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puppy-steve · 7 months

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Between discovering the Russian bunker under Starcourt, discovering their plans to get into the Upside Down, being caught by said Russians and tortured, after making sure Dustin and Erica got out of there, Steve was confident that this was an isolated incident.

Hopper had assured them that El had closed the gate at Hawkins Lab, saw it with his own eyes. So maybe if they (he, Robin, Dustin, and Erica) dealt with this one on their own, it wouldn’t be so bad. There were no monsters this time, at least.

Steve had naive hope that the others wouldn’t have to get involved.

But as the four of them are chased through the mall by a big guy with a gun, Steve and Robin still coming down from a truth serum high, his hope turns into dread.

Because a show car is suddenly flung from the floor and into the group of Russians that have them cornered behind a counter in the food court, and there’s only one person he knows with the ability to do that.

They all slowly peer over the counter, and sure enough, El is standing at the forefront, her hand extended in front of her and her nose bleeding. The other kids plus Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie are with her. Steve’s stomach drops and the nauseating feeling from earlier is back, but it’s not from the drugs this time.

Eddie makes a beeline toward him and Robin while Dustin greets the others with enthusiasm, Erica a little starstruck over El.

“What the hell happened?” Eddie demands, eyes flitting frantically all over Steve’s face and taking in the worst of the damage. Steve knows he must look like shit– he can’t see that great out of his left eye and that whole side of his face has gone numb.

Billy bashing his face in last year has nothing on the pain he’s feeling now.

“It’s a long story,” Steve says as he leans heavily into Eddie’s space. Eddie’s hands land on his shoulders and he holds him gently, like he’s afraid of hurting him even more. “I’ll tell you after this is all over.”

“Steve–”

“Teddy.” Steve pulls back and looks him in the eye, as well as he can. He must have not puked everything out of his system like Robin thought because he still feels a little giddy when he reaches up and taps Eddie on the nose. “Later. I promise.”

There’s really no time to say anything else because Robin and Erica need to be brought up to speed about everything and he and Dustin need to be caught up on what’s happening now, and when they are, Steve desperately wishes that it was just the Russians they had to deal with.

Help comes in the form of Hopper, Ms. Byers, and a balding man that Steve’s never met. While they’re all squabbling and trying to come up with a half baked plan, Eddie finds a first aid kit in one of the kitchens and makes Steve sit on a counter so he can try to patch him up. They don’t speak, but Steve grips Eddie’s unoccupied hand while Eddie stands close between his legs.

There isn’t much time between then and everybody splitting off into groups. Scoops Troop plus Eddie all pile into the TODFTHR (“You sure you’re her daddy, sweetheart?” Eddie teases with a smirk and Steve’s glad the bruising hides his blush.)

Everything gets a little fuzzy after they leave the kids at Weathertop. When he’s asked later, he’ll say he remembers hearing that song from that one movie, but he’s not sure if it actually happened. He’s so hyped up on adrenaline, it’s probably the only thing keeping him conscious.

Steve doesn’t remember making the decision to t-bone Billy’s car, but he does remember the horrific scene inside the mall; the Mindflayer screeching and its tentacle-like appendages swinging this way and that. He remembers pelting it with explosives to distract it from attacking El. He looks down and his stomach lurches when he sees the monster go straight through Billy’s chest.

He hears Eddie let out a strangled curse beside him and Steve has to ignore the bile rising in his throat. He knows there’s been casualties; Barb in ‘83, Ms. Byers’ boyfriend last year, however many people the Mindflayer had killed this year.

This is the first death he’s ever seen in person.

He’s still reeling from it when Owens and the military swarm the building once the monster is finally defeated. They’re all pulled in separate directions for medical attention and questioning. Steve feels downright miserable, sitting in the back of an ambulance with Robin, a shock blanket over his shoulders. He squeezes her hand and gives her a small smile.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” he says.

Robin takes a shaky breath. “Yeah. I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of it. I think for once in my life, I’m speechless.”

Eddie finds them after he’s been looked over and Steve opens his arms to pull him in for a hug, wrapping both of them in the blanket. Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and Steve sags against him. They take a moment to breathe each other in, basking in the fact that they’re both alive.

“They want to take us to the hospital,” Steve says. “They’re pretty sure I have a concussion but they want to run tests to make sure there isn’t any other damage.” He nods to Robin. “And they wanna keep us under 24 hour observation 'cause of the drugs.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, eyes sliding shut.

Steve frowns and uses the corner of the blanket to brush against Eddie’s cheek comfortingly. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a grimace. “This probably wasn’t how you were expecting to spend your birthday.”

Eddie turns his head and kisses his fingers. “No, baby,” he says. “Absolutely nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Had me and Wayne worried sick when you didn’t come home last night, though. I was close to callin’ Hopper when Lucas started screaming code red over the radio.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about how that probably worried them even more. “Your present’s in my car,” he says instead. “You can’t have it until I’m discharged, though. I wanna see your face when you open it.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “That just makes me even more curious, sweetheart.”

He pinches Steve’s side playfully, but gently. Steve stifles a giggle and leans into him more, very aware of how Robin’s watching them like a hawk.

“No peeking,” Steve warns, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face. “It’s a surprise.”

Eddie only nips at his finger. Steve doesn’t even blink. Sighing, Eddie releases his finger and marks a cross over his heart. “I promise I won’t do any snooping.”

Steve pats his cheek. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a shit liar, Munson?”

They break into giggles, their heads bent forward, and Eddie would’ve leaned in for a kiss if it weren’t for Robin clearing her throat rather loudly. Steve curls into Eddie’s front, Eddie’s arm going around his shoulders. God, he’d give anything to be at home and asleep in their bed.

“I’m still very confused about this whole thing,” Robin says, waving a hand in their direction. “I just fought a monster from a whole other dimension, but this is probably the biggest shocker of my life.”

“Strange things follow this group around like a shadow,” Eddie says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. And for him, it is. “You better get used to it, Buckley, 'cause you’re one of us now.”

written and originally posted for @flowercrowngods birthday 🤍 dio is an absolute treasure and a great friend to have and is my #1 gseb stan. happy belated birthday!!! 💙

🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee?

#cj talks #gseb #steddie #steddie ficlet #dio 🤍#steddie fic #cj writes

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y-rhywbeth2 · 7 months

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D&D Vampire Lore Dump #1

Feeding and Diet It's actually more complicated than just "they bite you and eat your blood." Plus what they're able to eat; how often they need to eat; what happens to you if they bite you and what happens to them if they don't feed- spoiler: it's unpleasant. Incidentally, you should reload and kill Cazador again.

(I was comparing stuff across editions and compiling it into something more coherent and then figured I'd info dump about it in case my fixations are useful to somebody out there.)

DISCLAIMER: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.

The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest.

Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.

Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology

They only need to feed once in a 24 hour period. Vampires can survive between 3-9 months of starvation, but it's a terrible idea. -

There are three different categories of "Undead Hunger." Vampires have two of them and actually need to consume more than one thing to stay "healthy": Blood and life force. -

The blood is obvious. This is categorised as a "diet dependency." It's required to preserve their bodies and powers, and without it their powers* are suppressed as their bodies begin to shut down. *This refers to the powers a vampire gains with age; they cannot lose power they had as a newborn (the base stat blocks given for vampires and spawn given in the monster manual) A vampire requires the equivalent of 12 hit points of blood a day, or it begins to revert into a corpse-like state. Mentally they slowly regress into a desperate, mindless animal frenzy where they'll kill and drain anything containing blood they can get their hands on. Ultimately, if they don't get any blood then they revert into a corpse and they're trapped in their own body as it begins to wither and mummify. They're trapped in a coma, vaguely aware of the passing of time in flashes of awareness until somehow they are fed blood. If they ever wake up again, they will probably wake up feral and absolutely ravenous. -

Vampires rely on the victim's blood pressure to expel blood from the wound they create, lapping and mouthing at the wound rather than actually sucking on it. Being bitten is a highly pleasurable experience that victims can't help but desire, even when they know they shouldn't. -

While the damage done remains, the wounds from a Vampire bite closes itself quickly after the feeding (assuming you're still alive). It does however leave a mark. The bite mark itself is often "less than half an inch in length", and leaves behind a significant bruise that causes no pain or sensitivity to touch. Other side effects include fatigue and a weakened immune system. -

Vampires typically target sleeping victims (less likely to fight back) and favour the blood of their own race above others. So theoretically, Astarion finds elf blood tastes best. -

Drinking animal blood tastes bland and is health-wise akin to drinking tainted water: yes it might keep you alive in desperate times, but it's ultimately bad for you and will probably make you ill. That said, it has no mechanical detriments and a vampire that's forced to live on animal blood will be just as strong as its kin, but considerably bad tempered about it. -

A vampire's secondary feeding requirement is called an "inescapable craving", which means that if a vampire doesn't get that fix then their hunger begins to devour them instead. The pain is described as a spike boring into the vampire's brain, obscuring their awareness. They begin to obsess over feeding to the exclusion of everything else, they become willing to take ridiculous levels of risk to stop the hunger as they become more and more desperate. As they are consumed they become progressively more feral until they're just a rampaging mindless horror driven only by horrific hunger. For vampires, their inescapable craving is life force, which a vampire leeches from their prey through touch leaving the victim weak. Direct skin contact isn't required, if you're wearing full plate and/or the vampire is wearing gloves and they lay a hand on you they can still drain you. Mechanically these were combat abilities, energy/level draining occurred when a vampire struck a target with their own body (usually their hands). Before 5e hit them with a nerf bat, vampires could permanently weaken you this way (you could lose character levels from this). 5e also seems to have rolled life drain into the biting, so a vampire can consume your blood and energy at the same time. -

Post feeding, a vampire starts to look alive. Their skin is flushed and warm and they feel elated and energetic. In contrast, a vampire that hasn't been feeding properly becomes more corpse like and feels "sluggish" (I'm interpreting that as flu-like symptoms). It's purely emotional however, the vampire is no less capable and dangerous and suffers no mechanical penalties. -

Vampires can feed on other vampires, which is actually more filling than living humanoid blood and gives them the ability to communicate telepathically for a few hours. They don't like it though. If a vampire drinks from another vampire then they can be controlled by that vampire and the link forces them to feel affection for each other against their will until it wears off. The results of both vampires in question feeding on each other is described as "debilitating" since they both paradoxically become enslaved to the other's will and forced to "love" each other creating an absolute dysfunctional mess of control, obsession and resentment. The good news is that it only lasts a few hours. -

Some vampires can eat regular food (no nutritional value in it for them) while others would regurgitate it if they tried. As they retain their tongues, vampires can also taste food. That said, it's a bad idea for them to eat garlic, even if they can eat solid food. -

Some kinds of vampires don't drink blood. There's all kinds of weird and wonderful stuff a vampire might be required to consume instead. Spinal fluid stands out. Or the bit about ones who drain the ocular fluid from your eyes. Gale might find interesting things to talk about with the magic eating ones who prey on mages. They're much less common, probably something to do with most people not finding that very sexy. I don't think any of them exist on Toril.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #vampire tav #long post #the screaming into the void will continue until the hyperfixation is out of my system

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issa-pheonyx · 9 months

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Being Johnny Cage's Niece...

