 months
Text
𝕋𝕠𝕡 𝕊𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗
Tumblr media
genre: fluff - drabble
pairing: Viktor x Reader
wc: >1k
a/n: I'm back! And it's about time I wrote something for my man, even if it is a drabble. I love Viktor so much, expect more in the future. Not proofread
Tumblr media
Viktor sighs as he tries and fails to grab a book from the top shelf over the lab desk. You could practically hear him mentally cursing out Jayce for putting it all the way up there. Stifling a giggle, you decided to help the poor man out. Standing up from Jayce's swivel seat, you walk over to him. "You need a hand?" Viktor glances at you from over his shoulder, a soft chuckle escaping him. "No offense, but if I cannot reach this, then you definitely will not be able to."
You know he's right, you did stand at shoulder high for him after all. But that doesn't stop you from putting a hand on your chest and feigning offense. "Well, I'll have you know that living by myself for a long while now has helped me learn how to reach top shelves. Especially since I throw stuff up that high assuming it'll be future me's problem, and then it is future me's problem." Viktor raises an eyebrow and smiles, stepping aside and motioning his hand for you to go ahead. You take a step closer, look down at the desk and back up to the shelf.
Carefully moving stuff over to the next station and clearing the desk space, you lift your legs up and kneel up onto the desk, giving yourself enough height to reach the top shelf. Viktor looks up at you a little panicked. "Please be careful. I do not want you getting hurt-" "Trust me Vik, I've been doing this for years, even when I was little. It's practically impossible for me to fall like this." You cut him off as you grab the book and hand it to him. He sighs and smiles gratefully as he takes the book and holds it under his arm. "Thank you." You sit down on the desk, turning your body to face him. "No problem. Just don't kill Jayce later over this." He pats your head before walking over to his station, opening the book and scanning through the pages. "No promises."
Tumblr media
260 notes · View notes
bemyawakening · 1 year
Text
HAYLOFT; chapter one
fandom: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Original Female Character short summary: Marzia Moretti, known as Siren, is one of the secret agents of the CIA, meant to deal with missions quietly and gather information. Not only did she work on her biggest mission for seven years, digging for information about the Sicilian Mafia which was running the most secretive human trafficking business, but she also did this to get revenge. Recently, she gets assigned to Task Force 141 in order to finish the mission once and for all.
translations of Italian can be found at the end word count: 3076 credits to the gif owner
warnings: strong language, descriptive violence and gore, 18+
Tumblr media
The male gaze has affected the movie industry far too much, in her opinion. Jumping and squatting down in tight jumpsuits was uncomfortable, loose hair in a fight most likely would give you the disadvantage and not the opponent, and the seducing part? Lord…
            Her job was to seduce and kill and she mostly worked with a psychology based on men and women. Bringing back their survival instincts was the most important if she needed to wrap someone’s head around her. It was about showing enough cleavage to peak interest and not look suspicious and it was all about the way you present yourself.
            And she already had her target in sight.
            Well, the target was sitting on the chair, tied up not in the way he expected with a towel stuffed in the mouth so that he wouldn’t scream and be heard. It took her about ten minutes to interest him by the bar with the help of the pheromones that she got from the CIA, which were working fucking wonders and the man was glad to bring her back to his hotel room.
            So infatuated, he completely ignored that her Italian accent slightly slipped out while catching him, that she was slightly nervous, but that only proves that the rational mind will always lose against senses.
            “Allora,” Siren exhaled, placing herself on the table that was right in front of where the man was sitting. He was panicking, he wasn’t whimpering like a dog and begging for mercy – he was a fighter, only a really stupid one. “I know you won’t tell me where he is, since you all are sworn to protect his identity, but I’d like you to answer some questions about yourself.”
            The only reason she wasn’t speaking Italian was that Laswell was listening to that conversation in the earpiece since Laswell has openly refused to learn Italian since it was far too complicated and fast-paced.
