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aikoiya · 1 month

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Hello there, I love your post and I like your idea about Danny being affected by hamon but now not the time for dp x jjba and i have a long post idea that I would be understanding that it takes you days to research and post your idea.

Danny Phantom (phantom planet not happen in this au idea) x hunter: the parenting and by extension the world of darkness.

A few months before the event of Adorable Family Trip, the D family went to Amity Park for a month to visit one of Big-D ex, Jack Fenton, and while at Amity Park Kitten decided to look into Amity Park folklore. I want to know what 3 folklore that Amity Park has and what Kitten and Big-D thought about it, also bonus point if one of them is not about ghosts.

Also I have fun idea that the D family shenanigans while in Amity Park like Kitten learning about ecto ghost from Maddie ( who has extreme bias), Jack ( who is still learning about ecto ghost), and Big-D ( who usually keeps info until it's relevant), Marckus telling Danny and Dash about his experience with bully and tell them about how Brok Blacklaw eat Marckus book, gross Danny and Dash out, Door and Boy waiting in line at Nasty Burger for the meatiest burger for Boy and telling Jazz about his old 'mining day' unintentionally misled Jazz into thinking he was a miner and not a EOD specialist that he actually is, and Big-D and Jack have a journey and talk about why Big-D broke up with Jack as while Jack is good against ghost, he is not prepared for Big-D reckoning against the various supernatural.

Also for the funny Big-D know Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom when first met and didn't tell his family until on the plane back to Norfolk UK and his reasoning is that "it is obvious".

Holy cow! Honestly, I was confused for a bit. But the further down I got, the more I recognized. Like, Big-D was my first tip off, but it wasn’t until I read Markus, Door, & Boy that it clicked.

Now, I know what we’re talking about. I was afraid this was about Monster Hunter or Hunter x Hunter because I know practically nothing about either of those except dragons & that they are an absolute infestation in Monster Hunter.

You have no idea how lucky you are that my brother got me to watch the animated adaptation on YouTube or I would be completely lost! XD

So, congratulations, I can ramble about this subject!

However, I have only seen the animated adaptation up to Big-D's guide to avoiding arrest & am actually currently watching it as I type because I asked my brother a question about the show & he later said he'd rather watch more of it rather than continue with Lupin III. So, thanks for that. (Jk.)

Brok literally just appeared for the first time. His crew certainly seems to possess quite the motley assortment of very unfortunate faces, don't they?

But, yeah, I haven't seen any of the actual sessions, so my knowledge about how that world works is limited to that.

First off, I love, love, love all the supernatural lore in it. I was literally taking down notes.

Anyway, hmm… Well, I just looked at a list of Michigan cryptids & it talked about Michigan Mermen, though evidently, it's “bad luck to threaten one.” Though, the legend specifically says it's in Lake Superior. At the same time, the 2 lakes are connected by Whitefish Bay, so I wouldn't understand why they wouldn't also appear in Lake Michigan unless it was specifically inhabited by a predator of theirs. There's also apparently the Chicago Mothman, which according to a really cool map someone made from doing a bunch of research (Amity Park Location & Map), is most likely not even a full day's travel from Amity. Then there's the Lake Michigan Sea Serpent, which is, like, right there.

Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it lived in Lake Eerie. Maybe even just a short walk away from Amity itself.

Though, I do also have something a bit more benign that I made up myself. It's not really a creature. It's just a jukebox that plays creepily accurate music. → The Haunted Jukebox

It's really not much, but I figure that it'd be nice to investigate something that wouldn't try to do unspeakable things to them for once, ya know?

And I do have to say that I very much don't see Jack as the type who'd be into Big-D. In fact, I think the only dude that Jack might have a chance of being into is Vlad, who was never interested & will never be interested. And I don't even know if Jack would be aware of his own interest or if it's ever even crossed his mind.

However, I do have an alternate suggestion. What if Jack & Big-D… were brothers or cousins?

Now, I have a lot of thoughts on not only the Fenton Family’s lineage, but several others too, so here's a link so that I don't have to put it all here. → DP AU - Family Legacy

For that matter, I also hc that Warden Walker is Maddie's dad (but neither are aware). Seriously, go read Grandpappy Walker on Fanfiction.com. It’s an interesting read. However, it never finished. I have other hcs involving her family here, too. → The Walker Family

Now, moving on. This could absolutely work because my theories regarding both the Fenton family & Big-D actually align very well.

Mainly in that I hc that the Fentons are descended from a Lugat, thus making everyone descended from him dhampirs after a fashion.

Now, if we go this route, my suggestion is that Jack was the black sheep of the family… but Big-D was the bedazzled, feral sheep that kept biting everyone. Brilliant & the star of the Fenton family with a brain like a supernatural encyclopedia, but obviously has something very wrong in his head.

In my mind, Jack was never good at learning other languages (which was very important for research) or the apotropaic magics of his family because he could never really wrap his head around the mechanics of how it all worked, so he became frustrated with it all, called it a load of hooey & became determined to prove himself a hunter through the medium he did understand: SCIENCE!!!

And engineering. However, because he'd felt like an outcast due to being unable to understand the magical side of things, he'd begun to reject a lot of the old, tried & true hunter methods, relegating them to the domain of superstition even though a part of him knew that it was all true. He was bitter, okay?

Despite this, he's actually surprisingly honest with himself, considering how full of himself he can be. As such, if he's ever shown concrete evidence that he's wrong, he's actually very quick to adapt & accept that fact.

Then, promptly make amends.

Maddie, however, is ridiculously secular & stubborn. As such, she would be ridiculously difficult to convince regarding subjects involving the supernatural that couldn't be explained using science.

Interestingly, despite being so very different, Big-D was actually one of the only ones in their family who actually heard out Jack’s theories.

At the same time, though Big-D thought that the possibility of this “Ghost Zone” was, indeed, possible, he'd never thought that Jack would not only be able to reach it, consistently of all things, but then prove it!

Personally, I love it when experts of the supernatural are entirely blindsided by something that completely shatters their understanding of the world around them. Like, science is making new discoveries all the time. Why can't the supernatural hunter field also be doing the same?

I'm saying that I think it would be fun if the entirety of Big-D's knowledge of this new plane of existence completely consisted of whatever theories Jack had spoken to him about regarding it.

On the one hand, he's so ridiculously PROUD of Jackie-Boy!!

On the other, Big-D is absolutely shitting his short shorts as it slowly dawns on him the implications of all this.

I mean… this… this is the fucking trans-universal thanatonexus!! Literal proof of alternate & parallel universes!!!

The universe between universes & the moment between times!!!

….

Big-D needs to sit down before he passes out…

Which, my guy. I have a full freaking masterlist of hcs regarding how the Infinite Realms work, how it interacts with the Living Realms, how ectoplasm is made. As well as hcs about Clockwork & Nocturn. → DP Ghost Zone Masterlist

Clockwork - The Origin of Clockwork - Clockwork Through the Multiverse - Nocturn (My Style)

Peruse at your leisure.

Seriously, I might have a problem…

I mean, if you really think about it, how would Big-D know much of anything about ecto-ghosts? The only people shown to possess portals are the Fentons & Vlad & the only other portals are natural portals which open randomly & very rarely. Like, maybe he's heard stories about powerful beings that could fly & shoot lasers, but I don’t think he’d know anything truly concrete.

But I definitely think he's aware of Danny's time traveling shenanigans, though only from the perspective of having seen imagery of Phantom & Plasmius scattered through time. But not that it’s Danny & the mayor of Amity (at least initially).

Which, I honestly think that they'd legitimately despise each other. D & Vlad, that is.

Which, perhaps Big-D's actual reason for visiting could partially be because of that? Maybe he saw a picture in a supernatural tabloid about a little town in Illinois that was a tourist trap centering around ghosts? And the picture used was of one of Danny & Vlad's fights?

Maybe it was Kitten who was reading it & Big-D was just sort of sipping his drink at breakfast, was chatting with Kitten, & glanced down only to choke on his drink as he recognized the figures from one of the single greatest mysteries in all of hunter history. He gasps & wheezes rather comically as he tries to catch his breath. Kitten is concerned, but the second D caught his breath, he declared that they were headed to Amity Park to visit family.

The terrifying thing is that I actually think that the Fentons of Amity might be the most well-adjusted members of the current Fentons in the family… This realization haunts me…

Holy fudge, I think Jack would end up being the responsible & rational one between him & D…

Like, I can just see Jack looking D dead in the eye & telling him that drugs, psychedelics, alcohol any purer than near beer, & especially sacrifices were not allowed within 5 yards of the perimeter of Fenton Works & neither were D's sexual indiscretions.

If he brings that shit anywhere near his family, no one will find the pieces. And if he gets caught with that sort of thing here, then Jack's never met the man.

Like, the supernatural stuff is fine, whatever.

Typical Fenton clan brouhaha, but Jack raised a couple of wonderful, talented, genius kids.

(Even if Danny was having a rough time keeping his grades up at the moment, he could still reverse engineer any one of their inventions practically on autopilot & sometimes could even surpass Jack himself in terms of guerilla science & ingenuity, but that's not the point!)

His kids were brilliant & they don't do drugs or commit crimes or go out drinking, & he's not about to have one Bignaceous Ditryck T. Fenton walking in & screwing up the 2 (3 if they’ve adopted Ellie) most sane, well-adjusted children born into the Fenton clan in 5 generations just because he couldn't behave like an adult for a week! Like, he loves D, but “Seriously, D, you need serious help.”

Which would probably start a bit of a dismissive handwaving about how, of course, he’d never dream of it! But Jack just narrowed his eyes at the other man’s insane smile before sighing with a slump of his shoulders before letting them in reluctantly.

Anyway, I'd very much appreciate Amethyst Ocean to be a thing here. This is the DP ship that I've been shipping since I first watched the show. And it was made canon.

Of course, in the end, it's your choice. Not mine.

Also, keep in mind that if Phantom Planet isn't canon, then neither is A Glitch In Time. Just something to remember.

#danny phantom #dp #hunter the parenting

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nothorses · 11 months

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Thank you for saying that I honestly feel embarrassed because I have no friends right now after cutting off a toxic group and I'm working through my issues in therapy but I am still really self conscious at how many posts I see lately that are about red flags around having no friends and it's nice to know that not everyone feels that way.

I think it's fair to consider it a red flag, but like, red flags are never and should never be the hard line so many people seem to think they are. It's a red flag if someone has no friends, but so is, like, talking about exes negatively early on in a relationship. Or sharing too much about a traumatic event too early on. Or just certain phrasing around certain topics and questions.

All of that stuff can be genuine, honest, and completely benign!

I was lucky to escape my toxic friend group with one other person, and I'm lucky that I make connections relatively easily. But I did talk shit about them pretty frequently for a while; I was hurting and upset, and I struggled not to talk about it. I didn't have anything to gain from that, and I had the good sense to at least avoid letting the conversation go on for too long or steer into comforting-me territory, but like. It was a red flag, and I wouldn't fault anyone for thinking that. If anything, I prefer that they know what to look out for in order to stay safe.

Anyway, all of this to say: absolutely, and I also made that post in response to one saying that not having friends shouldn't be red flags. Because I think it should be- and I think it shouldn't be taken as an insult or bad-faith-reading if someone sees red flags in your behavior.

But if someone's treating every possible red flag as a reason to cut someone off, punish them, or pressure them to change generally benign behaviors- rather than something that might be innocent, and is worth looking into- that's a red flag. Certainly more of one than just Not Having Friends Right Now.

#I know thats not the most comforting response maybe #but I hope you know that if I saw the 'no friends' red flag and investigated to find that it's because #they recently escaped a bad situation and are just in the process of recovering #like. thats no longer a red flag.#the problem here is with how people talk and think about red flags. because it fucking sucks #and it hurts people like you who might get a red flag or two- but ultimately should be given the chance to demonstrate good intentions.