𝗜 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱, 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗼𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀. 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹. 𝗬𝗲𝘀, 𝗜'𝗺 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝘀✨𝗰𝗮𝘂𝗰𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗮𝗻✨, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱-𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗝𝗼𝗵𝗻𝗻𝘆. 𝗟𝗲𝘁'𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗻 𝘆𝗮'𝗹𝗹 [𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗱𝘂𝗹𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆]🤭

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

-He is literally the fun uncle...with such dad jokes and puns that makes you double take on being his favorite. Yes, you're his favorite what makes you think he is open with you hanging around when he is in acting mode at work or he invites you to the red carpet to announce the winners for best actor (AKA him). Plus, there is a new game system you've been investing? He got you. Student loans? No need just tell him how much it is for each semester, he is very supportive of your career. "Is that your uncle Johnny fucking Cage!?" He is at the drop off waiting for you to be picked up in his red Lamborghini, blasting California Love,"Yup...that is my uncle."

-Speaking of his acting career he will NOT permit you to go to any film industry if he is not around. He will confront any sleazy creeps who dare to make you sign a contract, because you will be the biggest star like your uncle. Nope! Not on his watch. "Give me that. Who gave you this paper?" "Uh, some bald guy-" "Yeah, didn't I teach you any better talking to strangers??" "Uncle J you're not even my da-" "I'm calling your mom."

-Not only is he protective, but he will keep mad bugging you to teach you his martial art skills. It is just an excuse to have some uncle and niece bonding-both you hang out 24/7 it is ridiculous-so, you could be his trustee side kick and who knows if he ever has another movie coming in he would definitely drag put you in since you learned martial arts like him. On a serious note though he would let you know he is not doing it for clout (bullshit), but to make sure you are safe and know what to do in dangerous scenarios

-Of course, you will be bombarded with paparazzi when you're hanging with your uncle, however the pictures seem to have a unique pattern about you both. It is like a game between you and Johnny against them. You received little attention before your first movie with your uncle, yet after that you decide to troll them. Every picture they failed to take your face either you wearing a hoodie only seeing your mouth in view, surgical masks and not being to capture you pulling it down when you're eating/drinking cause the angle is shit. Or even then you would position yourself around objects or things that it just looks like a tree branch covered the majority of your face flashing a smile cause Johnny cracked a joke as he was smiling too, eating frozen yogurt going for a walk at the park

-Now being introduced with Lui Kang God of Fire, Sub Zero, Scorpion, and so much was mind blowing. Even you were part of it. Johnny being the protective uncle he absolutely REFUSED to get you involved. So, instead you had to stay close to him at all times since you were forced to join. It was quite a beauty since these different timelines had gorgeous views, so you would snap pictures here and there (without uncle Kenshi knowing cause he bonked you with the sword once). Plus, you were stunned how pretty everyone was there like holy shit why is everyone so hot???

-Furthermore, everyone was just as curious as they were with Johnny to you. "So, you're related to Johnny Cage?" Lui Kang asks as he was behind the entrance door of your uncle's mansion with his arms crossed,"Unfortunately, yes-" "That's it! Youngins' shouldn't be here. The adults are talking." The ladies were a little confused you can be the opposite of Johnny being humorous and all. "How can you tolerate such patience with an uncle so untamed, (Y/N)?" Kitana whispered to you after he told her she was gracefully aging for a 10,000 year old,"I don't know, princess. I question myself that everyday."

-Of course, your uncle J told you to be close to you at all costs, but you end up snapping when someone laid a hand on your uncle. That's when all that work of martial arts paid off when you were popping awf, honey. Everyone was shook and couldn't believe their eyes even Mileena complimented,"Such fire you show within kombat! I wish you can stay here in the Outworld to teach all my guards." You chuckled,"I would be very honored, your majesty, but I don't think uncle Johnny would be okay with that."

-Being his niece has taught you to enjoy life even when things don't go your way it'll get better. With you he learned that not everything shouldn't be taken so lightly when it is necessary especially to those he has a special bond with. Lets just say it is a healing and mind opening moment for you and you uncle away from the riches, the media, and fame into the Outworld

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mk 1 #johnny cage #mk1 2023 #mk 1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 2023 #lui kang #kitana #mileena #kenshi takahashi

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codenamesazanka · 2 months

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The park flashback/scene where Tenko plays with Mikkun and Tomo-chan in Chapter 418 first takes place in early afternoon, as evidenced by the clock reading almost 2:00 PM.

The art in the scene confirms this: clear bright skies, and the shadows under the children are short.

However, the time in the scene changes after Mikkun and Tomo-chan tells Tenko he should be All Might (the moment Tenko decides he wants to be a Hero, as he tells his mom in Chapter 235). Suddenly it's evening: the clock shows 6:13 PM, and the sky darkening because it's nearing sunset.

When Shigaraki/Tenko thinks of the League, he and the League (and Deku) all have long shadows, the kind you see when the sun is low in the sky.

＊

The context:

Sunset is the time to go home. Children who have been playing outside, in playgrounds, at the park, are supposed to go home, to get back in time for dinner, back to their families.

In Japan, many cities and towns have a bell/chime/song that plays from public loudspeakers at around 5:00 PM. It's a daily test of an emergency broadcast system, but it has also come to be seen as the evening bell, a 'go home' signal, especially for children, telling them to go home before it gets dark.

In manga and anime, all these elements have become common imagery and symbolism, associated with each other: red-orangey colors, sunset, long shadows, the chime, children saying goodbye to their playmates for the day, the idea of home and return.

(from Mushishi)

＊

Putting it all together:

When the park scene first shows up, it's Tenko memory of playing with Mikkun and Tomo-chan, likely exactly how it had occurred in real life: it's early afternoon, the sun is shining bright, their shadows are short, they're at the park, they're playing Heroes, and when the kids tell Tenko that he should be All Might, Tenko is overjoyed.

But this isn't the scene 15-16 years ago; this is a memory. Tenko is also Shigaraki here. He has just had his core pried open by Deku, and given relief. The Crying Child has been symbolically saved, but the past, the massacre, the Walk still all happened.

So it's suddenly 6:13 PM, it's sunset now, because it's way past proper time (5:00 PM) to go home - because Shigaraki/Tenko can't go home to the Shimura house. It's too late. It's been long over.

Shigaraki/Tenko then looks away from Mikkun and Tomo-chan, to the side, and say, 'Nah' to their suggestion, because besides it being late, he also no longer wants to be All Might. He's deciding he's a Villain, he still holds malice and he still destroys.

So, the scene changes again to contains the League now, all six of them (plus Deku). They exist in this sunset time, hence their long shadows. They exist with current Shigaraki/Tenko, they exist in the now - and arguably, they would be the home he would return to at sunset.

Up to interpretation, of course, but the sunset/going home context is real.

Japanese tweets about it (translated):

[When Tenko got the words he wanted, his eyes lit up, but it was past time to go home so I'm guessing that means "it's too late."]

[It is just heartening that the League members are the place where Tomura would return to when it was "time to go home." I'm sobbing]

[In the scene where Tenko is at the park, the clock is already past 6:00 PM, the time when good kids go home, so if he had met Deku a little earlier, Deku might have been able to stop him, but this seems to show that they're past that stage now, which is good.]

#nalslastworkingbraincell #shigaraki tomura #Chapter 418 #bnha 418 #some cultural context #bnha #mha #heroaca

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catsfor2 · 1 year

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hit me, pt 1

word ct.: 2.3k, largely unedited gen: boxer!ellie x med student!reader au!!!, reader is a barista, ellie is mean (she has her reasons), reader is a pretty princess femme because i said so, also ellie says dyke (because i said so)(but not in this chapter lol) warnings: swearing/language, age diff (reader is 19 ellie is 23), drug use (alcohol), eventual smut, angst

a/n: this chapter is a kinda slow start, i mostly just wanted write some establishing dialogue type stuff. i want this to be a medium length ish fic. definitely nsfw in the future. i’m also going to (attempt) to have a more organized pov switching order? idk maybe each part switches between ellie and reader or maybe 1 switch per part? idk. lmk what u think. if you like my writing pls interact on this post or even visit my blog to submit a hc, drabble, or fic idea! requests are open

a/n 2: also, thank you sm to everyone who voted on the poll!!! will totally be doing more of those in the future

part 1.5

You were so drunk. Like, so fucking drunk. Legs wobbling and cheeks flushed, an idiot could notice how intoxicated you were. Hanging off of your friends and approaching strangers. A mess, is what you looked like. You'd learned to restrict yourself over the years, as your friends have informed you of all of the humiliating behaviors you exhibit drunk.

You weren't too worried about anything, though. It's your first night drinking in a while—you're up at university now. Rarely do you get to join Dina and her friends by actually consuming the alcohol—you usually just pass. However, tonight, you wanted to get fucked up. You wanted to forget. Fortunately Dina's a good host, and an even better friend. If anyone was going to be holding your hair back at the end of the night, it would probably be her.

The very first thought you had was holy shit, this is not Dina holding my hair. You shouldn't say 'holding', really. Whoever's hand was in your hair was gripping, hard.

"Shut up, you're fine. Here—drink. No, not sip, drink." A voice directs, bringing a cold cup of water to your mouth.

The first sip is disgusting, the stale tastes of alcohol on your tongue washing down your throat.

Oh Christ, is this one of Dina's friends? How do I not remember her? And her...huge shoulders?

"Seriously—fuckin' drink or I'll make you." The same voice says, meaner and harsher. This person talked to you like you were an animal.

The hand that clutches your hair lets go, and surprisingly gently, rakes over your head a few times to smooth it out. You absentmindedly lean into the touch, too far past the threshold to stop yourself.

The hand moves to your nape as you start to drink, cradling. Her fingers just barely reach around the sides of your neck.

You hesitantly gulp about half the glass of water before the brunette puts it back on the counter.

"Ewwww, is that sink water?" You whine, your face scrunching.

"What, it's not good enough for you? You want Fiji? Fuck is the problem?"

Her tone sobers you up for a moment, locking your eyes to the tiles. You couldn't look at someone while they yelled at you.

Slouching on the floor while she hovers over you, you pull the edges of your dress over your folded legs, only just now feeling the bareness. Your hands stay clutched in the fabric.

"Are you done now?" She says. Rudely, you think. She could've meant 'done' with your vomiting or with your complaining, you weren't quite sure.

"Yeah...I think so. Thank you. Um, really, thank you." You try to say, still feeling stuffy and weighted from all the liquor in your system. She looks at you so intensely you turn your head to escape her gaze.

"Dina asked me to." She takes a damp towel and wipes around your face. "Plus you're so drunk it's a fuckin' liability."

"I'm—m'sorry. Who are you? I've never seen you at one of Dina's...things...before, I don't think."

Her hand stills, wet rag still in it. Her eyes hold yours for a moment, closely and intensely, before darting away again.

“Yeah, you haven’t.”

She rolls up her sleeves before wiping over your collarbones and you spot her tattoo. It takes your gaze up the length of her arms, and you simply let your eyes wander over her figure for as long as you want.

"You should probably throw that dress away. Y'got shit all over it now." She states.

Well.

You look down and see that the moisture on your dress has made it completely see through. Your arm moves to drape across your chest to cover your vibrantly patterned bra and your breasts awkwardly spilling out of it.

"Come on, that's jus mean," you complain. "...ignoring me like that. Please, please, pleeease tell me your name..." Your voice is drunken, high-pitched, and definitely annoying. The woman in front of you grimaces.

"No."

"Why not?" You giggle a bit. "I'll tell you mine."

It was kind of your specialty. Annoying people. Her eyebrows shift downwards. No response.