            Siren could see that if the man would be without the towel in his mouth, he would be smirking and not screaming. That’s why she grasped the other end of the towel and pushed it out of his mouth, receiving a whine from him.
            “Testa di minchia!” The man groaned out and it only made her chuckle.
            “Just a few minutes ago you were calling me amore mia, what happened, huh?” The smile on her face was humiliating him since she knew how much men loathed to see women being better than them. She knew that with his eyes he was strangling the poor soul out of her body, but knowing in which business he is involved, he would much rather sell her for someone to humiliate her until her body can’t take it.
            The man in front of her was involved in the biggest human trafficking business in Europe and South America. All they knew, was that a Sicilian gang or mafia as they call themselves, named Torro were deeply involved in this. Their connections and little traces were splattered all around the world and the CIA was following all of them without any visible ending.
            Torro was playing with them and they were doing it precisely. Every day that was lost meant a woman or two kidnapped in half of the world. They were choosing their targets carefully, not wanting to strike chaos and too much attention on themselves, but by the information that the CIA has gathered the number of abducted women from ages 14 to 35 could be over thousands.
            Their boss was unknown going by the name of Luca Torro. The name was fake, he was basically non-existent. All of the captured members of the gang, just like the man in front of her didn’t utter a single word about him, taking a bullet into their brain was met with more love than saying who it was. It was admirable, really, she knew well that all of the mafias had little rituals and games that brainwashed their members.
            The man sat silently in front of her, smirking at her, watching the slit of her dress that revealed her bare thigh. The pheromones were still raging a war inside him with hormones, and she was barely close to him. She didn’t even know what was in that stuff that the CIA gave her and why it worked so well, but it definitely wasn’t one of those shitty perfume bottles from eBay, who claimed it was going to make men crazy about you.
            “Where are you from?” She asked, slightly twisting the towel in her hands while watching him.
            “Di Italia,” he replied, unbothered that she can inflict pain on him anytime, but she wasn’t even planning to.
            Knowing that Laswell will start complaining, she sighed, “In English, my love. Be a good boy and I’ll let you run off to your boss with your nose intact to your face.”
            “Look at you,” he scoffed, watching her as if she was a disgrace. “Working for the CIA like their little lap dog. With a face like yours, you could be doing so much more.” His accent was heavy, not trained like hers and it was making her slightly chuckle.
            Straightening her back, she gazed at the covered window before flicking her eyes back on him: “Dai,” she smirked, her breath getting stuck in her throat for a second, “do you seriously think a compliment will get me running to your boss and asking for his mercy so he could throat fuck me every night?” She shook her head, their brown eyes meeting together. “You think I’m an idiot?”
            “Yes,” he answered, the tanned skin of his was almost glowing in the dimmed light. “You’re an idiot for chasing us in the first place. How long have you been after us, huh?”
            “Hit him, Siren, he has gotten too cocky,” Laswell’s voice in her ear made her slightly roll her eyes.
            Violence didn’t mean shit to these guys and she wasn’t really an expert on torturing someone like some Special Forces. Her job was to seduce and kill, trying to get the information out. She didn’t have the time to leave him here for days until he pisses himself with a swollen face from her punches, begging for her to just kill him already.
            She got bits and pieces of information from their behaviour and their answers. How? By realising that all of the assholes with their ego through the roof had many flaws they were unaware of. The use of pheromones slightly took their guard down enough for them to relax and her calm tactic of interrogating would make them slip a word or two, unimportant to them, but valuable to her.
            It did take her long to catch all of these trails left by the Torro and it was a sensitive topic to her. But showing your enemy that you are flustered was the worst thing you could do. At this point, you should retire and get back to normal life. She wished.
            “When did you get accepted into the mafia?” She asked, ignoring the order of the Laswell.
            “Always been one,” he replied, nudging his head down, his nostrils flaring – he could still smell her on his clothes.
            It was always the same answer, whenever she interrogated them. Where are you from? Di Italia. When did you get accepted into the mafia? Always been one. What’s your favourite food? My mother’s lasagne. Where’s your mother? Dead. Always had the same answers and she knew them by heart, yet she was still hopefully going one after another, getting a small lead, getting stuck in the same circle.