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lullabyes22-blog · 1 year

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Probably to “boost moral” or something (at this rate they don’t know what the fuck it wants) the new being controlling their world introduces itself, by ripping into their dreams and talking to them.

they learn that their new “overseer” is rather benign, or perhaps a better word would be indifferently amused. It’s not cruel but it’s not kind or even nice.

when it gives a name they feel like they’re mind is tearing in half like peeled orange. It’s so bad that the lucky ones awaken feeling as though their entire body is engulfed in fire, the ones not so lucky are bleeding out of every orifice on their face as well as feeling the burn, and the really unlucky ones are completely inverted.

anyway before they wake up and regret existence, they look upon the godling. They experience another pain not unlike one’s gets from looking directly at the sun. Except it’s accompanied by the feeling that their body is unwinding on a spool.

then the godling turns into a form, it’s appearance varies as it it’s taken on the shape or person that the dreamer finds most soothing. It’s message also changes depending on the person with the same purpose. To placate.

a) what form do different characters see when the being talks to them, and how do they react?

b) what does it tell them?

P.S. I hope your having fun with this I certainly am.

Hehehe I like how they keep being exposed to celestial/eldritch horrors in true Lovecraftian style XD

Silco: A sense of being at the bottom of the sea, staring up at the broken refraction of sunlight on the surface. Deep-sea fish float around him, and there's a sense of belonging and tranquility. The voice is what his childhood self used to imagine Janna's voice sounded like, with a tenor similar to his mother's.

It soothes him with one word he's made into both a weapon and a war-tactic, "Patience."

Jinx: She's at the arcade where her family used to hang out. Now it's a gigantic box of gearworks, all clamor and colorful chaos, and yet there's a sense of sublime order underlaying it all. Best of all, she's part of that order, the heart sparking the chaos. There are arms encircling her, and a warm voice like Vi's whispering in her ear.

"We'll always be together."

Sevika: She's alone somewhere warm and dark. The thought flashes in her mind that it's a dragon's belly, yet there's no horror in the fact. It's a gestative process that promises to birth something strong and wonderful. In this dream, she still has both her arms intact. They are being clasped by a pair of feminine hands that could be her sister's.

But the red eyes glowing in the gloom remind her of Silco.

"The price is paid," a whisper comes, "now you'll bask in your reward."

Vi: A childhood memory. Herself and Powder nestled together under blankets at bedtime. Powder has a sketch pad and is showing her schematics for a new toy. Except the schematics are gloriously intricate and contain, in Vi's dream-mind, the secrets to past loss and its erasure.

Powder's little voice murmurs instructions, "That's the way," pointing at the design, "you'll find us both again."

#asks #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #arcane sevika #arcane vi #arcane jinx #jinx #vi #sevika #silco #silco x reader #jinx x reader #vi x reader #sevika x reader #fanfic #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo

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ultrvmonogamy · 6 months

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How are u? I miss u bestie

hey bestie. rn i'm feeling a bit deflated tbh. i'm sure i'll be fine soon enough, but wow it just seems like there's always something bad happening for me here like one of my blogs is disappearing or an acct is being termed or a former mutual is no longer following me or a current mutual is no longer interacting w me or i'm finding out ppl r talking abt me behind my back n spinning half truths into hideous vileness or i'm visiting a mutual's blog n am immediately nauseated seeing content reblogged from the most duplicitous blogger i know of n who's made claims abt me that r the actual polar opposite of the interactions that occurred while literally echoing words i've personally said here abt striving to be authentic n genuine or i'm seeing a former mutual's response to a question abt following ppl back that talks abt how they don't rly do it anymore bc everyone turned out to be terrible ppl n knowing that i'm probably one of the ppl they think that abt but for bullshit reasons or like i'm having warm n wholesome thoughts towards someone for a split second before remembering that oh yeah wait they think i'm evil now n r no longer one of my few real friends if they ever were or i'm being told to kill myself or i'm finding myself afraid to reply to a question by someone who's been canceled for alleged disgusting things but i don't know if any of that stuff was true bc i sure as hell now know firsthand that ppl r well-capable of attributing motives that do not exist n yet here i am now paralyzed n not responding bc i don't if my once thriving but now v precarious existence here would survive the association of even answering a totally benign question n so also thereby better understand other ppl's resistance to interacting w or implicitly endorsing my content simply for the just-in-case-ness of it all or like a sick, sick individual who last showed up in my world a few yrs ago attempting to catfish me by leveraging the death of someone i cared abt showed up again yesterday either again attempting to catfish me or sending some likely unsuspecting minion to do her bidding (unclear which) n like holy hell, u know? well the main reason i started this blog n started talking here was literally to vent n to be raw n authentic n just own all my weirdness n my conflict n my vulnerability n my perversion n my trauma n my hope n my fear n my stupidity n my experience n my insight n then when ppl completely unexpectedly to me began to follow n interact, my purpose for it expanded to connect w ppl on a real level w the parts of me that i'd let starve or had starved willfully whether out of ignorance or naivety or learned shame or simply fear of being know n to thereby find resonance n all the while to attempt for all that i'm worth to integrate it in a positive way n hopefully thereby facilitate others doing the same n maybe just maybe if i'm super extra lucky n the moths happen to flap their wings in just the right manners at the witching hour while the moon's in the right phase to be able to offer smth of worth to the world in a greater magnitude than i've been able to thus far n well i'm not going to stop trying to integrate n to connect n to be willing to stand up n own my shit until the day my heart stops beating n even w what is now at times such a stentorian din of noise that in moments i cannot even begin to tell what key it's all in or whether there's even a rhythm let alone where the downbeat went i am going to keep trying to improvise a harmony [some of which intrinsically necessitates my silence], it's still the place where i seem most to find meaningful resonance w others who r similarly motivated n similarly struggling but yeah it gets to be a little much sometimes..

but how're u bestie? n why do u miss me? do we not talk? did we ever? do i just suck so bad at replying that an anon seemed a better way to get a response?

in any case, i hope ur well, n i probably miss u too 🩵

p.s. sry i couldn't spare much punctuation what w inflation n the supply chaine n all the crimes against humanity etc.

#mail #anon #abt #oc

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ziskeyt · 9 months

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I think. because it was a minor stroke. Because it was undiagnosed for months, and would have gone so entirely had I not gotten an MRI. Because i am still capable even if I am capable of less. I think most people who know I had a stroke and know me now, and knew me before and just kind of like "oh that sounds serious, but they seem okay so it must be no big deal" or at least, it feels that way with how my family has been. I was incredibly lucky it was as relatively benign as it was. my stroke was due to an artery feeding into my brain. I could play what-ifs until the sun dies, but at the end of the day, i was lucky. for a while i was kinda iffy about calling myself a stroke survivor cause i mean, what was there to survive? I'm just perpetually dizzy.

but there's a void in my brain where balance used to be. a black nothing on the scans where activity should be. some part of me gone, forever. should the area heal and come alive again, i doubt it would be the same, scarred, certainty. everything i've read said i'll have markings on all my scans going until i die now. seeing how long that void is, even though it is quite narrow, made it really sink in that oh. i have damage to my brain now. i've had it this entire time. I'm gonna get a better cane. and i'm not going to feel so bad about how long writing is taking me, or how tired i am. of course i'm tired, my brain has to heal a section that's non responsive.

#stroke posting #i've been doing better at being less frustrated with how slow i am

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meg2md · 9 months

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Wow, you're off Tumblr for months and the UI gets more fucked up than ever! Nice. How does Tumblr do it? Keep getting worse and worse? And yet I still come back to this website occasionally, because I'm also trash.

Residency makes it hard to keep a blog. I barely have time for household chores and hobbies, let alone ONLINE journaling when I'm also pouring out my heart occasionally on my actual, IRL written journal and trying to maintain friendships.

Anyway. Started R2. It's actually better so far, as much as I felt I was never going to be ready. Don't get me wrong, I still feel woefully inadequate approximately all of the time. But wow, does it feel good to not hold the gyne and OB pager, to not have to fight with the nurses about pitocin on the floor, to do something other than manage labor on OB days. I started on nights, which I thought was going to be a disaster, but actually ended up being fine. I think I got lucky, because usually the R2 gets blown up since they manage antepartum AND gynecology overnight, but the ED and antepartum nurses were relatively benign to me.

And just... the FREEDOM of not having to write q2h strip and mag notes, to not have to pay hawk-like attention to the strips... and the nurses and I get along better than ever now that

A) they have new intern prey to feast upon, and

B) I'm not riding everyone's ass about the strips

Literally, my LEAST FAVORITE PART OF MY JOB is being a labor intern because you're expected to make sure the pitocin keeps going up, up, up but the nurses don't always want to with a category 2 strip, but like, category 2 doesn't mean it's not reassuring, and also you can't have a baby without contractions, but there's always a "policy" for why we can't do XYZ.... and it's like... why am I even here then, just run the labor floor without me if everything is 100% policy-driven, lol. Category 2 isn't BAD guys!!! It's not always bad. And I know the strips aren't always amazing but dude.... we either pit enough we can get a baby out vaginally or they might as well get cut here and now instead of spinning our wheels with inadequate pitocin dosing.

Anyway... rant over hahaha. Ooooh I hated labor as an intern. I loved it in the beginning, but I QUICKLY, QUICKLY came to dread it for the above reasons. And now, as an R2 on OB days, my primary job will be c-sections! Which is incredible because right now I feel like I'm so bad at them. I've done a few over 20 since I started residency. Other programs have you do more as an intern, but I did end up with >200 vaginal deliveries, so I really can't complain. And like I said, my OB days blocks will be me doing 2-5 sections per day... so I'll get real good real fast. I just don't do it for awhile (nights > family planning > oncology > OB days) so I feel nervous when I'm assigned sections on nights and call, but I'll get there eventually. TRUST THE PROCESS, they say. I mean, I guess I thought I'd never figure out how to insert a hysteroscope into a uterus and chomp off an intracavitary leiomyoma, and I figured that out by the end of R1, so there's got to be something to it.

Things I still don't feel good about that I should have gotten better at by the end of R1: LACERATION REPAIRS. But whatever. I'm sure it will improve as my surgical skills improve.

Now I'm starting to stress because in the middle of having more responsibility, figuring out C-sections and basic laparoscopy, etc, I have to get research started and decide once and for all if I want to do fellowship. I've been waffling between generalist practice and MIGS for ages.

On one hand, I do like obstetrics more than I initially expected, I like that I'll have more freedom to do abortion care, and the thought of MORE training when I'm already almost 32 and have 2.5 years left of residency makes me want to vomit. On the other hand, the MIGS lifestyle is much better than OB lifestyle, I may still be able to do abortions, and I really, REALLY want to have elite surgical training. I'm sure I'll figure it out more on my gynecology and oncology blocks when I do more minimally invasive/generally spend more time in the OR. Not sure how much I like the thought of running a chronic pain and endometriosis clinic. But also... I feel like I went to a decently-tiered medical school and graduated with the assumption I would do fellowship, and to cut my training short and arguably without satisfactory surgical training feels bad. Because at the end of the day, I'm not actually sure how well general OB/GYN residency prepares you for surgery. I'm not sure I trust it yet.

C'est la vie. Back to other things. Studying hormonal contraception in patients with medical co-morbidities before biking back to my house to play MASS EFFECT 3. I'm also a pickle ball fanatic now.

Byeee

#medblr #studyblr #residency #medical school #premed

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dredshirtroberts · 15 days

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as usual, interactions with my family (benign and in fact only the bare minimum of an interaction) have caused me to have Complex Feelings.

my grandpa's got cancer. this isn't news, it's just a fact and has been a fact since 2016. Pancreatic cancer that has metastasized outside of his pancreas (specifically in his lungs - it's damn lucky it's slow growing and he's a contrarian by nature). He is no longer doing chemotherapy about it, but he's part of a very small percentage of people who survive more than 6 years with it. so. You know. there's that.

He's doing well, all things considered. Again, it's slow growing cancer, he's somehow lucked out with it. I'll know we're close to the end when he stops wanting to get out in his boat and go fishing. Or stops working on the boat in general. I'm very fortunate to have known all of my grandparents for my whole life so far - even if some of them ended up being major bigots apparently. oh well, when you've got 6 you're allowed a couple duds.