"Hm, ok. I'll ask Dina." You say, a tiny smile trying to break through your face.

"Do it. See if I give a fuck."

"Woooaahhhh, somebody's got a bee in her bonnet! Who peed in your wheaties?"

"You did. And you're at least sixty-fucking-years-old for even saying that," She tosses the rag behind her and puts her hands on her knees to stand all the way up. "y/n."

Your face lights up an in instant. You scramble to your feet.

"How--how do you know mine? But I can't know yours!?"

"Just how it is. I have to go now." She says, throwing her khaki jacket on her back.

"But--hey, hold on, I don't have a ride home anymore! Everyone's left by now!"

"Not my problem. Call your fucking boyfriend or something." She barks, hands now defensively in her pockets.

A laugh promptly bursts out of you, and you impulsively reach out to grasp her shoulder. Your fingers brush over the collar of her jacket.

"O-kay," you quip, "hold on--cause, I don't have a boyfriend, silly," Her eyes bore into yours as your face draws even nearer. "I'm a lesbian..." You whisper giddily, as if it's something only she gets to know.

Her eyes flit away from you as her mouth purses and flattens, like she's contemplating on how to deal with you. In a moment her pupils are locked with yours again.

"Wow, so fucking special, aren't you, princess?" Her last word is a little less bold, less certain than the rest, like it wasn't entirely intentional. You blush, full body and wholeheartedly.

Princess. Princess?

Your grin widens uncontrollably, and you feel yourself giving in to the hazy pleasure of the alcoholic buzz in your blood. Your hands palm your own thighs as you speak.

"Oh...princess? I like that. I've never—I've never been...called that, before. Before now." You breathe out, eyes fluttery and tired.

She didn't snap at you immediately this time. No, instead, she begins to smile. A lazy, smug, confident smile that burns your stomach.

"You're gonna be real fuckin' embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow. Fuckin'—prissy bitch like you acting all shameless."

“You don’t know who I am,” You mutter, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "and this? This is not shameless. Do you wanna see shameless? What that actually looks like?" You ask, voice quiet on purpose.

"...No. Fuck no." She denies, that microscopic crack of a smile still evident on her face.

She's very pretty when she smiles. Sooooo pretty.

"You swear way too much, you know that?"

"No, I didn't fucking know that."

Her eyes don't leave yours, like she's waiting for something. Finally, something breaks.

The hand that was resting on the doorknob jiggles it open and she stands in the frame for a moment, just staring. Her compelling eyes force your words out.

"Ok but before you go. One question. Just—just one question.”

"What."

You freeze. What did you want to ask her? You remember it being something about her age.

“Well fucking spit it out. I’m trying to leave.” She urges.

Before you can even recall, another thought appears in your head.

"Okay, okay. Call me princess again? Pleeease? Just once before you go. I don't even want a ride anymore.” You take a glance at the bathroom. “I'll just...sleep… here." You whisper, a little upset thinking about how after this woman leaves, you'll be standing in this bathroom, alone.

"..."

She steps forward, mostly expressionless, pulling up the straps of your dress to cover some cleavage you didn't realize was showing. Your face heats shamefully.

She lets out a sigh.

"Dina has a pull-out in the basement. There's another bathroom down there too if y'need it. Go to bed," Her eyes scan you up and down so quickly you almost miss it. "and finish that glass of water."

With that, the door shuts behind her.

And she's gone.

_____________

You did end up talking to Dina about the person you met last night. Around noon, of course, as you both had slept through the entirety of morning.

"Wait...that's Ellie? Are you fucking serious?!" You clamor, barely comprehending what she’s saying.

The person who helped you out last night knew you, and it also happened to be Ellie. You wanted to hit yourself. Knock yourself out. Be unconscious.

"I thought you knew! She doesn't look that different."

"Dina. I haven't seen her in four years, cut me some slack. And she has like—a whole new energy now. It's....different."

She smirks at you. "...Different?"

"I—yes, different. I know I'm not wrong. I'm not."

The last time you saw Ellie, she was 19 and you were 16. You hadn't come out yet, and hung off of your asshole boyfriend's arm for as long as you could when he was around. Ellie hated the guy. You were insufferable, but Dina must've seen through it enough to befriend you. You’re eternally grateful.

Ellie is a family friend of Dina's, so naturally your paths crossed pretty frequently back then. Until two days before her 20th birthday, when she ran away only with plane tickets and a plan to 'elope' with her girlfriend of three months. They broke up a month later.

You haven't seen her since—excluding last night, of course.

"Oh—oh, fuuuuck. Dina, I know why she was so mean to me last night." Your hands reach up and you drop your face into them.

"She was mean? You didn't say that, the hell?"

"Yes—she was mean, Jesus Dina, keep up. Listen I didn't even recognize her. Like, at all. I kept asking for her fucking name, like, over and over and over again! Oh god, she probably thinks I'm such an asshole." You sulk, rerunning the things you said and did last night in your head.

"Yeah, she totally does."

"No! shut up! You're not helping. How was I supposed to--? She has these arms now, she didn't have those three years ago! And her shoulders? They're so much...wider!" You exclaim, bewildered by this entire situation.

"Hah, ok--"

You cut Dina off.

"And the tattoo, oh my god the tattoo! She's basically unrecognizable!"

"Calm the fuck down, perv. She got a new job three years ago and it just changed her a bit. She does a lot of...physical stuff, now. But she's basically the same, I swear."

"Yeah? Ok. That's...reassuring, I guess..." You say, half truthful. Dina looks at you with something you can't identify. "so...what job."

"Uhhhh—well, not my place to say. You'll...definitely have to ask her. Yourself." Dina winces, trying her best to not let out more info than she should.

"Hm. This is getting...less and less reassuring as you go on. But, thank you Dina."

"So you want her number?" She grins, holding up her phone.

"Are you kidding me." You reject. "I do not text first. You know that."

“You freak, not for that,” Dina shakes her head. “but so you guys can fucking make up and not hate each other, maybe?”

She laughs before getting right on her phone and looking for Ellie's contact.

"I'll just send your number to hers then, jeez."

"No, don't do that either. If Ellie's all upset I couldn't tell who she was, she can be a big girl and tell it to my face. And I don't even care if you tell her I said that. Honestly."

Dina looks up at you. Eyes unmoving and apathetic.

"Both of you are so fucking dramatic. Don't think I'm on your side or her's at this point. I’m completely out of this.”

She throws her phone on the couch before tossing her whole body on it as well. She grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Oh shit,” Dina laughs.

“What?”

“Ellie’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out you’re gay now,” Dina says with an acute smile.

I already, accidentally, drunkenly told her. Problem fucking solved, you think.

“Ok? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just, pure shock, probably.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” You respond lightly. “…I guess she still pictures the me from highschool, right?”

“Is that your way of asking me if she still hates your ex-boyfriend? Cause yeah, trust me, she does—”

An impeding stream of knocks cut her off. You both whip your heads towards the sound.

The door swiftly opens and in steps Ellie.

Nobody speaks for a few seconds.

“…I have coffee. Thanks for leaving the door unlocked, morons,” Her leg kicks backwards and loudly shuts it. “I hope you get fuckin’ robbed one of these times.”

She walks ahead and hands a hot cup to Dina, and then, to you.

Her thumb rubs along the inside of the carabiner clipped to the loop of her jeans. There’s a smidge of silence before she looks up, only really looking at you.

“I need to show you something.”

And that’s all she says. No context, no elaboration.

“Uh—now?” You question, still in the beat up makeup from last night and hair sticking in all different directions. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Uh, yes, now.” She unclips the carabiner and spins it around her pinky. “Let’s go.”

“But what if—what if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“Well no, but I’d like to at least—”

“Jesus Christ both of you are like this? Here: your hair looks great, your makeup is perfect, your boobs are huge. Can we fucking leave now?” She tells you, completely causing you to forget anything you were saying.

In a moment of panic, you glance at Dina.

Her eyebrows and shoulders only give a limp shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what this is about, but you’re on your own!’

Naturally.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you take a sip of your coffee. “…Ellie.”

The second you say her name, her head is turned to you. Her eyebrows creasing and eyes unwilling to break your gaze. So now you know what the stare was about.

You wonder if your cluelessness last night genuinely hurt her. Made her feel unwanted. Unknown. You felt like shit. You just hope she doesn’t feel similar as you do right now.

She says nothing.

And in that silence, with Ellie cutting in front to get the door for you, you leave.

#ellie x reader #ellie fic #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #lesbian #tlou fic #tlou #tlou part 2 #catsfor2

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guardarecheluna · 4 months

Text

I know you’d never leave me behind, but i am lost this time.

Words: 5K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst (Arguments, miscommunication, anxiety.)

Summary: Harry has never been an anxious person before having his daughter. And bursting through the baby bubble, leaving the safety of home behind was more difficult than expected; way more difficult than expected.

“She’s just over a week old, and you’re insane if you think we’re taking her to see my family. She could get really sick, so tell me, what is it that you don’t understand?”

Harry’s harsh tone was resonating in Y/N’s system as she looked up at him from her place on the sofa. Harry was holding their newborn in his strong arms, her little head perfectly supported in the crook of his arm. And even with his frustration spilling out on Y/N, he was gently swinging side to side, to keep little Elida calm and happy. Y/N swallowed harshly and bit her tongue, not wanting to upset him further or wake up their sleepy baby.

Anne had been terrorising the new family with calls every day since the birth of Elida. She didn’t mean no harm, they knew, but she had been asking to come meet her grandbaby. However, Harry and Y/N were in agreement that they wanted the first week on their own, no visitors unless wanted, just to get settled into being a new family and spend time in the baby bubble. It had now been over a week, and without thinking much about it, Y/N had agreed to travel up to see Anne, from London, without talking to Harry first. She figured it would be fine, they had only discussed a week, Y/N had been feeling better and better since the birth, and Elida was getting used to her life out of the sac nicely. Y/N was also desperate to get out of the house at this point, to see another face, and show off the new family member. Y/N just didn’t expect hell to break loose when she mentioned it to Harry.

“I can’t believe you’re not thinking about Elida, she’s so little, and they’re going to be all over her with their germs. It’s our baby, they can wait for a few more weeks.” Harry continued on, Y/N have barely stuttered a word in response to his words. She had no idea that agreeing to come see Anne the next day would cause such a stir in him.

“Harry, settle down, please, let’s just talk.” Y/N tried carefully, with a gentle tone. She knew that Harry’s baby anxiety had been hitting him hard. Although they both expected to feel some anxiety around their new life as parents, Harry’s been off the charts in the past few days. He looked livid, dark circles under his eyes and some spit up on his ripped Pink Floyd t-shirt.

“No, I will not back down on this, because you obviously don’t understand.” He said, now pacing around between the sofa and their living room windows. That was the final straw for Y/N. She had been understanding, gentle, and comforting with him although she was also feeling all of these new feelings surrounding their baby, plus she had just given birth. She was tired, and she was sore. Y/N stood up with a blank expression, facing him. “I would think very carefully of how you speak to me, don’t act like I’m clueless. Talk to me about what you’re feeling instead of speaking in code. Cause I’m not buying it, I will not allow you to talk to me like that.” She said harshly, a wrinkle between her brows and eyes glazing over. Harry’s face softened for a moment, before hardening up again. “I’m going to have a shower, and you’re going to call your mother and tell her we’re not coming.” Y/N continued, walking towards the stairs, in direction of their bathroom.