            “Your interrogation skills are stupid,” he cocked his head to the side and now she wanted to hit him. “I got nothing you need from me.”
            “Perhaps,” she hummed, leaning slightly forwards. “Or maybe I don’t work for the CIA and I just enjoy killing men after I get my fill watching them tied on the chair, bad-mouthing me.”
            That possibility seemed to shut him up for a few seconds before he grinned like an idiot. God, this Italian mafia was getting on her nerves and she was one step from closing herself in a psych ward in order to have some rest.
            “We know the CIA is on us,” he stated.
            “We are not hiding that,” she deadpanned. “It’s a shame he is such a coward not to go out in the open to talk with me.”
            “He has no business with you.”
            Siren’s eyes slightly squinted, “He forgot me?” Her voice raised in displeasure.
            The look on his face was worth taking a picture of. She finally kicked the confidence out of him and replaced it with confusion.
            “Chi sei?”
            Of course, they didn’t know who she is. No one lived the tale long enough to tell the others who was she. A clean slit on the throat or a bullet in the brain was all that met them. That kind of job could be put on many organisations and from all of them, there was quite a number who were doing the job as she did.
            “Where are you from in Italy?” Siren asked, not answering his question as it didn’t matter to her.
            “Calabria.”
            “That’s why your accent bothers me,” she scrunched her nose.
            “There are incoming cars to the hotel from the backside. They were expecting us,” Laswell’s voice informed her, but she didn’t budge one bit. She still had time.
            “Sent for your friends?” Siren asked.
            “He never leaves us completely alone,” he said softly, almost proudly and it made her sick to the stomach.
            Moving to him, she positioned herself on his lap, feeling the way his body tensed underneath her, his chest rising heavily. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she straddled him and kept the eye contact that was making him slowly go nuts. Simple eye contact could make people go crazy. Once they start turning their eyes away from you, it means you succeeded in making them feel nervous. One quality about humans that really fascinates her is that they always want to be on top of what’s going on.
            Yes, the Torros seemed to be trained like a bunch of puppies to give the same answers and be unbothered, dying for a better cause. But no person could be trained to stay in the dark because human curiosity always takes the bigger part.
            The second thing humans, especially horrible people despised, was when the other didn’t react to danger. It made them feel like they finally met their equal – another sociopath. Clearly, the tied man didn’t understand why she was wasting time sitting on his lap instead of killing him and running away before she will get caught.
            “Do you find me pretty?” She murmured, not too far from his face.
            “W-what?” He stuttered, taken aback, his pupils moving down from her eyes to her lips.
            “I asked you a question.
            “Bedda Matri,” he almost whimpered, his eyes moving even lower, reaching her collarbone. “Sì! Sì!”
            “You’d drink Chianti with me? Go to the beach with me? Solo – tu ed io,” she was so close to him, watching the way his pupils dilated, watching her as if she was the finest meal.
            “Yes, I’d go with you,” he nodded, almost like a lost puppy and she put a smile on her face, reaching down into the cleavage of hers that made him gasp for air. But with a swift move, she grasped the towel and stuffed it into his mouth as she grasped the little knife, stored in her cleavage and she slit his throat with a very precise move, moving away so the blood won’t get on her dress.
            “It’s done,” she replied, wiping the knife into the towel in his mouth as the blood kept on coming, his eyes frozen in spot, little choked sounds leaving his mouth. “Approximate time?”
            “Thirty seconds. You know where to go. Use the back entrance. There are two at the door outside. You know what to do. Over and out.”
            Laswell’s orders were clear and she took off her heels, holding them in her hand as she left the room, hearing the distant footsteps by the stairs, so she turned to the other direction, moving into the lift and pressing to the floor one below.
            It almost felt like a game to her at this point. The adrenaline rushing in her veins was slightly blurring her vision, but it helped her to go faster. Going out on the third floor, she walked to the door leading to the staircase, hearing the footsteps moving above her. It was her sign to go.