My grandpa and grandma are trying very hard to love me. They've adjusted to the name once i mentioned "hey, literally no one i am still talking to calls me my old name anymore, i know i said it was okay to use in the transition stage but i honestly forget to answer to it, would you mind?" and then they immediately went for the change. they still struggle with my pronouns but like. grandpa's got cancer, i'm not going to fuss at him for using she or her for me (especially during a season where like. i am more girl right now, whether i like it or not lol. it's...complicated). I'll correct grandma later down the line if I gotta but like.

they both just assume i'm one of those Strange Lesbians and like, i'm not not one of those, it's just not what i told them when i came out. so like. it's complicated.

I... cannot get over how much they were emphasizing how happy i sound now. Grandma even mentioned it in her note in the card i got sent for my birthday. I mean it's true, i am very happy up here. I'm happier than i ever have been, in fact. I have never been this well off mentally before.

it sucks a little that they like. didn't understand how very deeply unhappy i was before now. that they have to hear it now, how very different i am when i am excited and enthusiastic and looking forward to an actual future for once.

it sucks a lot that i don't feel comfortable sharing more with them, that i don't feel like i can reach out and request comfort or assurance from them. It sucks a lot that they're not the only ones that I feel like this about in my biofamily.

I didn't know I didn't trust any of them until i found people I do trust. until i found people i know i can rely on when things are bad even if only to be in the bad with me so i'm not alone.

the birthday call and card were both somewhat of a response to my update email - one so that grandma could double check to make sure the address would receive mail so i would get my card, and two so that we could catch up a little.

We didn't discuss my health issues at all. the questions i had about our family's medical history, I didn't get any of that information from them. I could have asked. Should have. Forgot. Could probably call them back and bring it up but...

well. Grandpa's got cancer. I don't want him worrying about my heart. or my bones. or my pain. he doesn't know me that well, after all. it would be an unnecessary burden to him. Especially since all of that information was in my email, and they never actually confirmed they got it, outside of me reminding them that the address was in the email - and then the card got to me.

so they got the email. they have it. they have chosen not to respond with any useful information. Just like my aunt on that side. just like my sister.

just like my mom would have, if i'd sent it to her.

at least i know she comes by it honest.

like. bright sides: money for my birthday hell yeah that's a lot of money to buy weed with (i will likely end up using it for bills mainly, but. still). grandpa's still doing okay (desperate to get back out on the water with his fishin pole) and like. i think we're all in a place mentally where we're just. accepting of the inevitable. which like, not fun, but of the pre-grief options, i'll take it. Grandma sounds like she's doing alright and it's getting warm out so she's going to be able to garden which will help her feel even better probably. i don't have to cut off yet another section of my biofamily at this point, which is always a nice thing to not have to do (i won't lie...they are on thin ice, i'm just... delaying things because, well. grandpa's got cancer. wouldn't you?)

i...am allowed to not deal with people who stress me out and make me anxious, even if their genetics did contribute to my existence (and especially if they didn't) but... well. grandpa's got cancer. and he's always been a bit of a dick. he's actually mellowed out a lot, and well. they stress me out but it's... very different from my mom (their daughter). so. they get to be on the same boat as my aunt (their other daughter) and my sister. i won't do it yet, but. well. i might do in the future. it depends on them.

i hope i don't gotta carve out more of my biofamily in order to have peace. i'd like to keep some blood connection to that side of the family in my circle. i just might need to cast a wider net and involve people i really don't know all that well into it. no time like the present to start building new relationshps with folks, right?

anyway i'll go back to trying hard not to focus on the background planning for what i'm going to have to be ready for when funerals start happening.

#heads up i talk about my grandpa's cancer dx from 8 years ago and the way my brain has been dealing with that for that same time period #i'm cool about it but like i know it's a sensative thing for others so just be aware #also as usual a cw for my family being mentioned in general #i'm glad they know i'm happy now and they know what that sounds like #and that they're glad i am happy #are the important things i guess

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ambrosia-ghostie · 2 years

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when is your birthday? february 13 what is your favorite color? it's funny, i just told my mom yesterday - it was always light blue, but now it's evolved to light purple what’s your lucky number? 12 do you have any pets? i live at home right now so i suppose i have our family dog, charlie - a very excitable goldendoodle how tall are you? 5'4

how many pairs of shoes do you own? i have many old pairs just there in my closet, but i would say i actively wear about 5 pairs

favorite song? yikes, one? it changes - as i'm sure it does with most people. for some reason i've been obsessed with "suddenly seymour" from little shop of horrors the last few days so let's go with that haha

favorite movie? zodiac. david fincher, always.

what would be your ideal partner? someone who is either asexual/demisexual (i'm still figuring that out which for myself), someone i find handsome or pretty (not necessarily conventionally - but hygienic, well-groomed, a face i enjoy looking at... i feel like i sound petty, but basically just someone i find cute on a personal level), someone who is more of an extrovert than i am and challenges me to be adventurous, someone i have at least a few things in common with (theatre, film, sims), and - importantly - someone who makes me laugh a lot

do you want children? i do, but i don't. i love kids, but part of me knows that i may not be capable of being responsible for a child's life when i am living with multiple disorders

have you gotten in trouble with the law? nah - unless you count a few speeding and traffic tickets, but long island is one giant speed trap

what color socks are you wearing? none! i don't like wearing socks in bed

bath or shower? shower, for sure. i love good pressure, i can control the temperature better than a bath, and i feel less self-conscious. by that i mean that i'm in a less vulnerable position when i'm standing up as opposed to laying down. it usually makes me feel claustrophobic and i don't love looking down at myself. a jacuzzi sized tub would probably be really lovely though!

favorite type of music? musical theatre - i love songs that tell stories and that's what musical theatre does (or should do if it's well-written)

how many pillows do you sleep with? two.

which position do you sleep in? i do this weird thing where i turn a couple of different ways on my side before i get comfortable leaning partially on my side to the right (where my wall is) lol

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping? being woken up by my dog scratching at my door. due to the medication i take, i have to take a few additional meds and supplements to fall and stay asleep. so when he scratches just to get my attention and walk away it's really frustrating and hard for me to fall back asleep. i still love him to pieces though.

what do you have for breakfast? i usually have a thomas everything bagel with temptee cream cheese. it's the only cream cheese i'll eat and it makes any bagel taste good - i swear! my jewish grandmother from brooklyn trained me well haha

have you ever tried archery? i did once on a first date! it was a nice way to get to know someone. i was actually pretty good to my surprise

favorite fruit? pineapple

favorite swear word? fuck - it's so versatile!

do you have any scars? i have a scar on my left breast from when i had a cyst removed when i was 16. i checked myself like they told us to do in health class and i actually had a lump. it was benign, thankfully

are you a good liar? i'm a very good liar, yes. i don't know if it's because i'm a performer, but i've become alarmingly good at it. i really want to stop doing it though. typically i only lie to avoid confrontation or when i don't want to tell someone my mental health is not great

what’s your personality type? i forgot so i honestly just took a test and apparently i'm an infp-t. the mediator. based on the description, it's remarkably accurate.

what’s your favorite type of girl? a loyal friend, honest when honesty is needed the most, makes time for their loved ones

left or right handed? lefty!

favorite food? i really love thai drunken noodles - i just had them last night and it's definitely my comfort food dish

are you clean or messy? i like to think of my habitat as organized chaos haha. i have some clutter, but i keep my space clean. i think i just have too much stuff!

favorite foreign food? i love good chinese food - thankfully i have a lot of options in new york. however, i also love mall food court chinese food once in a blue moon. it's its own thing in my opinion haha

how long does it take for you to get ready? it depends where i'm going. i could get ready right now in 10 minutes to go to the drug store and not care what i look like, but if i'm seeing friends or going to an event i usually take an hour or two to shower, blow out my hair, put on makeup, get dressed (and possibly change outfits a few times)

most used phrase? "no problem" - but usually there are problems lol

are you a good singer? i would never "make it" on broadway, but i am a skilled singer. training has helped tremendously and the right technique can make such a difference. i had the amazing opportunity this year to challenge myself when i was cast in a production of "titanic" the musical (not based on the movie! ahh) and it was so great to go back to my roots singing classically since the musical is more of an operetta than traditional musical theatre. so, in short, yes - i am haha

do you sing to yourself? i used to all the time when i had my own apartment, but now that i'm living at home again i feel a little self-conscious so i save it for the car. i don't know why i can sing in front of hundreds of people and be fine while the idea of my dad or brother catching me singing terrifies me, but i guess being weird comes with the territory of being a creative-type

biggest fear? my parents dying

do you like long or short hair? on myself? i grew out my hair over the last two years and i really love it. however, i reaally need a trim to get rid of the dead ends. but i've enjoyed having shorter hair too - especially in the summer months

are you into gossips? i work for a theater and i'm deeply involved in my local theatre community so gossip is inherently part of my day-to-day life. however, i've learned the hard way that it's always best to not get involved, be kind, and try and remain respectful for people who are unkind

extrovert or introvert? i can adapt depending on situations. if i know i need to buck up and put on a face for the sake of mediating a problem or something i can definitely conjure up "extroverted jaime," but i definitely am an introvert by default

favorite school subject? i loved english. i would write witty titles for all my essays and sometimes even include a graphic for the cover page... which probably explains why i'm a social media content creator now

what makes you nervous? i've realized the root of my anxiety is when i am dealing with the unknown - whether it be the outcome of a heated meeting at work, if my doctor's office will actually get my prescription to the pharmacy in time, or anything that leaves me waiting for an answer. i want immediate resolutions and i know that's not realistic

who was your first real crush? a guy at theatre camp who ended up being gay... and an awful person

how many piercings do you have? just my ears. i had a nose stud, but i took it out for a show years ago and it closed up because i lost it. i'd like to get one again in the future, but it depends on the office environment of my next full-time job... which i am currently looking for

how fast can you run? "no." - the person who filled this out expressed my answer perfectly.

what makes you angry? life treating bad people well

do you like your own name? i do, but i wish people would spell it correctly because that causes all sorts of issues. people assume i'm "jamie" when i'm "jaime" --- this season of the umbrella academy really turned me on to the "jayme" spelling though. or maybe i'd like "jaymee" --- i'm too lazy to ever change it, but i'm tired and i barely know what i'm typing at this point. i do not recommend pulling all-nighters for absolutely no reason

what are your weaknesses? i care too much about what people think about me. i have trouble staying productive and focused on work unless it's something that comes easy to me like creating graphics and writing copy. i'm overly sensitive to mental and physical stimuli (which can be good because i'm very empathetic and creative) and i can lose control at times

what are your strengths? i'm empathetic, creative, and passionate. i have a really good support system in my family and close friends. and, oddly enough, my sensitivity. i wrote that it can be a weakness, but it's the reason why i'm so emotionally moved by theatre, music, and films. it's the reason why i can find a deeper meaning in texts and in life in general

what is the color of your bedspread? it's dark grey, but i just ordered a mint one that will be good for days when it's not quite hot enough to turn on my air conditioner

color of your room? (faded) light blue. i want to have it painted lavender soon

#get to know me #i asked myself questions #oops #feel free to fill out and reblog!#bluegingham #blueginghamsims

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

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Hello! I'm watching The Alienist- Angel of Darkness, and I keep thinking of a fic where laszlo's wife!reader just gave birth and this case worries the poor man more than usual, because their baby is in danger and he can't get into the assassin's mind. Perhaps the reader could offer to breastfeed laszlo, and they have an in-depth conversation about the workings of the killer's mind and why the reader herself enjoys nurturing her husband. Perhaps it would even become a habit after the case was solved and every time Doctor Kreizler wanted some milk, he would let her know with a touch just below her breast that would go unnoticed in public as a gesture of affection? I think I thought about it too much, what do you think about writing about it?

The Marriage of Happiness [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Wife!Reader]

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: erotic lactation, breastfeeding kink, mention of other kinks and of murder

A/N: What do I think about writing it? I think THANKY YOU because I could write Laszlo having a boobie obsession for the rest of my life. I do think about it daily and it is just THE kink for him (as poor @cazzyimagines knows how obsessed I am). The case of studies mentioned are taken from psychology books of the time. I don''t know what point you're with Angel of Darkness so I am not giving out too much.

The night was dark and tensed, not a soul on the streets of the residential area you lived in with your husband, the only light up the one in your bedroom.

You became mother three months before welcoming the first little Kreizler of her generation. It was hard but worth every second, every moment of the pregnancy and the delivery your husband was with you. You were lucky, you felt lucky to be with a man like Laszlo: open minded, modern, charming and righteous.