She honestly couldn’t tell if she was sad or angry; if she was hurt or offended. But she got in the shower anyway, trying to think of anything, anything but Harry being that angry with her. She just wished that she knew what was going on in Harry’s head.

Harry could feel the anxiety rising in his chest. A nauseous, tight feeling climing up his throat. He knew he messed up the second he saw her eyes become teary. He wasn’t really angry, not at all, and especially not with Y/N. He needed her more than ever, and she, him. However, with all these new feelings, and trying to take care of Elida; constant nappy changes, tummy massages, lullabies and changing of clothes, - he felt himself slipping. All the anxiety he was feeling just came out as anger, and Y/N shouldn’t have to take the heat of it.

The thing is, he is constantly worried for Elida. Has she gotten enough milk? Is she comfortable? Too hot? Too cold? Is her tummy aching? Is she breathing alright?

Harry had spent most of Y/N’s pregnancy on family forums and reading parenting books, trying to learn anything and everything. At the end, it all got too overwhelming, hearing scary stories from other parents of what not to do, and in result, he could barely put Elida down in another room without his head spinning with anxiety.

It was hard. Harry had experienced his fair share of anxiety earlier in his life, but never like what he was feeling right now, having another little soul to love and protect.

Immediately when Y/N had left for her shower, it was like he snapped out of the haze, and all came crashing down. He really needed to talk to her before he completely fell apart.

Harry went after Y/N, up the stairs as he heard her turn the shower on. Elida was sleeping heavy in his arms and against his own will and father-instinct he gently put her down in her little bed-side crib on Y/N’s side of the bed. He brought the monitor next to her and took his phone out so he could keep an eye on her, and went after Y/N. He would be just 6 metres away from her, and keeping an eye on her constantly. It would be okay, he told himself as he put the phone monitor next to the sink and started to strip out of his clothing. Y/N barely glanced at him when he got in, not saying a word. The ball was in his court, he was the asshole this time around, she figured. “I’m sorry, pet, I shouldn’t have taken that tone with you.” Harry tried, as he came up behind her, placing his calloused, shaky hands on her hips. “No, you shouldn’t have.” She replied quietly. It wasn’t that she was trying to act pissed, it was just that she wanted him to take action. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, about how it’s been the past week, it’s been hard, and I know I haven’t made it easier for you.” Harry continued, gently leaning his forehead to the back of her head. That struck an icy pain through Y/N’s heart. He had made it so much better, and she let him know. “Hey,” Y/N said as she turned around in his embrace. “You have been making it easier for all of us, I know it’s a hard transition, I just…I just want to know what’s going on with you, because you haven’t been yourself lately and it’s worrying me. All I’m asking is that you tell me how you’re doing.” Y/N raised both her arms, and put her hands in Harry’s curls, massaging the back of his head under the hot stream of water. Harry let out a big sigh, trying to relax. “I’ve just, I’ve been so anxious, all the time. I’m worried about her all the time and it’s eating me alive. And you’re the best mama, I’m never worried about her when she’s with you, it’s not that at all, it’s just that I can’t seem to stop worrying. She’s so tiny, and it scares me how far I’d go to know that she’s okay.” He let out, not looking in her eyes, almost like he was ashamed of admitting it. “You know what that tells me?” Y/N then said, and now Harry’s eyes met hers, curious, like a child about what she was going to say next. He shook his head quietly, nudging her to go on. “That you’re the best daddy out there. It’s your job to worry about her, yes, but we can’t possibly do everything. She’s safe with you, she’s safe with us, and we will know what’s best for her. I just think you need to go easy on yourself, tell me how you’re feeling, and we’ll figure it out. We’re a team, and I’m not going anywhere.” Y/N said to him, slowly and with intent, to really make sure that her words got to him.

“Y-Yeah.” Harry replied. “I’m sorry, it’s just overwhelming. I know it’ll get better soon, but she’s just so little I don’t know how-“He interrupted himself, sobs crawling up his throat, his head landing on Y/N’s shoulder. He felt completely vulnerable and safe with her. And for a moment, he thought that he wouldn’t want to do this with another person on the planet.

A few hours later in the day, Y/N got some energy back in her system. The days felt all jumbled together, and the parents could barely tell day from night between the constant cycle of changing Elida, feeding her, naps and keeping her somewhat entertained in her awake window.

Y/N decided that she was going to do some baking, maybe some bread to bring to Anne’s the next day. Harry was laying flat on the couch, having some skin to skin with Elida as she was drooling on his chest, producing those sweet baby noises that Harry loved. He could look at Elida for days, just in awe of what him and the love of his life had created together. She was perfect. Harry could almost feel himself dose off on the sofa, to the soft sound of Y/N’s music coming from the kitchen. He was sure he was in heaven right now.

“Tesoro?” Y/N called to him from the kitchen with a gentle voice, snapping him out of his daydream. “Yes, m’love?” He replied, not letting his gaze drift from Elidas little face. “Do you think your mom would prefer focaccia or baguettes?” Harry’s blood turned cold at the reminder of them going to see his family. They hadn’t really talked about the fact if they were going or not, just why he was feeling the way that he was. The issue now is that he still didn’t want to go, his intuition still telling him that it was too soon. He knows he couldn’t turn to anger like he did last time, so he had to try and be more diplomatic, even though all he wanted was to hide Elida away for another month at least.

“Darling, like i said earlier, I’m not sure we should, can’t we just wait like another week? I feel like it’s all wrong exposing her to new people this early.” Harry said, craning his neck to see Y/N stood leaning against the doorpost to the kitchen. Her face unreadable, straight, as she calmly said, “Call your mom.” Before pushing of the doorframe and continuing her mission in the kitchen. Harry sighed, what was he even supposed to say his own mom whom he didn’t want to see right now? Harry got up from the sofa, stepping into their bedroom and putting the awake Elida on the bed in front of him, pulling his phone out to call his mother.

Let’s just say that Anne put some sense into him. He told her about how hard it had been, how the new parent anxiety was eating him alive, and she understood, of course she did. He should’ve called her earlier. They had come to a compromise that it was just going to be Anne and Gemma, no other friends or family, and that if the new parents didn’t feel comfortable yet, Gemma and Anne would have to be satisfied with just admiring new addition to the family from afar, not yet holding her. That felt okay for Harry, that meant that he and Y/N still had some control over the situation. Harry gulped, once again picking up Elida. “C’mere my little love.” He whispered happily to her, putting her in a sling on his chest. Wrapping her up safely, making sure to tie an extra knot so that she would stay put. Elida let out a big yawn as she settled against Harry’s warm, safe chest. Harry’s lips just about reaching her soft head if he leaned down slightly. Harry felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest after the conversation with Anne. Harry took a deep breath as he ascended the stairs down to their kitchen, hand spreading over Elidas small back to keep him grounded. Y/N turned around and looked at him with expectation in her eyes, a slight, gentle smile on her face. “I talked to mum, we came to a compromise, so…” Harry breathed out. “It’ll be okay, yeah? I’m sorry I’ve been stressing about everything; I feel like I’m going insane sometimes.” He continues. Y/N walked up to Harry, sandwiching Elida between them. Y/N leaned down to out a kiss on Elidas head, and then one on Harry’s lips. “You’re not insane. You’re a good father, I told you earlier. I’m convinced it’ll be okay. What did your mum say?” Y/N reassured him, taking his hand and pulling him over to their dining table to sit down.

Being parent to a newborn is never easy, and nobody has ever claimed it to be. Harry, however, was a natural. And it may have something to do with all those books and forums he consumed during Y/N’s pregnancy, but some things seemed to just come naturally to him, while Y/N sometimes stood on the sidelines, not sure what to do. Harry truly is her rock, and she is his.

They spoke that evening about the next day, dread and excitement filling them at the same time. The couple wanted to have some boundaries, even for family. It made them feel safe, and feeling safe and being careful put their minds at ease while trying to figure things out.

Harry’s eyes were focused on the road with an icy grip on the steering wheel. He was a safe driver before having Elida, but now he was extra safe, not making a single risky turn or change of lane as they made their way to Manchester. Y/N was in the back, strapped in the middle seat, so she could be next to Elida.

They had found out day 2 with Elida that she loved car rides. She would instantly calm down when they drove off from the hospital, despite being uncomfortable in her car seat. They figured it was the whooshing-sound of the wind against the car, and decided there and then to invest in a white noise machine for her.

Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror. He had that little worry-wrinkle between his eyebrows as he focused on the road. Sometimes he’d glance at the pair in the back and his gaze would soften. This time he made eye contact with Y/N. “Penny for your thoughts?” Y/N said to him, leaning forward, her cheek against his bicep as he leaned into her touch slightly. “I’m excited to show her off. But I’m nervous about mum and Gemma not respecting our boundaries.” Harry could feel her nod against his arm, placing a soft kiss where her cheek was as she leaned back in her seat. “I know it’s nervous, but you were really brave telling your mum yesterday about your worries, and I’m sure she’ll respect them, she’s a parent too, you know. And if they don’t remember, we’ll remind them. It’ll be alright.” She said calmly, looking at him though the mirror of the car. Harry hadn’t even thought about that before. His mum is his mum. She was also a new parent once, she’s gone through this exact thing, twice actually. Just the thought of that made Harry feel instantly calmer. “And how are you feeling, lover?” Harry bounced back. Y/N thought for a second, glancing over at Elida and then to Harry. “I’m so proud I could burst. We’ve made a perfect little girl, and I can’t wait to show her off. And I can’t wait to show off my more than capable baby-daddy.” She laughed and squeezed his bicep jokingly. Harry chuckled, nodded. “I’m so proud, too.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief as he parked in his mum’s driveway. They had made it there safe and sound, and with only one pitstop to get some air and a coffee. They had barely opened the door of the car as Anne came towards them on the driveway. “My loves, oh my goodness.” Her eyes were filled with happy tears, taking Y/N instantly in her arms and hugging her tight. “Darling! How are you, are you recovering well? You look stunning, Ah I can’t believe you’re here.” She blabbered as Y/N lightly laughed at her erratic behaviour. “I’m well, Anne, it’s been a lot, but Harry’s been taking care of me.” And at the mention of Harry’s name, Anne turned to him, and with wide stretched arms embraced her son. “Hi mum” Harry said quietly into her hair. Y/N knew he had missed her, he was such a mummy’s boy. “My son, who’s now a father of a little girl. I can’t believe it.” Anne continued, with Harry’s face in her hands, pinching his cheeks and putting his wild hair back in place.

You could tell that Harry was gleaming with pride, constantly between laughter and tears at the rush of emotions. He could barely imagine her reaction when she’d get a look at his daughter.

Harry could see Y/N on the other side of the car, just about to grab the car seat, as he rushed to her side. “Careful, lover, you’re not supposed to carry too heavy, I’ve got her.” He said in a quiet voice, a comforting hand on the small of Y/N’s back. Y/N nodded, instead grabbing the diaper bag from the trunk.

Anne rounded the car after them, looking for the little face buried in the blanket of the car seat. As soon as Anne caught a glimpse of Elida, she gasped. She had seen plenty of pictures, of course, and she’s seen her though facetime, but seeing her grandchild for the first time in front of her made the tears fall from her eyes. She put a hand over her heart. “Oh my goodness, she’s precious. She’s even smaller than I imagined!” Harry held the car seat in front of his mother with a puff of pride in his chest, the anxiety has since long left his body, and Anne seemed to keep her distance, as they’d wished. “Alright mum, let’s head inside, yeah? No crying in the streets.”