            Quietly opening and closing the door, she moved downstairs to the ground floor, opening the door where the laundry was kept and walking straight, not looking back once. The few people passing her wanted to show their anger with her presence, but she had no time to spare them. Moving into the kitchen, walking through the slightly sticky floor with her bare feet made her nose scrunch, but she quickly flowed through the white cloud of uniforms opening the back door.
            The two men quickly looked at her and as they reached for their pistols to interrogate her, but she threw her little knife at one man hitting him straight in his throat as she lunged for the other, stabbing the heel into his eye as she covered his mouth that he wouldn’t scream. What a good day to not be wearing platforms.
            The breath got stuck in her throat as she felt her back ache – those two men were huge. But luckily one of them fell right by the dumpster and the other one, she took the knife out of his throat, watching the way his muscles were still spasming, hitting him with a heel right at his temple so he could shut down quicker.
            The rough pavement under her feet was making her wince, but she grabbed the man’s legs and huffed out as she pushed him closer to the dumpster, making a mental note to herself that she should work out on her arms more because this was getting too hard for her.
            Taking out a few trash bags, she put them all over them and she placed her heels back on her feet, making her way away as if she wasn’t hiding a bloody knife in her palm.
            To her luck, it was already dark and around the hotel, there were too many little alleys for her to disappear into. As she was getting near the meetup point, about five hundred meters from the hotel where Laswell should pick her up, with her peripheral vision, she noticed a figure behind her.
            Fuck.
            Walking faster, she made a sharp turn to the right into a dead-end alley, she moved beside a dumpster, hiding her figure as she heard heavy footsteps. Sounded like military footwear and not the gang. What the fuck was going on? Her missions were not interrupted by the Special Forces. They had no right.
            As the footsteps came closer, she suddenly stood up and extended her knife to a man that raised his hands in defeat.
            “Jesus Christ, kid! Thought I’d be getting a hug, not a knife to my throat,” the man wheezed in surprise, but his face was content with her action.
            Siren’s lips curled into a smile and she rolled her eyes: “Dio mio, Price!” She slightly laughed, pulling the knife away. “The hell are you doing in here?”
            The woman wrapped her hands around his neck and they shared their warmth for a few seconds before moving away.
            “Laswell told me I’d find you here,” he admitted.
            “In the middle of a mission?”
            “She said you’re late,” he stated, slightly raising his hands in defeat.
            “I still have time,” she shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what the time was and that dragging that dead body to the dumpster took quite some time. “Don’t come up at me like that again,” she slightly pointed the knife at him.
            “Wanted to see if you still got it,” he admitted, his rough voice slightly playful.
            “Piss off,” she rolled her eyes at him, but the smile didn’t fade away. “You don’t see me if it’s not necessary. What’s going on?”
            “What about that football game?” Price disagreed, brushing his hand through his beard.
            “Manchester United versus Aston Villa?” Siren deadpanned. “No offence, John, but I couldn’t care less about England playing football. And even after that game, you told me you needed me for a mission. So what is it now? Are you taking me somewhere fancy?”
            “See right through me, kid. Where did the time go?” He mumbled.
            “Don’t get all sentimental on me.”
            “You up for Italian cuisine?”
            Her eyes lit up, only then realising that she was ravenous. “I’m choosing the place and you’re paying.” She turned away, slightly squinting her eyes: “And Laswell?”
            “She knows. Your evening is free.”
            “I’m all yours, John,” she hooked her hand through his elbow and he chuckled.
            The man chuckled as they made their way out of the dark alleys. “I got an offer.”
            “I’m on a mission.”
            The man walked silently for a bit, before speaking up: “We’ve been assigned to your mission.”
            Blood left her face and she stopped in her tracks before turning to him: “What?!”
            Price was already expecting this reaction, so he slightly shook his head: “Orders from above. They want us to take action.”