You smiled walking around the room as you lulled your baby humming a soft lullaby, the baby observing you with dazzling eyes, you could see she was tired and the melody kept her attentive but also lulled her to a place of comfort.

You swayed slowly in a gentle waltzer, your arms embracing the tiny body wrapped up into the finest white clothing. You yourself wore your white nightdress with a dark green cover up that Laszlo gifted you, it was slightly bigger in size so you’d use it though the whole pregnancy, your hair loosely braided.

The baby opened her mouth making a soft sound, she was calm and relaxed, to see her like this brought you an immense joy.

You heard steps approaching to the door, the house was empty since Stevie was with Laszlo and the cook you hired was in her quarters, you wouldn’t be worried if your husband wasn’t working on a case of abducted babies, but then you followed Laszlo’s common sense and listened instead of letting your mind worry. You listened to the steps coming one after the other, the weight of them, the pace.

You smiled to yourself as you guessed right, your husband appeared on the door frame and the shadow over his face disappeared for a moment meeting your standing figure with the baby. Since the case begun he refused to have any new staff in the house, he brought the bed of the baby in your bedroom, which wasn’t common back then, and every night sent Stevie to roam around the streets before going to bed to see if there was any obscure presence.

“My love” he said with a smile as he walked his way toward you undoing his jacket as you offered him a look of the falling asleep baby. His left hand gently caressing the little chest to feel the breathe of life in it. The baby blinked at him and smiled. Your baby girl was an early smiler, she smiled in her first month which just ripped off her father soul, tucked it in her little pocket and sold him forever. He was already ecstatic to be a father, only the announcement of your pregnancy got him wild, a mix of worry and tenderness always over him. The constant fear to be losing it. To lose what you brought to his life, not only his daughter but that happiness, the home feeling, the meaning to have something to come back to at night.

He loved you like a flower loves the water, he loved you more than metaphors can explain. He closed his eyes pressing his forehead against your temple, you rocked the baby gently in your arms as she relaxed, the sleep over her even if the presence of her father stirred her a bit.

“I am so worried for her” he murmured, he couldn’t cope with it anymore. The pressure to be following that case.

Sara told him to drop it, but he couldn’t. He owed it to Martha Napp, he owed him to his own child. To be in the case put his darling baby into the spotlight, but the best chance to solve it and avoid the menace of losing the apple of his eyes was to fight the crime from the inside.

And yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t get inside it.

He looked up and noticed your eyes on him, you detected the twist into his mind, the fear, the tremble of his intentions.

You kissed his cheek as his head was bowed slightly before slowly moving away to lean the baby into her cradle.

“Get comfortable” you urged him softly as he nodded to you undoing his jacket and his waist coat shrugging them off his shoulders as you adjusted the baby into her usual sleeping position, you pulled the covers over her caressing her head full of dark blonde hair like her father had as a child. You brushed them gently as she stirred and relaxed again, a soft sound coming from her mouth. She was well dressed, well fed and happy, you knew your child had all the possibilities in life to be the most charming and smartest woman of her times.

You moved the little veils on top of the crib to shield her from the dim lights of the room before pacing your way back to your husband.

Laszlo was sat on your shared bed. His eyes focused in the nothing in front of him. His waistcoat and jacket abandoned as he wore only his candid white shirt and dark pants.

You picked the hooked needle as you slowly bowed to your knees, he blinked surprised for a moment as you begun to undo his boots silently. You knew him, you gave him time to express himself. He was elaborating still, collecting ideas after a day spent talking back and forth with Sara.

“I saw the body” he said as you looked up.

“The body of Martha Napp’s baby” he added and you frowned, the poor woman, you couldn’t imagine yourself in her position. You’d probably be accused of murder too because you’d probably become feral if somebody touched your baby.

“Are you sure it is her baby?”

You knew he was sure, but the hope still fazed you.

“The child was poisoned, the deadly pallor was evident but Martha mentioned her child had an identifying contusion” he took a pause, he licked his lips as you could almost see him relieve the scene in his mind “A benign hemangioma under her left axilla”

He looked at you, to see the corpse of a baby, a baby that could be his, to find out a baby girl was abducted and this time in a well known residential area. The anxiety took over him. He was pestered by dark worries, images that saw you in a state of loss and disruption like the poor Señora Linares.

His eyes rested onto you, your calm firmness made him shake at times. His strong and aggressive demeanour might show him as the rock of the couple, but you are. You’re the one that can overcome things, that can see clearly when his mind is clouded.

“Might that child soul rest now with her mother, if you allow me I will take care of organising the burial along with the mother’s corpse as soon as the Isaacson’s have concluded their inspections on it”

He looked at you, a soft smile crept on him. Your thoughtful self always finding the cure to the pain. He saw the failure and you found the ultimate resolution. You could not join them in life, let it be in death.

You gave him a warm smile before finishing with both his boots and pulling them out, your hands slowly tracing his calves and ankles resting your chin on his knee to interject his eyes.

“Darling”

He blinked, he zoned out again and your voice called him back.

“I apologise” he only said

You stood up, his eyes lingering over your body for a moment. You healed like a true champion after the delivery, in few weeks you were back on your feet like nothing, in a month you were able to attend events. Your energy and vitality made you seem immortal to his eyes, which triggered his fears of loss even more.

Something so special, so strong like you, the idea to see you broken in any shape or form poisoned his soul and tortured his heart.

“Laszlo” once again, you called him back to reality as you sat beside him “you’re not thinking clearly”

He huffed softly, you were right.

“I can’t focus” he admitted finally taking your hand in his “I even upset the señora with my questions, enraged Sara, I feel like an headless chicken rushing around to find answers I can’t deal with. The scientific community protecting a butcher, John doing all he can at the newspaper and yet I am providing nothing to this investigation but background noise” he frowned deeply.

You could tell he was doing it for Martha and for you. He wanted to protect you and he tried to keep you far from all that darkness.

“Come” you said as you moved to your spot on the bed relaxing your legs as you adjusted some pillows behind your back “come on”

You hushed him and he obeyed quietly crawling on the bed, his frown still present. You hated to see him like that. Usually he was able to keep cases of study and worries outside of the bedroom, but this case was too personal.

You smiled at him as you undid the silly bow on your neck that kept the upper part of your night gown up. It was a maternity gown so to undo that little knot exposed the sensual curve of your breasts in a second. His eyes indulged over that little silky cloth twisted around your finger and the stars of little moles on your chest, he knew each of them by memory, he knew the scent of your perfume and the oils you use after bathing.

He looked up at you with a questioning look, he mindlessly run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip when you exposed your juicy breasts. He always had a thing for them, he was always enchanted by the feminine chest as the highest form of femininity, big or small, that sensual shape was the epitome of life, of the charms of Eve in the Garden of Eden, the Mother Earth personified into the sacred body of his wife.

His eyes darted up back at you, a silent question on him as you didn’t let his confusion overwhelm you, you fought it with calmness and temperance.

“I know only one way to calm a restless Kreizler”

Your words would have made him smile as your open arms weren’t such a charming offer. He run his tongue again over his upper lip this time, using his left arm as support he slowly slipped closer to you.

His face leaned to yours as you didn’t seem to have changed your mind.

Somebody else would have maybe found it repulsive, a man of simple and good heart like John would have felt that kind of attention misplaced.

But not him.

He lowered himself over your chest adjusting into a nice position as you used few extra pillows you had there to ensure him a comfortable stay. His nose gently brushed over the inside of your chest, his hot breath hitting over your skin as he looked up at you once more and once more a welcoming smile followed his gaze.

He leaned down once again, lips parted to gently capture your nipple among them. Your mouth gaping lightly as he sucked a bit too much at the beginning sending shivers down your spine but just like any child his sucking revealed his anxiety to be fed, his fear and his need of protection.

You wrapped one arm around him as with the other you brushed his hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp to relax him, fingers combing his always well kept hair.

You watched his eyes flutter closed as you resumed your usual humming. It wasn’t a real lullaby, it was some of a rhythm you got stuck in your head.

“You’re here and I am here, our baby is safe from the world outside and nothing bad can happen” you narrated softly to him “you’re the most amazing man I have ever met, I know that the clarity of your thinking will come back. Just stop the world for a moment, it will all be back when the time comes right”

He hummed softly as you fell silent gently caressing him as you observed him lovingly, the fingers of his weak right hand toying with your braid. His beard hitching a bit in the beginning but you got soon used to it, you didn’t speak up anymore, you felt him relax more and more and you also did. This new kind of bond felt pleasurable and sweet, you felt to have reached a new kind of intimacy which is all you could hope for your marriage.

The time passed in silence, not a sound disturbing you until Laszlo’s relaxed body stretched lightly, the common knowledge telling you that the baby is fed.

He pulled back slowly before resting a kiss over your chest in a silent thank you.

He rested his head over your lap observing you like some Madonna staring at him with you gentle tenderness, not even Michelangelo could have grasped the beauty of your act or the absolute unfiltered love of your gaze.

“Was it pleasurable for you?”

He asked as you smiled gently caressing his cheek and his beard

“It was, you are really gentle” you answered. Another thing that you loved about your marriage was the unfiltered expression of feelings. You both looked for clarity through the eyes of your partner.

“Does it makes me your child?”

You smiled understandingly. This is your Laszlo, inquiring, curious, witty.

“No, no I don’t have a feeling that resemblance to breastfeed a child, it is more deep, more bound into my mind as an act of” you stopped thinking about it.

“Communion?”

He dared and you nodded as that was the right word.

“There’s a 1903 study, a German alienist suggested practicing erotic lactation as a way to deepen the relationship between husband and wife in a book called Die Offenbarung im Weibe, quite of a title I’d say, but he advised it as a good way to family plan, to give both the partners pleasure and he focused most of his studies over the idea of women’s sexual satisfaction being vital to the creation of an happy marriage.”

“It pleases me, I won’t deny it and it is a way that makes me feel you closer to me but in a more primal way, closer to the way sex works but with a different meaning”

He nodded as he toyed still with your brain slowly, a little fetish he just noticed in himself still doomed by the charm of unfiltered pure femininity.

Long hair, breasts, welcoming hips, all details that attracted him and drawn him toward you.

“There’s a study case, a man, a very wealthy one, he was obsessed with female hair. The smell, the composition, the touching” he paused as he toyed with yours among his fingers “He wouldn’t be able to suppress his desire, he confessed me his deepest fantasy was to have an orgasm while kissing the female hair and burying his head through them. It was peculiar but not harmful until he got himself a pocket knife, one of those not even good for a little pickpocketing but just as good to be able to cut some ladies’s hair in a crowd”

You kept caressing his hair yourself, probably moved also by the story, observing it and enjoying the texture.

“Do you think the killer of children needs to posses his fetish then?”

He nodded as you’re so smart.

“The possession is part of the final abdication of a person to their fetish, to be up to crime to own the desired being just proves the final commitment to the satisfaction of one’s desires” he explained to you and he paused now almost asking to himself “why would somebody steal a child then?”

You turned around looking at the crib where your baby girl rested.

“Because my crib is empty” you said and his eyes widened lightly.

“Tell me more, try to imagine it”

You frowned lightly as you moved your hands away from him, making distance, imagining the loneliness of empty arms, the excruciating pain of having a child and then not having it anymore.

“I need to give my love to my child” you said then taking a pause, your eyes staring to some unknown spot of the room “and if my child is not there, I will make sure that there will be”

Laszlo sat up as he stared at you.

“But that child won’t resemble you, your child was special and peculiar in its own way, this child grows up, changes, blabbers words while yours didn’t”

He pushed this image in you as you came to the only reasonable deduction you’d do if you were in such a state

“Then that is not my child” you said only “my child is somewhere else and this one is an impostor”

Laszlo nodded “So you get rid of it as soon as the reality outgrows the fantasy”

He concluded.

You looked at him as he stared back at you, a woman, the killer must be a woman that lost a child or got it taken away from her. She finds surrogates and dismisses them, she probably never saw her baby grow so they can’t grow.

“What would I do without you?”