Harry was light on his feet as they stepped inside, it was always nice to be home, Anne’s house always warm and welcoming. Elida was starting to move and making unhappy little noises to alert her parents to her discomfort. Harry and Y/N looked at each other. “I’ll take her, H, she probably needs a good feeding as well, go sit down with your mum.” Y/N stepped forward to fish Elida out of her seat. She cooed at her little baby, body scrunching together as she picked her up, then stepped away for a moment to change Elida.

Gemma was supposed to arrive in a little while, so they had some time, just the three of them in the lounge. Harry and Y/N sat next to each other, as Elida was being fed. Anne was on a sofa opposite them. Harry and Y/N could tell Anne was bubbling to get talking, barely being able to keep her eyes off Elida as she fed from Y/N. They had been in constant contact since the birth, but Anne didn’t want to miss a thing; it was her first grandchild after all. Harry felt calm in this setting, with his little family just beside him. The time felt like thick jelly, comforting and warm. He could stay here for a long, long time. Conversation was flowing between new parent struggles, trying to fit in a meal or a nap wherever they could, to laughing about little outfits they wanted to put Elida in when she’s a little older. Elida was now napping in Y/N’s arms, belly full of milk, satisfied little sounds coming through her little mouth.

Then Gemma stormed in through the door. They could hear her throwing her clothes off in the entryway and almost jogging to reach them in the lounge. As Gemma caught sight of them her eyes filled with tears, her hands over her mouth. She hadn’t said a thing yet, as Harry stood up and walked over to her. “Hey Gem.” He said, trying to comfort her tears. “My little brother is a dad.” Was all she could get out, embracing him in a hard hug. Harry laughed, a faint blush on his cheeks. It was still so strange when they said it like that, it would take some getting used to.

Gemma moved past Harry to get to Y/N and Elida. Harry motioned for Y/N to transfer Elida to his arms, so that she could greet Gemma. And Gemma basically threw herself over Y/N. They had become close almost immediately when Harry and Y/N had started seeing each other, like they were lost sisters from another universe. “I’m so proud of you. Are you doing okay, is Harry helping at all? I’ll be sure to give him a whooping if he doesn’t, you just let me know.” Gemma said, still tearful about the fact that two of her favourite people just had a baby together. “Gem, don’t worry. It’s been a lot, I’m so tired I could pass out but I’m so happy, and Harry’s been an angel. But it’s good to know that you’ve got my back.” Y/N laughed brightly, rubbing Gemma’s shoulders in comfort, in hopes that the tears would stop.

Harry suddenly felt brave, he sat down directly next to his mother, putting his knees up so Elida could rest against them. “Come sit down, Gem.” Harry smiled to his sister. Gemma sat down next to her brother, and all three of them looked down at the sleeping baby in Harry’s lap. Admiring her little nose that looked just like Harry’s when he was a newborn, the light dusting of hair on the top of her head, and how her little chest moved quickly with her little breaths. “She’s so small.” Gemma said, almost whisper quiet, as to not alert the sleeping baby. “Yeah.” Harry replied mindlessly, still gazing at Elida. “C-can I touch her?” Gemma almost whispered. Harry looked at Y/N for a second, who was nodding at him. “Y-yeah, just wash your hands first, and no kisses on the face, please.” Harry answered. Anne and Gemma almost threw themselves off the sofa and sprinted to the nearest sink to wash their hands.

“Tesoro.” Y/N said, when Anne and Gemma had left the room. Harry looked up at her. He looked so good, she thought. Even with hair unkempt and tired bags under his eyes. His face was clean shaven and soft, for the sole reason of not upsetting Elidas sensitive babyskin. Damn, she thought, she knew he’d let the mustache grow out otherwise, and she loved it when he did that. “Do you feel alright?” Y/N continued. Harry just nodded, a smile spreading on his face. He felt better than he thought. This all felt like a dream.

Anne and Gemma came back and settled down, one on either side of Harry, as they gently reached out to stroke the baby’s soft head and grabbing her tiny, clenched hands. Y/N pulled out her phone, having to snap a few pictures of this special moment of their family. All three of them smiling and looking down at the sleepy baby. It was the start to something new, a new generation, filling all of their lives with happy laughter, endless diaper changes, tiny shoes and most importantly; love.

The room was thick with emotion, and Y/N looked at the family opposite her, almost not being able to keep her tears at bay, just seeing them together with Elida.

Gemma looked up at Y/N, and reaching her arm out for her in a quiet attempt to get her to join them on the sofa. Y/N rose from the opposite sofa, trailing over to them and sitting down next to Gemma. “She’s like a little doll, I can’t believe she’s here.” Gemma said, as if still in disbelief about the whole situation. “You have no idea how hard it’s been not to storm over to your house and see you, I’ve been worried.” She continued. Harry and Y/N shared a thankful look, knowing that in the midst of the chaos of being new parents, the last thing they wanted was a visitor. “We’ve been doing our best to settle in and enjoy the first week of just the three of us together. I just…I know you wanted to see her and us earlier but at the time it was just another stressor to all of this. It’s got nothing to do with you or mum, it’s just our decision, and we’re really thankful you respected our boundaries when we put them down. It’s a special time and we don’t want to miss a single thing, but she’ll be here for the rest of time so you’ll get to spend time with her until you’re sick of her, don’t worry.” Harry gently explained to his mother and sister. They just smiled to him, giving him a soft squeeze to assure him that they knew. “I know it’s a special time, darlings. I know that after I had you, Gemma, me and Des just wanted to be alone, but people kept dropping by and expecting us to take care of them too, on top of our new baby! It made everything a bit harder, even though I know they meant well.” Anne reminisced.

Y/N could physically see Harry’s shoulders loosen up and relax. She could tell his breathing wasn’t constantly in his throat as it had been the past few days at the mention of leaving their baby bubble. He looked relaxed, like he belonged.

Y/N remembered an evening Y/N and Harry had shared just in the beginning of her pregnancy, where they had felt high on serotonin and adrenaline just thinking about the tiny sprout in Y/N’s belly.

“It just feels like full circle in some way, having our own child. I know mum’s been harassing us about having one, but still I don’t think she’ll fully believe us when we tell her.” Harry said into the night. It was dark out, it had to have been hours since they had retreated to bed. Y/N was laying on Harry’s chest, her nose finding his pulse point, and leg thrown over his hip, close, as close as they could get without crawling inside each other’s skin. Y/N smiled at Harry’s words. “Imagine when we get to show them off for the first time, for our family, our friends. I just know it’s going to be perfect. I feel like that’s one of those situations I’ve been dreaming about ever since knowing I wanted a kid.” Y/N replied lightly. She could tell Harry’s heart was racing, she could hear it through his chest. It was quiet for a moment, Y/N could feel her eyes droop and getting heavier in the arms of her lover. Suddenly Harry spoke up. “What do you think of Rose? Elisabeth Rose?” Y/N’s eyes shot open, removing herself from his neck, looking at him with squinty eyes. “Veto. They’re not a character in pride and prejudice, Tesoro.” Harry chuckled. “I like Samuel. Or Logan, Esther, maybe Levi.” She suggested. “Mhm, I like them…but maybe we’ll have to do some more scouting though.” Harry sounded almost sarcastic, and a flat palm was thrown against his chest. “Ow!” Harry whisper shouted. “Be nice. I’m the pregnant one, I think I have a pretty big say in what name they’ll be getting.” Harry grabbed onto her, shifting them around in the bed so that his arms were completely encapsulating Y/N’s frame. “You’re right, you let me put a baby in you, yeah? And I seem to recall you asking for at least a few more after this one.” He said, placing wet kisses on Y/N’s face; on her cheeks, the side of her mouth, her jaw. “Hmm…” Y/N let out, melting into his hold and his soft kisses. “I love you; I love you for doing this for us, I love you.” Harry sincerely let out, lips grazing hers. “I love you.” Y/N whispered back, sleep catching up to her, safe and warm in her lover’s arms.

And as Harry sat there on the sofa, right beside Elida, Y/N, Gemma and Anne, thinking about all that was, and all that has become, he came to realize that this was his reality. His own little child with the person he loved more than anything on this earth. A whole family circle that showed support, love and respect through thick and thin. Harry had never been more thankful for his life, and the thought of this being his forever made him giddy to get started living the rest of their life. Yeah, he would manage just fine – as long as he had them.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry styles masterlist #dadrry #harry styles dad #harry styles angst #harry styles fic

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hillbilly---man · 10 days

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A list of the specific chronic illness/disability-related things in Saiki K that resonate with me personally

(Your mileage may vary, my experiences are not universal, I recognize that some of this is kind of a reach etc etc)

The limiters

Saiki’s powers have grown too strong for him to control, and before the creation of his limiters they were out of control and causing a lot of damage. Some examples cited include accidentally destroying his house in his sleep and having telepathy that reached all over Japan (something I imagine was many many times more distressing [disabling] than his current situation) The limiters weaken his psychic powers and keep them somewhat in check. It’s not perfect, and he still does have problems, but the situation is much worse without them.

This reminds me of the medication I take to keep my immune system under control. Before I started it, my immune system (thanks to MS) was causing lots of issues for me: it took the vision in my left eye, made it difficult to walk and use my arm for a few months, caused horrible leg spasms, et cetera. My medicine helps keep things in check and hopefully prevents future damage... But nothing is perfect. Of course, it’s a monthly shot instead of silly pink balls on my head! So that's a plus 👍

The way he struggles to control his body after Nendo removed his limiter unexpectedly

After being hit with a shock to his system at the sports festival, Saiki struggles harder than usual to control his strength. We see him frustrated with this as he’s eating, his hand trembling as he holds his chopsticks. He tries to power through, but the issues don’t resolve.

I’m fortunate to usually be pretty functional most days (I do have my bad days though lol). However, when I go through significant stress - either mental or physical - it makes a lot of issues pop up that usually don’t bother me. Balance issues, vision stuff.. And hand tremors. Like, I was at a sushi restaurant after getting overheated at the pride festival last year struggling a lil with my chopsticks laughing at myself like “this is just like Saiki at the sports festival…”

Developing new powers unexpectedly

A major source of stress for Saiki is being unpleasantly surprised by a new psychic ability. In the series, we see this a few times. The most notable to me is the time leap ability. He wakes up having accidentally traveled 20 years in the past (soon after it is revealed that his limiter has a defective part). Afterward, we learn when he’s stuck in the time loops with Nendo and Kaido that this time leap ability has been coming back randomly since then “As unexpected and frequent as getting the hiccups”. He spends the entire chapter trying to get control over this ability so he can continue his day as planned. In another chapter, his limiter is malfunctioning and he develops a series of useless powers that he cannot control. Clearly, the limiters are preventing new powers from developing (see my first bullet point!!)

So, another thing about conditions such as mine is that you really can just wake up one day and have some weird symptom you’ve never heard of before! I remember not long after my first big attack I was at Walmart and I just noticed that my index finger was completely numb, and it stayed that way for weeks. One time, my upper lip twitched constantly for like a month straight. Of course, more than just the relatively silly symptoms can and do pop up like that, too. For example, I had these really scary, uncontrollable spasms on my left side (paroxysmal kinesigenic dyskinesia) that happened several times a day for about a week. For a LONG time afterward I would be terrified of them coming back. It's still in the back of my mind but I'm not losing sleep over it anymore at least. Reading those panels above re: the time leap stuff reminds me a lot of that time!