            “I’m not fucking ready yet—this… This took so long to prepare and I still need time!”
            “We got a lead from another source. We can finally put this down.”
            Staring at him, she almost felt betrayed that no one told her apart when the time came. Staying silent, trying to calm down and ignore how much time she has invested in this, she needed to know what information to have and if it was trustworthy. They couldn’t ruin this.
            “I need a fucking drink,” she mumbled, walking away from him.
            “I’ll take it as a yes.”
            “You are still buying it!”
            Price chuckled, “I thought it’d take you longer to convince.”
            If she wouldn’t say yes, she would be taken off the mission. That’s the least thing she would aim to do. Seven years working on his case in order to get even with them. Seven years in order to get revenge. She won’t give this up.
Translations: "Testa di minchia" - cunt in Italian "Allora" - well in Italian "Amore mia" - my love in Italian "Di Italia" - from Italy in Italian "Dai" - come on in Italian "Chi sei?" - who are you in Italian "Bedda Matri" - Oh my God/beautiful mother in Italian "Solo - tu ed io" - Alone - you and I in Italian "Dio mio" - oh my God in Italian
171 notes · View notes
sciatu · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Autoritratti dei pittori siciliani Daniele Schmidt, Pippo Rizzo, Gagliardo, Alfonso Amorelli, Bruno Caruso, Giuseppe Migneco, Lia Pasqualino Noto, Martinelli, Saro Mirabella, Ugo Attardi Verso l’inizio degli anni ’50, Salvatore Salvia De Stefano ebbe l’idea di collezionare gli autoritratti degli allora pittori viventi. Chiese aiuto ad amici galleristi e pittori per poter convincere i pittori che non conosceva a dipingere un loro autoritratto secondo il loro stile e la loro poetica. Il problema era che Salvia chiedeva questo autoritratto in un cartoncino di 15 per 18 centimetri di lato, quindi minuscolo e, per chi era abituato a grandi tele e opere ad ampio respiro, quasi limitativo. Non di meno, essendo un’opera minimale, la realizzazione degli autoritratti era sempre rimandata. Alla fine comunque Salvatore Salvia riuscì a raccogliere un buon numero di dipinti, ognuno ritratto umano ed artistico dell’autore. Una raccolta che passava da grandi pittori come Guttuso o Alliata a pittori minori ma pur sempre isolani nel tratto e nelle sembianze. Dove sia questa raccolta, non ve lo dire. Non appare in nessun museo o raccolta d’arte. C’è solo un piccolo libro che ne parla. Anche Salvatore Salvia è scomparso nel nulla tanto che neanche Wikipedia lo cita e di tutta la sua raccolta di “cose siciliane” non si sa più nulla. Alle volte l’amore non sopravvive a chi ama, anche se il soggetto di quest’amore immenso e totale, la Sicilia, resta è ancora madre di artisti e di grandi, sconosciuti, amanti dell’arte.
Self-portraits of the Sicilian painters Daniele Schmidt, Pippo Rizzo, Gagliardo, Alfonso Amorelli, Bruno Caruso, Giuseppe Migneco, Lia Pasqualino Noto, Martinelli, Saro Mirabella, Ugo Attardi Towards the beginning of the 1950s, Salvatore Salvia De Stefano had the idea of collecting the self-portraits of the then living Sicilian painters. He asked for help from gallery owner and painter friends to be able to convince painters he didn't know to paint a self-portrait of them according to their style and poetics. The problem was that Salvia asked for this self-portrait in a cardboard measuring 15 by 18 centimeters on each side, therefore tiny and, for those used to large canvases and wide-ranging works, almost restrictive. Nonetheless, being a minimal work, the creation of the self-portraits was always postponed. In the end, however, Salvatore Salvia managed to collect a good number of paintings, each a human and artistic portrait of the author. A collection that ranged from great painters such as Guttuso or Alliata to minor but still Sicilian painters in terms of style and appearance. Where this collection is, I won't tell you. It does not appear in any museum or art collection. There is only one small book that talks about it. Salvatore Salvia also disappeared into thin air, so much so that not even Wikipedia mentions him and nothing is known about his entire collection of "Sicilian things". Sometimes love does not survive those who love, even if the subject of this immense and total love, Sicily, still remains and is the mother of artists and great, unknown, art lovers.