You smiled at his words “you’d be completely lost, we both know about it” you said kissing his lips having a taste of your own medicine “now get into your night clothing, you’ll see Sara tomorrow to give her this new perspective.”

He smiled, not even a trace of the worried and confused Laszlo that stepped I the room before. He was back to his senses, his mind active, he could see with clarity.

- - - - - - -

The case unveiled itself, proof after proof, run after run, document after document he came to the solution.

He was proud, you and the baby were safe and now he could go back to the everyday.

“I don’t see the point Laszlo, you have proved yourself enough against him” John said as he stared up at his annoyed features s you served him some more tea.

John looked at you like why are you not stopping him but you just smiled it off relaxing in the loveseat beside your husband as John shook his shoulders like an annoyed bird.

“A man like Dr Markoe after all he did holding a public lecture with the anguishing title of Murder, Madness and Motherhood?” Laszlo snapped back at John “please, the least I can do is to humiliate him in front of the whole academic arena”

Laszlo leaned back smiling at his friend like he was just a poor fool.

“He will again fight on you, you know he always picks up on you for treating mostly children and being part of the investigation, you get heated with him and you lose your control”

John seemed only to know reasons to get Laszlo to desist, you understood him from your part, your husband was a fiery character and he hardly forgive people with quick and poor judgements. You also noticed he became way more aggressive toward Markoe since before the case, he always depicted pregnant women as prone to lose control, foolish and behaving like animals that had to be kept on a tight leash, it all in particular when you were expecting.

John’s tsunami of words couldn’t be stopped he had a reason not to do anything but your attention was quickly taken away by the soft touch of Laszlo’s hand on your side, just above the hem of your corset, his thumb tracing the side of your boob giving you a shiver as you already knew perfectly what he was demanding.

You could now tell that John actually made him feel unsure or at least unsettled him, he needed comfort and energies to face his enemy now.

Sara groaned making herself heard for the first time, she noticed his gesture and found it actually cute as she could never wish Laszlo with somebody more perfected than you. Your calmness matched his fiery nature, you talked when he needed to think, you smiled when he couldn’t. You allowed him to be more himself than he had ever been.

“Let’s go John, you’re being so obnoxious, at what time we will see the butchery of the doctor?”

You quickly answered to her giving her a gentle smile as she put John to silence.

She asked as she stood up and John groaned following her “See you there” John said still saying how useless it was to still go after that man.

Laszlo stood up escorting them to the exit and then coming back to the living room. You sat there like he left you, he would close the door behind his back locking it before crossing the room with long steps and close the curtains letting the darkness wrap around you. Your fingers slowly undoing your shirt as his shape takes again form in front of you as he turns on one lamp in the corner of the room before moving closer to you again, eyes shining even in the obscurity as his fingers finally meet with your skin once you undid the first knots on your corset.

“Give me life” he would plead to you before lacing his lips your nipple once more.

You knew from the first suck on your nipple how Markoe held no chance on today’s debate.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

#dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler drabble #dr laszlo kreizler x you #dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr kreizler #laszlo kreizler fic #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler headcanons #tw: lactation kink

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gentlemancrow · 3 years

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idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

#The Magnus Archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #Fan fic #Crow Writes #Ask Drabble #Fricklefracklefloof

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val-aquenta · 3 years

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Late again! I’m sorry about that, but here it is. Jedi June for the prompt: There is no death, there is the Force

Here on ao3

Luke has spent years travelling across the galaxy chasing after the hints of Jedi that remained. He had not understood the extent that the Empire had gone to destroy every single piece of evidence for the existence of the Jedi. The average citizen of the Empire, now called the Republic and benign re-organised under Leia’s watchful eyes, did not even know what a Jedi was. Often the only ones who remembered were those directly related to people from the Clone Wars. Still, Luke had expected… something at the very least. Some books about them, or written by them, saved somewhere. Perhaps, if he was lucky, survivors. It seems, however, that was not the case.

The first thing he’d gone to was the various Temples scattered around the place. Most of them had already been crumbling before the empire had risen, and therefore there was little there. He’d been told by an old twi’lek lady that Jedi of all ages would come there to study archaeology and theology of other sects of the Jedi here, however that had stopped during the war, the Republic calling them back to fight on the front lines instead of pursuing their interests here. “A Jedi left me these when she went to fight.” The twi’lek had opened a somewhat ornate box of Mirialan style, he believed and revealed books and old clothes. “She never returned to pick them up.” Sadness then shone in the twi’leks eyes, a loneliness and loss that spoke of a love lost to the cruelty of death. The twi’lek had let him take photos of a lot of it, keeping some parts of the personal journal private, and had sent him on his way with a blessing.

Eventually, as the Imperial threat disappeared and fled to the outer rim, Luke made his way to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, expecting some kind of remnant of the Jedi. Here, at least, people knew of them, but they seemed to dislike them very much. The Temple was still there, but it had been cruelly turned into the Imperial palace for Palpatine to languish in. He watched, anger twisting his gut, as they burned down the Imperial banners decorating the outside walls. Leia had gone with him as they entered the ruined building. It would have been a beautiful place if the death of children could not be felt through the walls. Darkness seemed to coat the surface of the Temple like oil on water, but he felt some semblance of hope as less touched places rejoiced at the feeling of a Jedi for the first time in many years. The archives which might have been beautiful only held the broken empty datacubes and vandalised art. The corridors Luke walked might have been a wonderful experience had the Empire not covered the cream walls with black paint and the blue carpet with red. Luke had left the artificial planet, now forever tainted by darkness, to establish his Jedi Order elsewhere, still on the lookout for the remnants of the Jedi.

A few years later an anonymous tip had sent him to some coordinates where a planet, icy and cold, hung. A massive trench bisected the planet, held together by some kind of metal machinations. There was a heavy loss hanging in the air when he stepped off and, once he delved into the planet, he realised that crystals had once been plentiful here. Indeed, almost hidden if not for the Force’s insistent pushing, a small cavern with Jedi carvings and crystals as well as a wall of ice hung. Obi-Wan had made himself known here, blue colour blending into the light colour of the ice. “What was this place?” He asked curiously, touching the head of a fallen statue softly. Obi-Wan, he knew, could not make himself appear often, so whenever they met he tried to make the most of it. Here though, strangely enough, he looked fainter than usual, as though he was weaker.

Ben’s face was filled with soft grief and loss. “This is Ilum. It was where the Gathering happened. Where younglings collected their crystals and faced their fears.” He looked around with sorrow. “I only wish that you could experience the same.”

Luke took in the fractured light here, broken by the loss of so much Kyber, “So do I.” Obi-Wan had opened the ice with the middle crystal, carefully manoeuvring it until it struck the ice. It had revealed the empty coves, only a few littered crystals remaining, some crushed under the boots of those who had mined here. Ben had dissipated soon after, not before regaling Luke with stories of the gathering which Luke had recorded carefully, trying not to be too bitter. Luke had left, disappointed and even more disillusioned. He just wanted something that remained for him to understand and experience.

Hurt by the fractured nature of the legacy of the Jedi, he had gone back to the Temple and fallen into a fit of sadness, trying to spend more time with the new Jedi, but every time he hit a curve and he did not know what to teach and how to answer a question, the mood would return. Even here in his home, he felt, unmoored, disconnected from what he did.

It was a day after one such event where Luke sat, meditating by a creek when he felt the telltale fluttery presence of a ghost. He slowly drew himself out of the meditation and peered over to blink in surprise. He’d never met this person before, and he was rather curious. The man, tall and imposing, cut a stern figure despite being a wispy blue. The man took a seat in front of him, on a rock lit by the sun. Strangely enough, the sun seemed to pass through him, and very little shadow outlined the ground.

“Luke Skywalker, am I right?” His robes were plain, not adorned as he had seen in a grainy image of a togruta he’d managed to recover.

“Yes… and you are?” His hands rested against his lap. Luke peered closely at the robes, attempting to memorise this set of robes to perhaps recreate it.

“Master Mace Windu.” The man bowed in greeting with that.

Luke gasped, “The Master Windu? From Ryloth?” This man was a hero. Legends still popped up, inspired by his feats of strength in Ryloth amongst the twi’lek. “You’re a legend…”

Mace chuckled a bit, “Am I?” He took a moment to compose himself, sitting down across from Luke. His face slowly set back into its serious contemplative state, resting a hand against his chin. “You are… interesting, and very kind. Attempting to piece together what the Empire destroyed.”

Luke grew cold. The failure to piece the Jedi back together stung. “Failing.”

“Not by your hand, though.” Mace was stern but still kind. He tilted his head, observing Luke thoughtfully. “You have done the best you could make no mistake, but there is very little left of us.” Luke felt a warmth being included with mace and the other Jedi. “Your perseverance to do so is commendable, but you must know when to stop, and when to focus on the Jedi under your care. They depend on you more than you realise.”

“But they ask questions, Master Windu, questions that I have no answers for.” Luke thought back to the day when a young Padawan had asked about the nature of relationships in relation to the Jedi way. “They killed our culture, and I can’t revive it.”

“Perhaps, but you can create it. You are a Jedi Luke, a Jedi capable of many great things.” A sadness seemed to envelop the man. “I wish that you might have lived in the Temple, but it has passed." The man seemed to be looking through him, as though he saw something beyond just his flesh and bone. Luminous beings indeed, Luke thought "Just because there is no Council, or the structure we once had is gone, does not mean you are a lesser Jedi than any of us.”

Luke looked away, “I don’t think I’m capable of doing that. What if I get something wrong.”

“Then you do.” The man brushed invisible dust from his robes and stood up a telltale sign that he was going to fade away. “This is the New Jedi Order, things are bound to change and be different. You can’t expect to salvage a whole culture from the scattered ashes of an old one. The change is already here, now you must only embrace it.” Mace flickered ominously. “Ah, farewell Luke. May the Force be with you.”

Luke stood, “May the Force be with you.” The man smiled softly and slowly dissipated leaving nothing behind as he did so, Luke watching him fade away until there was nothing.

#pro jedi #jedi june #jedi june 2021 #star wars fanfic #fanfic #duna writes #mace windu #luke skywalker #jedi culture

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

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subtlety is a virtue. (haiba lev)

➵ you, the libero of nekoma’s girls team, and lev do a terrible job at keeping your relationship a secret.

wc: 1k

warnings: f!reader is the libero of nekoma’s girl team, some light cursing

a/n: requested by anon! thank you for your patience!

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you that it’s rude to stare?”

Lev’s head whipped around to find Kuroo raising an eyebrow at him.

“I wasn’t staring!”

“It looked that way to me,” Yaku mumbled, exchanging a look with Kuroo.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lev sniffed, crossing his arms and trying to look as resolute as possible. If they found out, they wouldn’t let him live it down. No way.

“Is that so?” That impish grin spread across Kuroo’s face. “So… that’s not the girl I’ve seen you hanging around the gym with, hm?”

“Oh, are you talking about the libero?” Kai came out of seemingly nowhere, that benign smile of his gracing his face. “The one who keeps watching in on our practice?”

“You’re imagining things!” Lev yelped. But he knew that even his ears were red by now.

Truth be told, you hadn’t been very subtle. You and Lev had agreed to keep your relationship secret for ‘reasons’ – to this day, you weren’t quite sure what they were. But you were sure that it had included trying to avoid the teasing of his upperclassmen.

And you were both convinced that you’d done a pretty good job at keeping it all under wraps. You only cut in on their practice sometimes – with a genuine interest in volleyball as your excuse – and you spent most of your time together outside of school. Surely, his upperclassmen wouldn’t have caught onto anything. Even if Lev was terrible at lying.

And he was even worse at not staring at you. Which usually wasn’t a problem.

But today, the aircon in your gym had broken. And it was the middle of an exceedingly hot summer.

And having you there, on the other court, was harder to handle than Lev had anticipated. Not when all he wanted to do was watch you play. Even in the middle of his own game.

“Lev.”

How did you make it look so effortless? Each dive, each save… there was such elegance to it. Even when you were throwing yourself at the ground, you looked cool. And he loved that expression you got when you were focused. And somehow, even with your brow swathed with sweat, you looked ethereal. God, he could watch you play for hours--

“Lev!”

He jumped, head whipping around. Kuroo was glaring at him. Oh no. “Pay attention, would you!?”