Neuroplasticity and the power remover device

When Kusuke is explaining how the power remover works, he talks about how the brain rewires itself around damaged areas to compensate. The device is designed to more completely destroy the areas of his brain responsible for the psychic abilities. Of course, the device ultimately did not work permanently. The damage it did to his brain was quickly compensated for, and the abilities returned.

When small areas of the brain are damaged (such as… due to a neurodegenerative autoimmune condition), over time the brain can often restructure to work around it. It doesn’t mean that those areas are healed, and the process is often incomplete, but that rewiring can (completely or partially) restore abilities and function that was lost in the damage. They don’t say that explicitly in the series, but that’s surely what is happening to Saiki in the final chapters! Except, you know, in a magical shonen manga way.

Resistance to the idea of needing help

After Saiki uses the power remover device, he loses his abilities and is suddenly much weaker and less capable than he was before. He was used to being extremely independent, but this change has brought him to a place where he cannot do everything on his own anymore. In the library, he struggles to get a book off the top shelf and in the process is reminded of his new limitations. He says to himself “What am I doing…!? Just get used to it already!” After the bookcase is tipped over onto him and Nendo protects him, Saiki is upset about having to be protected when he never needed it before: “I’m so useless now…” Nendo helps him realize that getting help from others is normal.

Helping each other out is one of the most fundamentally important parts of being human, but it can be hard to accept that support sometimes. This is especially the case when you’re thinking about the prospect of needing more help than you used to. I'm fortunate to be relatively unaffected most of the time so far, but I'm still grateful for when the people I love are understanding and don't make a big deal out of it. I hate the idea of being burdensome so I'm just gonna cross my fingers and hope things don't get worse lol

Conclusion: Saiki is just like me for real and I'm DEFINITELY not projecting my own problems into him at all...

we're ignoring the 20k word fic I wrote where I blatantly projected my problems onto him for seven chapters

thanks @justmagicalgirl for encouraging me last week to post this 👍

#this has been sitting in the drafts for almost a year so enjoy #been a little shy to post it because I've convinced myself that 'nobody asked' lol #saiki #saiki kusuo no psi nan #tdlosk #lmfaoo whooops I didn't mean to hit 'post' yet but i guess now is as good a time as any 😅

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janmisali · 1 year

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a naming scheme for polyominoes

polyominoes are shapes made out of orthogonally connected unit squares (like in tetris). I think they're really fun, but one problem is that there really isn't any established method for referring to them. lower-order polyominoes are generally referred to by letters that they resemble, but that doesn't scale well. there are more polyominoes than letters.

so, here's my system! full description under the cut, but here's a spreadsheet with the names for all the polyominoes with up to nine squares, if all you want is the names of these shapes.

in this system, polyominoes are described extremely thoroughly according to several defining properties.

number of squares

this is the part that's already well-established. a monomino has one square, a domino has two, a tromino has three, a tetromino has four, and so on. the numeral prefixes I'm using to generalize these established names are the same as in my base-naming system, so for example a twelve-square polyomino is a "dozomino".

for a monomino or a domino, the number of squares alone is enough to uniquely describe the polyomino. for any higher order, you need a little more information.

symmetry group

this is one of my favorite parts of this system.

after the numeral prefix, there's a suffix that indicates what symmetries the polyomino has. this suffix is broken into three parts.

starting from the right, the ending of the suffix indicates rotational symmetry. -o (polyomino) is the generic form, leaving rotational symmetry unspecified. -e (polyomine) means no rotational symmetry, -us (polyominus) means twofold rotational symmetry, and -on (polyominon) means fourfold rotational symmetry.

before that, the middle part of the suffix indicates reflectional symmetry. -min- (polyomino) is the generic unspecified form, -m- (polyomo) means no reflectional symmetry, -mil- (polyomilo) means one axis of mirror symmetry, -mic- (polyomico) means two axes of mirror symmetry, and -dr- (polyodro) means four axes of mirror symmetry.

and finally (or I guess initially), the vowel at the start of the suffix indicates the alignment of the axis or axes of mirror symmetry, when relevant. -o- (polyomino) is generic, -a- (polyamino) means orthogonal axes, and -i- (polyimino) means diagonal axes.

in total, there are eight distinct symmetry groups a polyomino can belong to:

asymmetric (polyome)

one orthogonal line of mirror symmetry (polyamile)

one diagonal line of mirror symmetry (polyimile)

chiral twofold rotational symmetry (polyomus)

two orthogonal lines of mirror symmetry (polyamicus)

two diagonal lines of mirror symmetry (polyimicus)

chiral fourfold rotational symmetry (polyomon)

four lines of mirror symmetry (polyodron)

in some cases, the numeral prefix for the number of squares and this suffix for the symmetry group is sufficient to uniquely describe a polyomino. (for example, there is only one pentodron: the five-square polyomino shaped like a plus sign) however, most of the time you need more information than that.

stability

the stability of a polyomino is, in simple terms, the number of "non-load-bearing" squares in the pattern. how many of the squares could individually be removed while keeping the polyomino connected? this turns out to be a very useful thing to be able to refer to.

as an example, here are two pentamiles. they both have five squares, and one orthogonal line of mirror symmetry. the one on the left has two non-load-bearing squares (the two on the left side), and the one on the right has three (the one on the left, the one on the top, and the one on the bottom). you can check for yourself to verify that removing any other square from either of these will result in the remaining squares no longer being orthogonally connected.

so, the two pentamiles can be distinguished from each other by calling the one on the left the diadic pentamile, and the one on the right the triadic pentamile. in general, a polyomino with n non-load-bearing squares is n-adic, using the same kinda silly numeral prefix system as everything else.

but what about when this isn't enough information either?

sides

here are the two pentimiles, both of which are diadic. they can be distinguished by counting how many sides they have: the one on the left is hexagonal, and the one on the right is decagonal. so, their names are the hexagonal pentimile and the decagonal pentimile.

counting how many sides a polyomino has isn't as straightforward as you might expect due to some literal edge cases like this one:

this is a heptomino with a hole in it. how many sides does it have? I think most people would say it has ten sides, but you could also say it has six (ignore the hole), nine (there are nine vertices), or what I did and say it has eight sides.

I think this particular method of counting sides is more elegant mathematically (and computationally), which is why it's what I'm using. also it's fun!

holes

these are the two tesseragonal (sixteen sided) tetradic ennimiles. the one on the right has a hole in it, and the one on the left doesn't, so the left one can be called the solid tesseragonal tetradic ennimile and the right one can be called the hollow tesseragonal tetradic ennimile.

for polyominoes with more than one hole, you add a numeral prefix to "hollow", eg. bihollow, trihollow, tetrahollow, etc.

longest line

these are the two polyominoes that can be called an octagonal diadic hexomus. (they're also both solid, but that's not necessary to specify in this case because there isn't a hollow octagonal diadic hexomus.)

these are distinguished by the lengths of their longest line of squares. unlike previously described parts of these names, this is relative, not absolute; all that matters is that the one on the left's longest line is shorter than the one on the right. in this case, these are called the minor octagonal diadic hexomus and the major octagonal diadic hexomus.

there are naturally cases where you need to distinguish between more than two longest-line lengths, so these two words can be supplemented with additional words as necessary:

minor, major

minor, medial, major

subminor, minor, major, supermajor

subminor, minor, medial, major, supermajor

subminor, minor, superminor, submajor, major, supermajor

subminor, minor, superminor, medial, submajor, major, supermajor

subminor, minor, superminor, submedial, supermedial, submajor, major, supermajor

subminor, minor, superminor, submedial, medial, supermedial, submajor, major, supermajor

bisubminor, subminor, minor, (…) major, supermajor, bisupermajor

trisubminor, bisubminor, minor, (…) major, supermajor, bisupermajor, trisupermajor

and so on from there, including "medial" only when there's an odd number of different longest-line lengths that need to be distinguished.

bounding area

these are the three octagonal diadic hexomes. the one on the right has a longer longest line than the other two, so it's the major octagonal diadic hexome, but the other two (which are both minor) can be further disambiguated using their bounding area.

the one on the left fills a three-by-three rectangle, and the one in the middle fills a three-by-four rectangle. in this sense, the left one is smaller than the middle one, so they are respectively named the small minor octagonal diadic hexome and the great minor octagonal diadic hexome.

just like minor and major, small and great are part of a larger set of relative terms, and which ones are used depends on how many distinct bounding areas are being compared.

small, great

small, middle, great

smaller, small, great, greater

smaller, small, middle, great, greater

smallest, smaller, small, great, greater, greatest

smallest, smaller, small, middle, great, greater, greatest

smallest, smaller, small, smallish, greatish, great, greater, greatest

smallest, smaller, small, smallish, middle, greatish, greater, greatest

bismallest, smallest, smaller, small, smallish, (...) greatish, great, greater, greatest, bigreatest

trismallest, bismallest, (...) bigreatest, trigreatest

and so on, using "middle" when there's an odd number of areas being compared.

aspect ratio

these are the two smaller minor dozagonal diadic octomes. their bounding rectangles have the same area (twelve square units), but the one on the left is three-by-four and the one on the right is two-by-six. to convey this, they're called the broad smaller minor dozagonal diadic octome and the narrow smaller minor dozagonal diadic octome.

specifically, "broad" means closer to a square, and "narrow" means more elongated. these terms are further extended in the same way as small and great, with "intermediary" as the equivalent of "middle".

last resort

if two polyominoes have all of these things in common, they're pretty dang similar shapes.

these are the two great decagonal diadic hexomes. they're basically the same shape, but they're still distinct. what I've decided to do when this happens is to just number them, semi-arbitrarily. the one on the left is the primary great decagonal diadic hexome, and the one on the right is the secondary great decagonal diadic hexome.

but of course, what order should they go in? I think the most natural thing to do is to convert the polyomino into a binary number, then sort numerically. since in order to get to the point where this step is necessary polyominoes are guaranteed to have the same bounding box, there's no need to indicate where the different rows start and end; you can just read off all the squares one after the other.

in this example, these two polyominoes are 001 001 011 110 and 001 011 010 110, reading from the bottom row up (with the "origin" placed at the bottom left corner).

one minor issue with this is that a single polyomino can have up to eight distinct orientations. so, to convert it into a number, you first need to pick which orientation is "canonical". the solution I went with is to use whichever orientation of the ones where the shorter side of the bounding box is the width corresponds to the lowest number in binary.

a more significant issue with this, which I haven't really solved, is that there are still so many dang polyominoes.

these are the thirty-seven distinct greatish minor solid dozagonal triadic ennomes. while the vibes of these shapes are indeed very similar, it would be nice to be able to distinguish between them in some way other than just numbering them one through thirty-seven (as fun as using my base-naming system to generate words like "bikery" for the 26th one may be).

closing thoughts

the names this system generates are by no means practical or convenient, but they are highly descriptive, which was my main goal. regardless, for practical purposes just inserting an image inline with text is almost always a better way to refer to higher-order polyominoes than any naming scheme.

there are many important things that this naming system does not describe which could hypothetically be incorporated into a derivative system. one worth noting is whether or not a given polyomino can tile the plane. as it turns out, figuring out if an arbitrary polyomino can tile the plane is computationally really hard, so it would be unsuitable for something like this.

this system only describes "free" polyominoes, where mirror images count as the same shape. following tetris rules, however, those chiral pairs (such as the "S" and "Z" tetrominoes, both of which are called a "tetromus" by my system) should count separately. my recommended solution to this is to refer to the canonical orientation as the "left-handed" one and its mirror image as "right-handed".