13 notes · View notes
kagedbird · 11 months
Text
Continuation from this Kaidan: How in Oblivion did he get Folsterhan to laugh?! Bastard has never smiled at us once, save Inigo. Inigo: That was only because some of my fur made his nose tickle. Lucien: I mean, I don't think he'll be so pleased once he finds out about his past, but… *glances at Allora who made them swear to not bring it up* Allora: *giggling with Bren and Taliesin, stirring some food she's making for everyone* Kaidan: *grumpily huffs, getting up to check on the food in the oven for her* Whatever… Inigo: What do you think Mr. Bren likes about Taliesin, Lucien? Lucien: I didn't want to say it before but I think they're bonding over Kaidan being rude and making fun of him for it. Inigo: Hehe. Want to go join them? Lucien: Hm… do you think he's out of earshot? Inigo: He won't be for long. *hurries over to the other two, grinning* Would you two like to hear a story about Kaidan losing his pants once during training? Taliesin: Oh this I must hear. Do tell. Allora: *groans, covering her face* Nooo! Taliesin: Now I definitely need to hear it. Inigo: Hehe. Allora had been practicing with the bow with myself for a while. Lucien was training with Kaidan not too far away. Unfortunately, an Elk stopped by during the practice and startled Allora, making her move her bow last minute to avoid hitting it. It zipped past and just nicked Kaidan's trousers perfectly to make them fall to his ankles. Bren: *chuckles, nudging Allora's shoulder* Good one. Taliesin: *covers his eyes, laughing heavily* Oh gods, I wish I could have seen his face! How on Nirn did you not injure him? Allora: I don't know!! I'm glad I didn't- I would feel so bad! I all ready feel bad enough for basically pants-ing the guy! *whines, pulling up her hood to hide* Bren: Ah-ah. None of that. You're in my house. Hood off. Allora: *whines more* Bren! Bren: *gently pulls of her hood and taps her nose* He'll live. You'll live. I wish I could have been there. Allora: *grumbles, leaning into his hand as he fixes her hair* I'm lucky I know how to sew… Lucien: More like he's lucky, I think. Don't know if he would have been up to roaming around Skyrim without his pants. Allora: *huffs and refocuses on her cooking, trying to ignore the blush on her cheeks from embarrassment*
Bren: Didn't have any issues on the way up here, did you? With those Thalmor?
Allora: Erm… there was one instance, but Taliesin protected me. *gives him a small smile over her shoulder* But by the time we got your letter, and the Companions, we were rather close all ready. Nothing since. Bren: *glowers a bit, frowning* Hn. Allora: *rolls her eyes at the familiar sound* Yeah, yeah. You don't like that they're doing that. Guess you don't want to come to the dinner they're having tomorrow with me. Bren: You're going? Allora: *shrugs awkwardly* I mean, we made it in time, they've been keeping you protected and safe, took the time to send me letters… Taliesin: *glancing between Bren's increasing angry expression and Allora's uncomfortable body language* I'm afraid I don't know much about the details of why you're dissatisfied with the Companions, my good fellow, but if it's for her safety, I can promise you I will go to keep an eye on her. Bren: *raises an eyebrow at Taliesin, looking him up and down* Hm… Allora: I don't need a baby sitter. rolls her eyes They're friends. Bren: They're untrustworthy, is what they are. *turns to Taliesin, giving him a sharp stare* Any of them try to take her somewhere private, you bring her back here immediately. Taliesin: *bows his head* You have my word. Kaidan: *pokes his head out* Why the fuck don't you ever trust us with her? He's the only one that wasn't prophesized by the Gods to protect her. Bren: *glares at him* Maybe that's a good reason enough. Lucien: It's not as though the gods are talking to us, though… Inigo: *pats Lucien's shoulder* It is okay. We will just have to work harder.