“Right!” Lev nodded, turning his attention back to the court. He wasn’t going to stare at you any more today. Nope. Not at all.

Another point to Lev’s side. He sighed, clamping his hands on his knees and bending down a little. Yamamoto was up to serve, right?

A flash in the corner of his eye. His head whipped around, just in time to watch you make a killer save.

Lev’s mouth fell open as he felt a cheer rise in his throat. How were you so damn cool? Oh, wait. He clamped a hand over his mouth. He wasn’t about to interrupt both games because he was just so—

Thwack!

The thump of all six foot five of Lev collapsing into the ground thrummed through the entire gym.

Whoops.

Total pandemonium. But, Lev could barely hear any of it. He was just lying there, face down, wondering how he was going to recover from this one.

Yaku was shouting at him. Lev could detect concern in his voice, but he couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

Oh, that was definitely the thundering of several feet around him. The game had stopped, hadn’t it?

Yep, he was feeling the shame now. Really, really feeling the shame. He couldn’t find the courage to get up. Would his forehead bruise? Would he have a big purple welt on his forehead? Would you still think he was cute?

He was supposed to look cool, and yet here he was, face down on the court with a potentially broken nose. Chances were it wasn’t.

He didn’t really want to find out.

Hands on his back. A flash of bright light.

He was laid on his side, staring at a pair of knees. He glanced upwards.

Oh.

You were looking at him with such concern, such genuine worry. You looked like an angel, your hair haloed by the roof lights.

Someone – not you – was saying something to him. He wasn’t listening. You were too distracting.

You looked up at someone, nodding. How was your side profile stunning? How?

You looked back down at him, pouting. “Where are you right now?”

Lev blinked. “Uh… the gym.”

“What school?”

“Nekoma.” Oh, right. This routine.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

You looked up again. A quick glance told him it was Kuroo. Oh dear. He looked grim.

“Can you sit up?” You asked, tilting your head at him with a cute little frown.

“Yes!” It all came back to him, then. What happened. He shot up, skidding on his knees.

“Woah!” Yaku appeared at his side, holding a firm hand on Lev’s shoulder. “Take it easy.”

“I’m fine!” He barked.

“Sit out for a while,” Kuroo said, hands on his hips. He sighed, turning to look at you. “Could you get him a damp towel?”

You were on your feet, giving him a quick bow. “Yes, of course!”

You dashed off. Lev watched you go with a pout.

“Lev.”

Oh no.

“Hm?” He knew that tone of voice. Kuroo was about to deliver him a reckoning.

“You’re doing a shit job at the whole ‘secret girlfriend’ thing.”

Oh.

“By the way,” Kuroo sighed, “you’re absolutely forbidden from inviting her to games.”

“What!? Why!?”

“Because you can’t focus worth a damn when she’s around! I’m not having you take one of Bokuto’s spikes to the face, you hear me? You’ll die!”

“But Kuroo—”

“No ‘buts’,” he growled. “Besides, get up. Your girlfriend’s waiting.”

Sure enough, you were stood at the side, towel laid over your shoulder and water bottle in hand. Lev scrambled to his feet, dashing over to you as fast as his slightly addled body would allow.

“When’s a girl going to dote on me, huh?” Yaku chuckled, shaking his head.

“Lucky bastard,” Kuroo grinned. “Did he really think he was gonna be able to keep that from us?”

But, neither of them could be all that mad. Not when the two of you were looking at each other with such wholesome adoration.

#haikyuu x reader #lev x reader #lev haiba x reader #haiba lev #haiba lev x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuuwritersnet #he's so kljdfslkdfsj #i always have fun writing him bless up

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starlight-vixen-emiko · 3 years

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Team Miraculous Introduction

Hey all! This is coming out of nowhere.

Basically I had this fanfic chapter about the Lukanette and Adrigami fankids I created becoming the new wielders of the miraculous...And Marinette and Luka’s oldest son becoming the new Ladybug.

I am posting this because @lenoraishere said she wanted to write about him so I felt I may as well post this introduction chapter.

The reason why Halloween is mentioned is because this is an introduction chapter to a Halloween fanfic I wrote last year...Speaking of which that fanfic is still in my files and I do intend to finish it and publish it once Halloween rolls around. Soon my darlings!

So anyways I hope you guys enjoy...This was my first time writing fankids and I will be humble and say this may not be the best introduction.