#jan misali #math #polyomino

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villainofmyownstory · 1 month

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Day Zero

chapter 3: The one when you met

masterlist taglist

Previous <- . -> Next

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Meeting another person after 2 years of loneliness was not supposed to be like this.

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon

author's note: I don't know... I'm not satisfied with this chapter. I think I reread it and edited it too many times. From this chapter, what happens after days 730... will be in the present tense because, for example, in the next chapter we will return to day 64, of course it is described in the past tense, so it just seems logical to me. I'm not changing chapters 1 and 2, I hope you don't mind. I think I've been spending too much time on this story and I'm starting to think too much.

Thank you all for your positive feedback. You don't even know how much this means to me <3

The next chapter will be posted on May 11 or 12.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Chapter 3: The one when you met

Day 730

Ghost

There are plenty of things in this damn city that he will never run out of. When Ghost was left almost alone, with Riley by his side of course. Already in the first days, the man noticed that there were things here that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Even when he's gone, many of these items will remain in his warehouses for years to come.

Ironically, what he needed the least, alcohol and clothes.

He was never a demanding person. He didn't expect much from life. He was a rather simple man. A roof over his head, a supply of food, a place to train and peace of mind. So when he realized that this city was only his, he was very happy and satisfied. Not that he hated people. It was just better when they were as far away from him as possible. Somewhere in the background, preferably far from his sight and hearing. For many years he felt irritated by the closeness of another person. Of course, there were a few people who managed to get under the lieutenant's shell and understand his moods, behavior and motivations. However, there were few of them. That's right, they were.

In the army, he worked with several people. For many years he had no one outside of work. No family. No other relatives or friends. So when the captain sent him to a well-deserved rest after another long and hard mission. Ghost couldn't find his place for the first few days. He was simply irritated by mundane, everyday things. Going to the bank, store, clinic or even the gym. Too many people. Everywhere. Constant conversations, gesticulations. Noise.

Too much.

So he was grateful for the development of technology. When he could finally sit in front of his computer in the comfort of his own home and get things done in the office or via an app on his phone. The less contact with other people, the better. That's what he thought.

Now that Riley is missing, the soldier wonders about the meaning of his life. If the world had in some way done him a favor by removing other people from his surroundings, why did he have to take away the one being that made him feel alive. That his life has any meaning.

He wasn't a monster. Of course not. It wasn't like he was hoping for some kind of annihilation of humanity, that he would be the sole survivor on earth and be able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He just wanted some peace, on his terms.

However, he felt no sadness or regret as he patrolled the empty streets or checked another empty building.

He had lost too many loved ones in the past to grieve over nameless strangers now.

He shouldn't drink. He knows it perfectly well. Two years. 730 days of sobriety. He had promised himself that big day, he had promised Riley, that he would never feel that burning liquid in his throat again. So that he won't become such a madman when alcohol starts circulating in his system again.

So that he does not become his own father. He couldn't even think of this person as someone close to him. Disgusting creature. Reflective sadists. Sperm donor and that's it. Which should never have existed. He buried that monster a long time ago. Just like Ghost buried his own self.

Apart from losing Riley, this was the man's greatest fear in his life. That by drinking alcohol and getting closer to people, he would show them who he really was. That he was just like his twisted psychopathic father.

And he didn't want to be like that, he couldn't. He preferred to hide behind the façade of a domineering, boorish lieutenant in a mask. Pushing others away from himself. The further, the better. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

He preferred to be alone.

He wore a mask almost all the time. He hid his face from the world. He never showed his true self. He hid his identity and the man he was behind a piece of cloth.

Now that it was just him and the dog, he didn't have to cover his face.... And although sometimes in the morning he was looking for a black mask on the nightstand out of habit, he got used to the pleasant feeling of air on the skin of his face. If necessary, he placed a few masks here and there. Just in case someone, somehow showed up in his town.

Now, standing in the pantry with his heart pounding, he unhesitatingly reaches to the back of one of the shelves where he hid the alcohol.

He purposely hid the bottles in the back of the cabinets behind other things so that every time he looks here, he won't notice the colorful bottles at all.

So that nothing would tempt him.

Pulling out a bottle of bourbon, he moved the cans of food and didn't hesitate. He feels that if he does not immediately drown his sadness in a glass of amber drink, he will not be able to bear the pain of another loss. Looking at the label, he smiles to himself. Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve 15 years 107 proof*. Searching the homes of these rich people had some benefits. Rich motherfuckers who didn't know what to do with their money bought everything expensive. The more zeros in a line, the better.

When he returns to the office, he doesn't even look at the surveillance system.

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Day 731

Ghost

He lost himself. He drank himself unconscious. It was long after sunrise, it is even after noon.

“Dammit”

Ghost mutters, slowly getting up from the chair he fell asleep in a few hours earlier.

He should have been looking for the dog since dawn. He shouldn't give up. He shouldn't lose hope. However, when he lost sight of the dog, something inside him broke. It reminded him too much of the previous two times he'd lost loved ones. He lost control again. Something thwarted his plan. He lost his stability. Monotony, life according to plan.

Barely walking, tripping over his feet and knocking several things off the dresser, he reaches the bathroom. He doesn't care about anything anymore. Everything is the same to him.

When rinsing her face with water, he does not look at her reflection in the mirror. He can't look into his own eyes. Again, he directs his steps to the pantry. To get another bottle. Ghost has already lost count, another bottle to forget.

It didn't matter. It's just that nothing makes sense anymore.

Wobbling on his feet, he returns to the small room, sits in the chair at the desk and takes a few sips straight from the bottle. Regret - he finally feels it. Another sip. Drown, drown. And he only hopes that alcohol will soothe this feeling, that it will help him fill the void he feels after Riley's disappearance.

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Day 732

Ghost

Another day of drinking. Once he touched his lips and felt a sharp substance with his tongue. And he fell into a trance again. It was hard to break out of it. Constant drinking. Vicious circle. Another bottle and another. Let it burn, sting, hurt. Just to feel something. Physically.

Finally, as if something was calling to him, he struggled to get up from the chair and dragged the body to the kitchen, he decided he had to do something. Anything other than just sitting here. With a lot of thinking, wondering, blaming. He's not a victim, he's not. He has to look for the dog. Keep going. He can't show weakness. Even before himself. He felt a little embarrassed. That he gave up again. Too quick and easy. He looks at the mess he probably left behind the night he drunkenly tried to make himself something to eat.

“I'll deal with it later,” he muttered, heading towards the dressing room. Trying to keep his balance, he stops in the hall, next to the small surveillance room, and freezes.

One screen was active. Detected movement.

"Fuck..." Ghost is angry with himself, pissed off. That he hadn't thought about sitting in front of the screens and looking at the city earlier. But now wasn't the time to blame himself or dwell on the situation. He must finally take action.

Looking at the screen, the soldier can't believe his eyes. He not only sees his beloved dog on the screen. Who slowly walks through one of the streets. In the live footage, he sees a figure walking.

Person.

Alive.

Without thinking, he quickly runs to his room to change and grab his gun. It's definitely an ambush. No one in their right mind would wander in the middle of the street in a strange city in the middle of the day. With a dog by my side.

Bait.

Surely the rest of the group was waiting somewhere outside the city or on the roofs of buildings. He has to do something, he has to get Riley back. Adrenaline stimulates his body, his thoughts flow in one direction. Bring Riley home. Punish those who had the nerve to steal his dog.

He had never driven under the influence of alcohol, but he had no choice. It would take him too long to walk downtown, and he couldn't let the intruders get any closer to his house. Or worse, they'll leave town with his dog.

Besides, the only danger in driving a car in such an environment was himself. And he doesn't care about his own health and life.

Before leaving, he checks the camera again, the figure slowly approaches the City Hall building.

"Easy target" Ghost smiled, plenty of space to capture. He loads his gun and runs out the door as fast as he can, his fingers firmly wrapped around the sniper rifle.

While driving through the city streets, he tries to focus on driving straight, but at the same time he is constantly looking around for a potential threat. It definitely has to be a larger group, Ghost is expecting several people. To his surprise, however, he doesn't notice anything unusual.

Finally he stops and he leaves the car a few blocks from the town hall and starts walking towards it. He hopes he's not late. That the intruder and his dog hadn't moved too far.

There were rather low buildings near the town hall, so a block earlier he turned left and headed to one of the skyscrapers, from where he would have a better view. A better place to attack. However, there is no time to enter it. He freezes in place because he hears Riley barking and then a human voice. A woman's voice.

“Shit…”

He muttered through his teeth. Of course he might have expected a group of travellers to send a woman or a child out to scout. To stir up sympathy only to have someone lose their guard.

He has to play it differently. He looks around the street and decides to enter the restaurant on the corner, remembering that there is a passage inside and he will have a perfect view of the street where the town hall was located. As he walks through the abandoned building, he mentally curses himself for drinking so much. Adrenaline helps him focus and stay upright, but he fears what will happen if he ends up having to aim his gun. When he reaches the storefront overlooking City Hall, he freezes.

Woman pets Riley tenderly and happily says something to him.

Dog seemed to sense his presence because it sits on its hind legs and looks towards the building where the soldier is.

Without thinking, Ghost raises his gun and takes aim.

He must get the dog back and show the strange travelers that they cannot take what is his. That he is in charge.

Fractions of seconds. Ghost pulls the trigger, shoots. The woman falls forward. Without even realizing the threat standing in the dark building in front of her. She falls, but not from the shot. There is not a single drop of blood. No screaming in pain.

It was Riley who pulled her over. He saved her. He protected her from the bullet.

Assessing the situation, Ghost quickly leaves the building and continues to aim his gun at the lying woman.

He didn't expect this development, of all the possible scenarios that went through his head. He did not foresee, despite years spent on the battlefield, reading thousands of training materials.

That the dog would be against him and protect some random stranger.

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Day 732

You

Everything happens so fast that it is impossible to rationally connect the facts: the shot, Riley pulling the leash and the fall. So much, in a split second.

But the only thing that is echoing in your head right now is whether or not Riley is okay.

So you don't notice the massive, tall and masked figure slowly walking towards you... The first thing you should do is check the condition of the dog. Riley. That's all that matters to you. You sit on your lap and look closely at the dog.

“Riley, oh boy, are you okay? Show yourself".

You check the dog, and after making sure that the dog is alright, you find no trace of blood or the slightest injury. Relieved, you slowly get back to your feet. Straightening up, you finally see with horror the figure standing in front of you who wanted to shoot you a moment ago. And now it's starting to dawn on you what just happened. What is really happening and that you are in great danger. You open your mouth and then close it, repeating this action several times, you want to say something. But what can you say at a time like this? No words come out of your throat.

“Stand where you're standing and let go of the leash”

The masked man growls lowly, slowly turning his gaze from you to the dog, slowly stepping closer to the two of you.

“Raise your hands above your head and don't move.”

You shiver with fear, chills running through your body. The sound of a man's low voice, any human voice other than yours after many months. Weird feeling. Irrational.

After a while, you finally recover and slowly raise your hands.

“Let go of damn leash!”