12 notes · View notes
briar--rising · 1 month
Text
Many many things have been shifting internally in significant ways lately, and it's very interesting. The shifts all feel good, healthy, but strange as well. I'm nervous to say anything as big as "we have a new cohost" and/or "Allora and I are fusing" but um. Allora and I have been spending a lot of time not just cofronting but blended, she's been really really present in really interesting ways the last few weeks. It's honestly quite lovely, we've been working hard towards being able to integrate further with her for a year. But it's really strange because I've never experienced another part being so blended and so...prominent within that blend for such long periods. Hours and hours out of every day it's the two of us, not just cofronting but like, swirled together. And I think the things that's weird about it is in the past when that's happened with other alters it's been us blended, sure, but I've still been like...the primary presence in some ways? Like if I'm blue and another part is yellow the blended color is a strong bluish green, not a true green? Does that make sense? But with Allora she has a stronger presence/more influence when blended than me, and that's new and bizarre.
She was I think the host before me, though, decades ago, so maybe that makes sense that she has a much more...host-like vibe and role than any of the others have had? And being blended with her in the lead is lovely because she contains a lot of our capacity for joy and whimsy, and when she's around it's much easier to be happy and amazed and love life.
I like the pie metaphor for fusion. If we're all a blueberry pie, I think I'm the flour and she's the blueberries. All of us are important, we all make up parts of the whole, I'm not trying to say anyone doesn't matter. But I think many parts play slightly smaller roles within the whole, so they might be the lemon juice or the salt or whatever. And some have strong medium roles, like the butter and sugar. But I think she's the blueberries, the biggest part of the flavor. And that's fine with me. I think if we do fully fuse (and I think we're headed that way) in the end the person we'll end up being will be a mix of everyone, of course, but in some ways prominently her, and honestly? Not only are the rest of us okay with that, we want it.
Because she's happy, and kind, and feels so true to all of us and who we are at heart and who we want to be. It's amazing to have her around like this, to have her taking the lead. It feels so right. Very strange, but so right.
13 notes · View notes
lostaff · 19 days
Text
Ch-ch-changes
🌟 Novità
Abbiamo lanciato la beta chiusa delle Community (in EN) e molti di voi potranno scoprirla presto!
Quando ricevi molti Mi piace o reblog in un breve lasso di tempo, smetteremo di inviare notifiche push individuali, sostituendole con un riepilogo periodico. Stiamo lentamente implementando questa modifica per tutti gli utenti, e prevediamo di finire entro la settimana!
Se non vuoi che il tuo blog possa essere cercato su Tumblr, allora immaginiamo anche che tu non voglia che i tuoi post vengano consigliati ad altri utenti di Tumblr.
🛠 Correzioni
Non ci sono correzioni recenti da condividere oggi. 
🚧 In corso
Proprio così: il Centro assistenza ha cambiato faccia grazie ai nostri amici di WordPress.com! Ci vuole solo ancora un po' di pazienza per darci il tempo di sistemare qualche piccolo problema di formattazione.
🌱 In arrivo
Non ci sono lanci imminenti da annunciare oggi.
Hai riscontrato un problema? Invia una richiesta di supporto e ti risponderemo il prima possibile!
Vuoi condividere il tuo feedback su qualcosa? Dai un’occhiata al nostro blog Work in Progress e avvia una discussione con la community.
Vuoi supportare Tumblr con una donazione diretta? Scopri il nuovo badge Sostenitore in TumblrMart!
14 notes · View notes
girlsnout · 8 months
Text
please check out & preorder this book!! not only is it my first job as a professional editor but it’s also a KICKASS book!! it’s SO good and fun. a shapeshifting dragon prince navigating college life and supernatural politics?? with a nonbinary love interest and lots of technical information about the inner workings of public radio?? this is THE book of all time and i’m so, SO excited for it to release
21 notes · View notes