I hope you enjoy it Lenora...Believe me this doesn’t count as your birthday gift I have something better planned. Then again I realize your birthday is fast approaching and I have lost track of time! Eep!

~~~~~

My name is Leon Couffaine-Cheng. If you haven't heard of me, I am the son of Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Luka Couffaine, otherwise known as Ladybug and Viperion, the protectors of Paris.

The best protectors in the world. But shortly after I turned 15, my mom told me she felt a "sign from the Miraculous box" or something. I still remember it. It seemed like a typical day with my parents and little sisters. Then my mom gave me a devious smile and showered me with compliments when I just wanted to go to school early.

She told me that the box chose me to be the newer holder of the Ladybug Miraculous.

I just didn't get it. I mean, being a superhero sounds cool and all. Still, I don't know why I, in particular, was chosen to be the Ladybug. Or, as much as Tikki disagrees, I call myself Luckybug.

I figured my 13-year-old sister Marina was more suited. She is a fiery tomboy with electric blue hair and long pigtails, and she can skate and bike through anything. But my dad smiled at her and said she was chosen to carry the snake miraculous, Sass. Which she happily accepted.

Then there is my youngest sister Melanie. A beautiful little 9-year-old girl, kind-hearted, mature, helps around the house, and likes to bake sweets.

I figured Melanie would be the new Ladybug since she is Ladybug's biggest fan. She was super close to her Ladybug dolls when she was younger.

But recently, Melanie discovered a connection to the mouse miraculous.

I figured if this whole Ladybug thing did not work out for me, my little sister could take her place. But my parents are already protective of her and would prefer she not be a superhero until she is older.

It was too much for me to take, and I just wanted to go to school and have a typical day with my friends.

I met up with my best friend Masamori first.

Masamori Tsurugi-Agreste. Son of Adrien Agreste and Kagami Tsurugi. Also known as Chat Noir and Ryuuko.

They are the second greatest heroes of Paris, as much as Uncle Adrien and Aunt Kagami hate it when I say that.

Masamori lit up as usual when he saw me and said. "You'll never guess Leon! My mother told me that I was called by the dragon kwami Long!"

Long floated out of Masa's necklace and greeted me with a bow.

I looked at Masa straight in the eye with a sullen face.

"Leon, what's wrong?" Masa yelped.

I was about to open my mouth, and then Tikki appeared in front of me.

"I have been chosen to be Leon's partner!" Tikki said.

Masamori was overjoyed, but I couldn't help but vent to him about how this was a lot to take in. I question why I was chosen instead of Melanie.

We sat on a bench, and Masa gave me a pep talk. "This is a huge responsibility Leon, but I believe you can take it. There is a bigger reason for this, and weirder things have happened!"

As we walked through the crowd of students, I suddenly became self-conscious about the earrings I had to wear.

I covered my ears and said, "My dad can make earrings work, but I can't."

"You never looked better, Leon!" Masamori said.

I groaned under my breath and continued walking.

And then, just when I thought I could catch my breath.

"Leon! Take a look!" Masa said.

Up ahead was the recent transfer student Jinfeng. A beautiful Chinese girl with shiny long hair.

Now I felt even more self-conscious. I just wanted to hide my ears and run away. But I dropped my bag mid-escape and had no choice but to grab it. I had no idea Jinfeng was behind me.

"Leon," she said in a voice that made my heart skip a beat. "I love those earrings. They really suit you."

I turned out of politeness and tried to keep a benign expression, but I felt a big drop of sweat on my forehead and the back of my neck.

"Thank you for saying that!" I blurted out.

I realized it was a bit more frantic than I expected since she stepped back, looking a bit concerned.

Masamori gave me a bit of a push to get away.

"Come on, Leon, we have to head back to class!" Masamori cried.

After school, we met up with my sister Marina and Masamori's 13-year-old younger sister Erina. She is a blonde-haired Japanese-French girl, like someone out of an anime.

She spent nearly an entire summer in Japan and was lucky Marina was still best friends with her. She became the holder of the black cat miraculous. Sometimes we would team up, like my mom and Uncle Adrien teaming up back in the day, and I would joke about her being a cute kitty. Which she replied with, "Shut up, Bug Boy!"

"You're really good at scaring off girls with your cold demeanor, Lee-Kun!" Erina said.

Marina and Erina playfully laughed at my romance issues. Marina and Erina always caused mischief together. At least I had Masamori to get me out of mischief.

"Well, Erina and I are going to hang out tonight," Marina said.

Marina walked away with a skateboard in hand, and Erina had her kendo sword.

"I am not covering for you tonight!" I said.

Marina groaned and shrugged. "Fine!" She spat.

Masamori joined me in walking back to my house, where, as expected, my sister Melanie was watching movies with Masamori's youngest brother, Aiden Tsurugi-Agreste.

A boy mature for his age despite being only 9. Since Agreste-san and Tsurugi-san are usually busy with work, Aiden usually spends time here with Melanie. The two are inseparable friends watching movies here and making baked goods.

Melanie and Aiden looked at us as we came in.

"Hi Mel Mel," I said. "Hi, Aiden."

Melanie lit up. "Big brother!" She held her adorable little hands up. "I am so happy you're home safe. I hope nothing dangerous happened."

I sighed. "Nothing happened today, Mels." Just the way I like it.

"Luckybug is the great new hero of Paris!" Melanie said triumphantly. "Just like Mama was!" Melanie looked so incredibly starstruck.

Aiden smiled. "Yeah, it was great how you saved our school from The Food Fighter."

All I remember from that is bananas in my hair and stepping in gross puddles of spinach.

"I can take you home now, Aiden," Masamori said.

Aiden crossed his arms. "Five more minutes!"

Surprisingly Aiden hasn't felt a connection to a kwami. Which I guess isn't a terrible thing since Aiden is such a good boy, and I can't imagine him fighting anyone. But he is still an honorary member of Team Miraculous, so he deserves mention. That and he has been so good to my beloved younger sister.

Why am I bringing this up, you may ask? Because this Halloween is our first Halloween being miraculous holders. I just hope no weird Halloween akumatization happens that night. I just want to spend Halloween with my friends and my family. That isn't too much to ask for, right?!

"Mel-Chan!" Aiden cried. "I wonder what Halloween is going to be like for Team Miraculous."

Melanie smiled at Aiden as if she was just as excited over the idea. "Maybe the streets will be filled with walking skeletons, talking pumpkins, and ghosts Ai-Kun!"

I was flabbergasted! Melanie and Aiden treated this like this was a fun Halloween episode of a cartoon.

Akumas can make any event weird and freaky, and I am nervous just thinking about what could happen on Halloween night. It could be a scarier Halloween night than we could ever imagine.

Author’s Note: I apologize if this isn’t perfect. Honestly I didn’t care as much about making this pitch perfect because I wasn’t planning on publishing it on my ao3.

But yes I was considering writing a next generation fanfic.....Of course that sounds a bit nervewracking to me.

Yes there is a bit of a history repeats itself thing going on with Leon having a highschool crush...Granted recently I decided to make Leon bi and give him a male love rival as well but in this fanfic I couldn’t find a way to put the male love rival in just yet so I left that part out.

#pro lukamari #lukanette #adrigami #well ok adrien and kagami aren't present here sorry!#they will be present in the halloween fanfic though #endgame lukanette #endgame adrigami #lukanette fankids #adrigami fankids #my writing #my fanfiction

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

Text

Queen of Masks ~ Alfie Solomons

Life as a woman, in any country really, isn’t the best, unless you score a jackpot with the most gentle, sweetest man and you become his housewife and agree to be some kind of baby factory and a maid, should he not have enough to provide for one, and a chef, nonetheless.

However, there are enough ambitious women who have enough spite in their veins to trample over anyone standing in their path of success, and would spit on graves and crush cadavers under their heeled boots that they wear with much pride and conviction.

That is exactly the case of Y/N, a gorgeous woman who won against all odds and became a Veterinary Physician in London, Camden, to be precise, and had to work under an older man who had a clinic - But it was fine, she got to learn loads, and interacting with animals on a daily basis was enough to keep her going and not to answer to any provocation from her male colleague who was far inferior to her, intellectually and intuitively speaking.

And one day, after tending to a gorgeous black race stallion, a tall and broad man walked in with a Bullmastiff boy who, upon seeing her, managed to snatch away his chain leash and jumped on her, trampling her to the ground and licking her all over her face.

The man jumped in shock, trying to pry away his pet from the poor woman, only to notice she was laughing and that he face was bright like the sun, as she tried to wipe away all the slobber from her face.

“I’m so sorry, aye, he’s never done somethin’ like this before. Here, let me help you up, right.” the man extended his hand for her to take, helping raise her up, then reprimanded his dog. “Don’t worry, mister, it’s quite alright. I kinda like when animals act so affectionate, it makes it feel as if I’m doing something right. What’s your name, darling? Let’s get you up on the table...Arghh...What a heavy baby...You’re gonna break every bone in my body...” the woman sweet talked the dog, struggling to hold him in her arms like a baby so she could put in on the table to examine. “He’s name’s Cyril, I got him last year. ‘S just a routine check up, but I think there’s a bump on his neck, yeah, right here.” the man explained, letting the girl palpate his dog and continuing to sweet talk him to calm him down. “Thyroid Carcinoma.” the male doctor spoke, which made the girl whip her head to him with a disturbed look. “Thyroid Cancer? Surely, you must be joking. Have you even been to Vet school?!” Y/N protested, shaking her head in protest at his sudden diagnosis. “What else could a bump in the thyroid area mean? Don’t play smart, just be humble and accept when you’re wrong.” the man rolled his eyes, not lifting his head from his papers. “First of all, even if it IS a tumour, it doesn’t HAVE to be cancer, it can still be completely harmless, thus, benign. Secondly, out of all tumours a dog can have, thyroid cancer is the least common one, the percentage going to maximum 2%. Therefore, NOT cancer! Besides, it could be hyperthyroidism, if you want to go over the top, but again, it could just be something the owner felt because something got stuck in his neck and-....Oh.” the girl then carefully touched the neck area, and smiled widely, looking down, nodding to herself. “What? You shut up ‘cause you finally realised I was right, despite your useless statistics?” the doctor grumbled in annoyance, not caring, obviously. “Wanna bet 100 pounds that it’s not cancer?” she asked, kissing Cyril’s head and playing with his floppy ears, action which made the dog bark playfully. “Ah, sorry, mister, I didn’t ask for your name and whether you find it insensitive or not for us to bet on a diagnosis.” she smiled awkwardly, extending her hand towards the bearded man who was watching the interaction carefully. “Alfie Solomons, lass, but call me just Alfie, right? So, yeah, ‘s fine, bet all you want, just make my boy better, eh?” Alfie shook the girl’s hand, seeing her cunningly going to the other doctor and spitting in her hand to shake and make the bet go through. “Okay, Alfie, you might want to step to the side a bit...If you value your shoes, that it. They look pretty new.” she chuckled softly, signing him with her head to move to the side, and so he did, as she made the dog vomit, and thus, revealing a small ball. “Oi, I can’t believe it! You stupid dog, Cyril, aye, how could you manage to swallow your own toy, yeah?!” Alfie gasped, his brows furrowing from shock. “Weirdly enough, dogs, especially big ones, are prone to swallowing little things, just like human babies are. It was small enough to just make him cough, but it’s a good thing you got him here in time.” the girl started quickly cleaning up the floor as she explained everything, as the Jew was still staring in shock at the idiocy of some animals. “Well, lass, thank you for solving the mystery, yeah, of whatever the hell this was, right. So, then, tell me how much I have to pay you for this consult, aye.” Alfie asked, which made her snap her head upwards, looking up at him, her eyes wide in shock. “No, God, no, nothing, it’s on me! I mean, if it weren’t for you...” Y/N smirked, reminding Alfie of a vixen, as she twirled around and went to snatch away the hundred pounds banknotes from her employer’s hand, who was looking at her with anger and bitterness. “I wouldn’t have been paid more than I’m paid in 3 months in just one day! It’s the least I can do to thank you...And to also see Cyril again, because I think it’s a connection. Right, Cyril? You’re such a sweet baby boy-....ARGH, GODS, NO-...!” but before the girl could compose herself, Cyril jumped on her torso, knocking her down again, coating her face in yet another sleek coat of drool from the lickings. “Damn it, Cyril, you’re impossible! Let the poor lass live, eh? I know, I know, she’s pretty, but leave her alone, alright?” after he finally managed to pry away the canine, he helped the girl up, who, once again, was laughing. “Let me make it up to you, yeah, for all the trouble this prankster’s been giving you, right. I’ve this bakery, y’know, the one nearby, so, anything you want, yeah, anything, you ask for it, you say my name, right, you say Alfie owes you a favour, and it’s all on the house, eh. How’s that.” he spoke, and he could see that her overly confident and extra demeanour shattered in an instant, making her look down, her beautiful, long hair hiding her features, as she was most likely blushing and smiling. “O-Oh, then, if that’s your bakery, means I’ve heard of you, you’re THE Alfie Solomons. Yeah, I’d love that, if you’d have me, but I told you, you don’t have to. I used you to get money worth of about 3 months, or more, so really, I should be thanking you somehow, but I don’t really have anything else to offer, other than to pay for the consult myself.” her serious, boastful voice turned very soft and shy, as fast as the flick of her fingers, as she walked him out of the clinic, so only he would hear. “Your boss there...He seemed kinda...Angry, eh. Are you gonna be fine dealing with him, lass?” he asked, bending down a bit, speaking to her tone level. “I guess. What’s the worst he can do, anyway. Besides, I care more about this conversation right now, and...About this.” she smirked softly, showing off the rolled pounds from her coat’s chest pocket. “So, Mr. Gangster, is there any specific time you’d be okay with me coming by the bakery? Maybe...Under the pretext of yet another regular check up on Cyril? Or...The smell of freshly baked cookies just captured me enough to find myself senselessly walking into the place?” she asked, diving her hands into her pockets, waiting for an answer, too timid to look him in the eye. “Ahhh, I see you’ve heard of me. Well, lass, I guess I can’t pretend to be some ordinary man, right, but maybe we can still enjoy a nice chat once in a while, eh, it would be nice, right?” the corner of Alfie’s mouth turned upwards, extending his hand for her to shake. “Y/N L/N, it’s great meeting you, Alfie. And yeah, it would be great. I’ll be seeing you around, alright? Hope I’ll see you soon and maybe we can have a nice cup of tea and anything that you’ve baked. I’m looking forward to that.” she shook his hand, smiling brightly at him, gesture which he turned. “And I’ll be seeing you as well, sweetheart.” with that, she kissed Cyril’s head once again, before waving Alfie goodbye and walking back into the clinic. “And I’ll be seeing you too...Y/N.” the gangster muttered, grinning at his dog and praising him with a few pats on his head. “Cyril, my boy, you’re my lucky charm.”

A week passed, and Y/N walked into the bakery - However, it wasn’t the front up, the bakery shop that smelled heavenly - It meant the gangster warehouse where Alfie would usually conduct his business meetings. And, of course, it was shocking to him when heard the click of heels and saw a beautiful, slender woman, dressed in high-waisted pants, with a black turtleneck tucked in her pants, beautiful brown leather boots with heels and a black trench coat that elegantly, yet imposingly hung from her shoulders, as if she was some kind of mafia Queen - Elegant, but deadly.

“Hello, Alfie. I heard you have a job around this place. Not sure what it is...Medic? Secretary? Dog-walker? Maybe you could fill me in.” she asked, her hands in her pants, fidgeting in her spot. “Where’ve you heard about this...Supposed job, eh, lass? And why’d you quit your job from the clinic, eh?” he asked, his fingers intertwining as he leaned forward, elbows rested on his desk. “Ah, well...Y’know...I got my medical license pulled, so I need a way to make money, and you’re the only one that I trusted not to treat me like garbage, so here I am. I know there’s no job, but I had to try my luck and be comedic in a way. It’s probably about the only thing I’m good at, sort of. It’s fine if you don’t want to give me a job, I mean, you can’t trust me with your business info after just speaking to me once, I can imagine, and - “ she kept on ranting, until Alfie raised both his hands in the air to calm her down and stop her speaking, before he raised to his feet, getting in front of the desk and leaning back on it. “Well, I did owe you a favour, right, so, sure, you’re hired, right, I’ll find you something. While we’re at it, can you, yeah, can you fire a gun?” he asked, with a mix of seriousness and playfulness in his voice. “Is it...In the job requirements?” she asked, looking around the place with a fake kind of curiosity. “There’s no job seeking, yeah, so, therefore, no job requirements. I was just being curious, alright, y’know, I have to know what everyone around is capable of, okay.” he explained, which made her smirk and turn on her heel to look at him. “That’s only fair. After all, now that you know that I’m particularly incapable of defending myself against people in general, you’ll just have to be extra careful to keep me safe, right, Alfie? We wouldn’t want Cyril to grieve over me, would we?” she chuckled, extending her arms to her side in a dramatic manner. “Haha, yes, lass, I s’ppose you’re right. Can you handle more than one job, eh? I can hire you as a physician, right, but we don’t always have wounded men, yeah, so, you’re a smart woman, alright, I’m sure you are very capable of reading, writing, doing calculus and other stuff that involves using your head, right, so, I don’t know what name will this job have, but, maybe an assistant of sort, eh? Ollie here helps me out a lot, yeah, but he can’t do everything, he ain’t some God, y’know.” Alfie gesticulated, pointing towards Ollie, then tried to explain to her that things are serious, and not to be taken lightly. “Guess this is gonna be the thrill of my life, huh? I’m in, Alfie. At least I can get along with you without fearing having my license pulled-...Oh, wait, I have nothing to fear about anymore.” she chuckled in a self-deprecating way, making Alfie cross his arms to his chest. “You never told me what happened. Go on, tell me. I’m sure you didn’t kill a dog, or somethin’, you’re too smart a doctor to fuck up.” his curiosity got the better of him, as he saw her turning to look at him, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape, and he could almost see her brain gears moving, trying to think of a witty answer. “Didn’t you say something about freshly baked goodies and tea? I bet that’s gonna be a much more...Hospitable way of chatting with your new employee, wouldn’t it? Or better said, friendlier? I mean, this place is so...Ugly and humid...Only good for gangster business. The echo here, if you shout, can intimidate anyone, I’m sure. Come on, show me the actual bakery...And you better have a gramophone. I like music.” she smiled up at him, hooking her arm to his, pulling him in a random direction to urge him to guide her to the bakery, where the beautiful smell of bread and cookies mesmerised her, and she playfully swooned in her chair. “I see you’re enjoying this place very much, eh. Well, can’t say I expected you coming today, so I didn’t bake them myself, yeah, but I’ll make it up to you. Sure you want tea and not rum or somethin’?” Alfie asked, a bit awkward staying at the cute little table, with a cute, little cup of tea in his bear-like hands. “Yes, I’m quite sure, Alfie. But it’s fine, you don’t have to drink what I’m drinking, I won’t think of you any differently. In your home, you do as you please.” she chuckled at him, watching as he nodded solemnly, only to down that tea in one go, small droplets of liquid embedding themselves in his beard. “Right, right, I understand, y’er a people pleaser, you want everyone to like you, unless it goes against whatever scheme you have. You’re smart, alright. Very smart, and you’ve sharp eyes, and are cunning. I need someone like you around, yeah. But tell me, how’d you manage to lose your dream job in a week?” Alfie asked, extending his hand to gently grab her chin, pulling it so he could peer right into her gorgeous, vixen-like eyes. “Remember the bet I did when you came around with Cyril? Well, apparently that jerk got mad at me for, to quote, steal his money, so he filed a malpractice lawsuit to get his money back, 5 times more, and pulled away my license, to get revenge on me for humiliating him in front of a customer...Allegedly. Very petty, I know, but, as they say...C’est la vie. Not much to do about it, really. Now I’m seen as a con-artist thief who kills animals, so I have no way of getting a job anywhere anymore, hence why I’m here. Lovely, innit?” she snorted as she took a bit of the cookie, closing her eyes to savour it’s flavour. “And now, I think I died and went to heaven, ‘cause this is the best thing I’ve eaten in my life.” “You’re so hired, lass. Did ya pay the 500 pounds?” he asked, propping his jaw on his hand. “Yeah, thankfully. And by that, I mean I to sell my apartment so now I’m using my saving to stay at a cheap hotel, but, y’know, life’s life. At least I know I won and I was right. Maybe if I had the right connections, I could have won 10 times what I lost...But what do I know. I don’t really know how non-legal things go by.” she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her head in a playfully guilty manner. “Y’know, Y/N...I think we can solve that fairly quick, yeah. Tell me the name, and I’ll make sure things are sold. In the meantime, I’ve a nice, warm room where you can stay, right, and surely, Cyril’s gonna love your company.” Alfie smiled at her, signaling for her to follow him.

At that time, she had no idea this was actually his home, but when she did find out, she was more than grateful, if not, a bit awkward, for having to rely so much on his kindness. However, just as he promised, Alfie managed to get that jerk of a doctor to pay her 10 times the money she paid him, and thus, she would have been able to get a very modern and luxurious place, only for herself, and even buy a dog, a cat, or hell, more of them.

But she refused, and asked to continue staying with him, if she wasn’t too much of a burden, since she really enjoyed spending time with him, and she had no idea, other than working 200% of her capabilities for her job, whatever that was, at the moment, and, of course, she would have missed Cyril too much.

It didn’t take long for Alfie’s people to realise the obvious chemistry between the two, and Ollie kept trying to convince him to ask her out, but things are always so difficult, aren’t they? Business and logics are much easier than subjective emotions.

It became sort of a routine for everyone around to see their boss writing and reading documents at his desk, while Y/N would sit on the desk, her legs resting on his chair’s back rest, as she would write on her clipboard whatever relevant things she thought were worth noting down, and would occasionally express her opinions regarding ideas that Alfie had, or some businesses that he was dealing with at the moment - All that, with, of course, the frequent witty comments they would exchange - And it was never anything hurtful, or reproachful jabs, only playful and domestic comments that always made her laugh.

“You never told me why you always look down when you interact with people, y’know, and by that, I don’t mean when you’re being some dramatic Queen, but when you’re being yourself. I mean, I haven’t seen women who let their hair so long these days, right, so I was curious about you. You do things much differently than most people, y’know that, don’t you?” Alfie asked, raising his head to look up at her, only to see, once again, trying to think of how to explain things that don’t rely on rational and objective behaviours. “Ah...Well...Uh...Y’know...I’m...My face is very expressive, y’know. So, like...I get embarrassed easily, or...Uhm...When I lie, or something, I tend to grin or laugh. I’m a messy failure who can’t do a pokerface, like, ever, so, since most people are taller than me, if I let my hair cover my face, they won’t see the truth. Or, well, y’know, at least that’s what I hope. I can’t look at them while hiding, so I’ve no way of telling whether it works or not. Contrary to me being flashy and dramatic, I’m kinda shy and terrible around people.” she chuckled awkwardly, looking away from him, bringing up her clipboard to cover half of her face. “Ahhh, I see, I see, so you go to real great lengths, yeah, to get what you want, and so far, you’ve done really well, eh. Is there anything you can’t do, lass? You’ve been doing this job for over a year, and business has improved with...Uh...Lemme see, how much did you say...Ah, yes, here, it says 23%.” he had his glasses on as his eyes scanned the documents on his desk. “I...Can’t socialise, I guess. And I can’t relax. I don’t know how to have fun. Uhm...I can’t human, I guess? I don’t know what to call it, but I think you get what I’m saying. Anyway, we have business work now, so read this paragraph here, I think we have to talk threaten Sabini a bit, he’s over his head now with power, someone has to humble him, give us a better percentage of his business, and -” Y/N tried to quickly redirect the conversation, hating when she had to talk about herself, but obviously, she couldn’t say no to the man who was always so kind and sweet with her, could she? “Nahhh, it’s fine, Y/N, let’s take a little break, right? We’ve been working since early morning, it’s evening now. Ollie, go make tea and bring those treats made today, eh. Now, lass, why don’t you tell me how did you get around to practicing medicine? I’ve always been curious by that, you know, you don’t see many women unafraid of stuff like that, yeah.” he pointed out, letting himself fall down on his chair’s seat, looking up at her. “Y’know, Y/N, you say you can hide your emotions when you hide your face from people taller than you, yeah? But what happens when they look at you from below? Gotta say, Y/N, sometimes, your worried face is rather pretty...Better now, let me look at you when you speak, yeah, we’re equals, when you go all meek on me, you make me feel like some kind o’ merciless boss or somethin’.” he chuckled, raising a bit to put her hair behind her ears, revealing a soft blush coating her cheeks, and god damn, he could feel his heart beating a bit faster. “Uhm...Okay, fine, sure, I owe you that much. Uhm...My dad was a medic too, so it became a family business for a while. And, uhm...Dad was recruited as a war medic, and went with my brother, while I and mum continued to take care of the people and animals from our city. When it was all over, I decided to get to London to practice properly, get more money and provide for my family better. They’re getting old and they need someone to take care of them, somehow.” she explained, but her eyes were darting around, and he could feel she was still hiding something because of her hesitance, but he wasn’t sure what exactly was it that she was trying to hide.

But before either of them could say anything about it anymore, a loud bang echoed through the warehouse, somewhere from the entrance, which made the girl jump in her place with a mouse-like squeak, slapping her hands over her ears.

It’s true, any person would get frightened by a gunshot that resounded so loudly through that place - And yet, this one looked like a panicked, scared fawn in the headlights - And Alfie, of course, noticed that and came to a few conclusions for himself.

However, before he could say anything, a man entered their field of vision, and he could feel Y/N tensing up, her face showing shock and disgust at the person who she clearly recognise. She turned her head to look at Alfie, and with pleading eyes, mouthing a few simple words that may or may not have shocked him.

“Let me kill him” she tried to say, but this mystery man spoke out faster than expected, and it was clear she was getting more and more angry and embarrassed by the moment. “Y/N, darling, what are you doing here? Whoring around with other men, getting into illicit business, thinking you’re superior to men just because you have some over the top ambitions that are completely unreachable, and now you think you can get rich by staying around wealthy old men, huh?” the man kept speaking, igniting an infernal fire into her eyes. “Alfie, I pride myself with my never ending patience, but I swear to God, if you don’t let me kill him...I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Y/N muttered between her gritted teeth, shocking Alfie since he never saw her as the violent type. “I’m not doing any business with him, alright, do what you feel like doing, Y/N, he’s all yours.” Alfie sat back in his chair, his fingers intertwined over his stomach, watching with interest whatever she was going to do.

Y/N jumped off the desk and slowly prowled around it, her head hanging low, before she snapped it up, glaring lightnings at the man.

“Fuck off. Now. Or you’re dead. Do you understand this simple language, or do I need to put it in words that even a monkey would understand?” she crossed her arms, spitting poison at him. “What, can’t I be angry at my own girlfriend for being a bitch and leaving me alone? I mean, you really fucked up, y’know? You left me when I needed you the most, how tragic is that?!” he yelled at her, but she only rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Yeah, I left you ‘cause you were abusing me. The way I see it, you’re the one who sucks, not me. Now get the hell out of here. Before I do something you will regret.” her voice went an octave lower, threatening him the same way she learnt from Alfie over the time of business making. “Woaw, Y/N, woaw, that’s pathetic, even for you. You’ve never been able to even raise your voice at anyone. You were nothing more than a crybaby who couldn’t step up to anyone, and then you went to war, and what, you think you changed? You didn’t! Underneath this dumb, tough facade that you’re trying to pull in front of everyone else, you’re nothing more than the frightened little girl who needed to have everything in control and grasp a bit of power to feel superior to others after you got beaten up and had a gun pointed at your head by the Germa-” but he couldn’t continue speaking for, in the blink of an eye, she pulled out a gun for her trench coat and shot him in the head, his blood and brains shooting everywhere, all over her, on the walls and floor. “Well...Ask me anything and I will provide you with an answer that is completely honest this time. But, uhm...Take of your shirt, will you?” she had a solemn, pissed off expression as she threw off her coat before hurriedly taking off her shirt, nonchalantly cleaning up her face, then pulling it into a ball, throwing it on the cadaver, then stepped in front of a very shocked, yet impressed Alfie. “Go on, take off your shirt, will you? It’s clean. You promised I’ll never have to shoot a gun, and yet, I did, therefore I need a clean top, right? So, while I tell you the truth, don’t let me stay like this in front of you, okay?” extending her hand in front of her, while her other arm was over her chest, trying to cover her pretty white laced bra, it took a mirthful laugh out of the Jew for him to finally take off his shirt and put it around her, not caring that he was the topless one now. “Will you ever stop impressing and surprising me, lass?” Alfie asked, petting her head as a way to say she did well. “Once I stop shocking myself, sure. Until then...I believe you want to say something, don’t you?” she asked, slowly stepping in front of him, looking up at him as she properly put on his shirt that looked like a dress on her. “Yeah, lass, I think I did.”

With a gentle smile, he cupped her face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her lips, one hand stroking his fingers through her beautiful long hair, while the other caressed her soft visage. The tender look in his blue-green eyes felt like the safest, warmest haven she ever felt, and with an impulse decision that her heart made, she leaned forward, her arms slowly snaking around his torso, her head resting on his shoulder, and closing her eyes, she could finally feel her heart calming, for the first time in her life.

“It was you who went to war, wasn’t it?” Alfie muttered in her hair, holding her tightly. “Yeah. I don’t have a brother. It was me who went with my father to war, but he died, so I had to be the backbone of the troops. When I got home, my mum was devastated and she died of grief. I left that place to get rid of memories...And get rid of that fuckass. War left me with traumas, but it also made me strong enough to face up to who I am and stop taking everyone’s shit just because they think I’m lesser than them. Sometimes...When you talk about your time as a captain...I remember my time there...And...I realise how much I respect you...And also, how different you are from all the people I had contact with there.” she explained, her grip tightening around him, her heart quivering from the deep emotions she was feeling. “You’ve been through quite a lot in your life, haven’t you, lass? And you managed to make a life all for yourself, from the scratch, right, so, I think you’ve been doing great. France?” he asked, guiding her to a more private room, much warmer and cozier, while Ollie was to find him another shirt. “Yeah, France. Thing is...You went through all that, and it was worse for you, since you were a Captain, and you must have felt responsible for every death from your troops...And yet...Ever since we met, you’ve been sweeter than anyone has ever been, and that includes my own family. Don’t get me wrong, I loved them, but maybe...Maybe I’m just a bit softer than I let others think. And you managed to hit the right spot, in the good way, I mean. War changes everyone, and yet, you’re...I have no fitting word to describe how much I appreciate you, Alfie, but here...This thing here feels it, and I think you can feel what I’m feeling too.” she explained, resting her head on his shoulder once they sat down on the sofa, as he pulled her closer to his side, kissing her temple lovingly. “You know, Y/N...You’re not wrong. I tried not to think about my time there and the horrors I’ve seen, yeah, so, maybe it doesn’t come off as anything fantastic, and I still don’t think that being a decent person, right, to people who are close to me, is a big deal. But maybe sometimes we take things for granted, don’t we, so, maybe, you’re right. But that guy has no excuse for being a bastard. You’re safe now, Y/N, and when some day, when we’re done with this gangster mess...We can go to Margate and live a normal life there, eh. You, me and Cyril, and the sandy beach and the waves, right, and maybe, if we get bored, we can shoot those damned seagulls, yeah? They’re so annoying, I’m telling ya!” Alfie chuckled, which, in turn, made her grin at him lovingly. “I’d love to go to Margate with you, Alfie, and have seagull shooting contests together, and run barefoot on the shore, and if it’s enough light from the moon, we can swim a bit. Sounds like the perfect life if you ask me.” Y/N kissed his cheek, lovingly caressing his face before hugging his side. “That’s what I like to hear, lass. I’m sure Cyril would bark like a mad dog from happiness if he was hear, right. S’gonna be fun when we get home, eh.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders

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