You look at the man with fear. It occurs to you that this must be the same man who left the letter on the tower. Anyone else could be masked and not call themselves Ghost. He was tall, well built. He was dressed in tactical gear, a bulletproof vest and... a mask. This was no ordinary balaclava. A skull was attached to the material. The front part, with a fragment of the upper jaw, eye sockets, and forehead. It must have been a human skull. You involuntarily shiver harder in fear, trying to take a deeper breath. This was not what meeting another human being was supposed to be like. This wasn't what you expected.

Ghost will raise his gun higher, still pointing it at you.

“Riley. Heel.., come here"

He calls to the dog, breaking the terrible, prolonged silence. The confused dog stands up and takes one step towards the soldier. But he doesn't go any further.

“This… this dog is mine”

The words finally fall out of you, you muster up your courage and whisper, keeping your eyes on the man

“Don't take him away from me. Not again.”

“Your dog? I think you've got something wrong"

Ghost growled, clearly annoyed. His arm muscles visibly tense, this entire exchange makes no sense to him. Waste of time.

"Y-yes, he's mine..."

You start to say, trying to control the emotions you're feeling. You slowly lower your hands.

“I can prove it. Just let me”

Regardless of the fact that the gun is constantly pointed at you, you have to prove it to him and keep the dog with you. No matter what, at any cost. You want to reach into your backpack and take out that old worn-out photo that you still carry with you to this day. One of the few souvenirs you have kept from your past life.

“Hands up, damn it, I'm not playing any games. Give the dog back and leave town."

Ghost shouts, you can see that he is becoming more and more irritated by your behavior.

“You can take everything you find and leave my city. Riley stays where he belongs - with me."

You shake your head negatively, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying not to cry

“No, the dog is mine.”

“Oh, damn it, I don't have all day for unnecessary discussions. Tell your people not to come back here again. Or at least have the courage to show up in person and not send a woman. Pathetic".

As he says this, he finally lowers the gun and pats his thigh, trying to get the dog's attention.

“Riley! Heel!”

Thinking little, or probably not thinking at all, you reached into your backpack and opened the zipper, looking for a photo.

“Dammit, kid, you don't understand what I'm telling you. Leave the dog and fuck off."

You don't care anymore, if you were to leave this city without your dog, you'd rather die here. Now, at this moment.

You take out the photo, which you have carefully secured to prevent any further damage. You raise your hand, holding the photo, and try to stop it from shaking. Despite your emotions, you calmly say to masked man

"Look, this is my dog. Mine. Look, Riley's missing a piece of his ear. You see? Dog in this photo doesn't have it either…”

The man hesitates for a moment, but decides to approach and take a closer look at the photo in your hand.

“That doesn't prove anything,” Ghost starts to say, but you interrupt him

"What do you mean? How many dogs of this breed have such a wound? How many have a black collar with an engraving on the back, with the exact name and phone number?"

As you say this, you state what is written on his collar

“You could take this off him and read it.”

"How do I know there's something written inside?"

There was silence. Another long, tiring one. You looked at each other without saying a word.

The man was taller than you and towered over you, his broad frame creating a shadow above you, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you. As if he was trying to read what was going on in your head.

You feel a little dizzy. The whole situation was so strange, so surreal. This wasn't what my first conversation with another human being in two years was supposed to look like. This wasn't how the first meeting was supposed to go. At least it wasn't what you imagined.

There's something wrong with the man across from you. Weird, dark, terrifying. His attitude irritates you and something inside you finally breaks. You explode.

“Ghost, listen…”

You started, raising your voice slightly

“I don't know what your intentions are, why you're so defensive about this town and this dog. But I came here alone! ALONE! I haven't seen a living person in two fucking years. I don't understand what kind of travelers you're talking about and why you don't want to admit that this dog is mine. But... but I don't want to leave, not after finding Riley."

When you say this, you look at the dog that sat between you and the soldier. Riley lay down, as if he was also tired of all the strange interaction between two people he knew, through which he was confused.

Ghost remains silent, never taking his eyes off you, as if wondering what to do. Pros and cons.

Finally, the sound of the watch interrupts his persistent gaze, and the man sighs loudly, as if resigned, and says

“Let's just say… I believe you. Temporarily”

The man secures the gun and hangs it on his shoulder. Seeing this, an involuntary smile appears on your face.

“Come on, kid, it's late. We have to go”

Ghost points to the sun, which is slowly starting to hide behind the buildings

"We'll finish this conversation somewhere else. Come on, both of you."

He waves his hand and points in the direction to go.

“Go ahead, I'll watch your back.”

The walk to the car doesn't take long, and you're glad that you won't have to walk another distance on your still scarred and aching legs.

"No way!"

You scream in shock when you see a large, dark pickup truck parked in the cul-de-sac.

“You have a working car! I couldn't find..."

Standing at the passenger door, a man interrupts you, stands next to the trunk and you open the hatch

“Riley, get in. You sit in the back too”

He points to the trunk of the pickup truck

"What? Are you kidding me?"

This man was behaving absurdly. You guess that years of loneliness made him unable to behave socially. He forgot what it was like to interact with another living person.

“Just. Get. In. And don't whine unless you want to walk to the tower. You know the way.”

The man looked at you without blinking.

“To the tower? Why are we going to the tower?”

You say in disbelief, letting go of another exchange of words, slowly climbing into the trunk and sitting down next to the dog. Ghost closes the trunk, making sure the dog is safe, and gets behind the wheel.

“We need to visit your companions. Since they're not in town, they're probably waiting for you there. You know my name, so you must have read the letter.”

As the car starts moving, you start to wonder if you did the right thing by getting into the trunk. Letting a stranger take you away, God knows where. There was something wrong with this man. He thought Riley was his and that you weren't coming to town on your own. Maybe he too, like you, has been living alone all these months. And he clearly couldn't cope with it. You hug the dog, just hoping that when you reach the tower, the man will finally believe you and let you stay.

Nevertheless, you did not want to be left on your own again. Only now did you feel how much you missed another living person. How much you needed to feel someone's presence. To know that you were not meant to live in isolation. You felt that the burden that had stuck with you through those many sleepless, weeping nights had finally fallen from your shoulders.

Maybe it was destiny. This was your fate.

So, you accept it already.

Even if from now on, you will have to live with this strange, mysterious man in a mask.

taglist:

@leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles @vmaxis @poohkie90 @ghostlythots @nobodys-coffee @famouscattale @youdontneedtoknow1226 @pimpinsins @justguessfan @novasilvae @pausbirudanlumbalumba @ella2497

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #ghost #call of duty fanfic #cod au #ghost x reader #dayzero💀

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

Text

In the ancient past, folks used to think that “progress” meant automating everything. You’d go to an automatic diner – an automat, in their futuristic speak – order some food from a little locker, and eat it without ever having to interact with another human being. And now, their dream has come (almost) true. Due to budget constraints, the cool shiny chrome and Art Deco styling has not happened. Instead, your local grocery store now has an automated checkout system which accuses you of shoplifting if the wind blows over your shopping bag while you’re trying to load it.

I’ve complained previously about the gall of this industrial-grade insult machine, and I won’t belabour the point further. The real point is: why didn’t restaurants turn into this, too? To answer this question, I posed as an independent news reporter by not showering for a week, and headed to the local sushi restaurant. Here, a robot “wait staff member” (no gendered language for robots, please: it produces ambiguity in their parse system) was ready to deliver my food to me, on demand, however much I wanted.

Like all computer-based things, I knew that the robot was designed by humans, and so was the fancy iPad they chained to the table that I could use to order food. And humans never think of things like “ordering a negative amount of food.” All I had to do was sit and drink my complimentary water, and plug in a keyboard to the iPad. I watched out of the corner of my eye as the “order quantity” indicator went up.. and up.. and up.. and up.. and after a couple hours of the robot not kicking me out, it went to 2,147,483,647, and overflowed the counter. Now, the iPad proudly displayed that I was ready to order negative two billion items of tuna sashimi. I decided to add a few other items to the order, and then pressed a button which I assumed to say “wench, fetch me my food.”

Friends, and I use that term loosely because I know at least some of you are undercover law enforcement, I did not expect for the restaurant’s robot to literally catch fire, its lithium-ion batteries rupturing in an unquenchable fire as I waited patiently for my meal. On the plus side, when the bill did come, ushered to me by the replacement wait-staff-bot, I swiped my credit card and made enough money to purchase a small tropical island. Maybe there really is something to this future business.

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 6 months

Text

Just Papa Solomons Things

Visiting Scotland with your dove

TH Masterlist

Even though you don’t want to

Alfie’s not a fan of Scotland. Not because of the people or the culture.

No, it’s because everything, right, is on a fucking mountain!

Or so he claims regardless of whether you’re walking to Old Town in Edinburgh via Princes Street, going up the gentle sloping pathway on Calton Hill, are trying to hike up to King Arthur’s Seat in Holyrood Park, or are walking down (I repeat, DOWN) the Royal Mile.

And that’s only in Edinburgh.

It honestly makes you wonder why he decided to tag along, especially since you’ve also planned to explore the rugged north. Then again, you know your grumpy partner well enough to be aware that part of the reason he’s with you is to offer protection.

Truth be told, Alfie gets bloody anxious when you’re on a trip by yourself. Enough so to disregard the issues he has with his leg. Your needs come before his. That’s “non-fucking-negotiable, mate”.

Fortunately, well, for him, the amount of solo trips has drastically reduced since you started dating. He still gives you plenty of space to do things on your own, but it makes him feel better knowing he’s nearby should anything happen.

And it’s nice because now you have him to drive you around so you don’t have to make use of public transport (depends on where you two are, though), watch your luggage when going to the restroom (again, if applicable), and hold your hand as winter casts the streets in dusk as early as four in the evening.

Another added bonus is that you get to stay in the most comfortable and sometimes downright fanciest hotels. Alfie might be frugal, having been raised that way, but he doesn’t want to do you short. Plus, having the finances, he doesn’t mind occasionally splurging a little bit if it concerns spending time together.

Now, Papa Solomons hates the cold and becomes snappy when the heating isn’t on in your coach in the train to Inverness.

“‘S bad for me sciatica. Also ain’t good for your health. They better get the heating here or I’ll make them. My cane should be plenty conviction.”

When one of the staff members walks by, Alfie beckons them over. However, before he can so much as open his mouth, you place your hand on his arm.

He glances over his shoulder, rolls his eyes with an irritated sigh as you shake your head, and clears his throat to politely inquire about the state of the heating in a strained voice. “You see, mate, my wonderful missus is gettin’ cold and we can’t ‘ave that, can we? If she starts getting the heavy shakes between let’s say now and ten minutes, I’ll personally come turn the fucking system on, right. Do you understand?”

With a stammered “y-yes, sir” and frantic nod, the attendant is off.

Three minutes later, you feel the coach warming up. Alfie leans back, eyes closed, his fingers entwined with yours. “Much better. Fucking trains. Don’t like ‘em.”

You kiss his cheek. “Thank you for not using your cane.”

“Mhm, doin’ it only for you.”

And he does. Alfie tries to reign himself in whenever he’s with you, afraid of showing you the always seething rage beneath his skin, the wrath inside looking for a way out. So, while he hasn’t discussed it yet with you and remains highly skeptical about how much good it’ll do, he’s thinking about anger management therapy or taking classes in it.

If only so he won’t turn into his father.

So he can love you properly.

So he can settle with you.

Albeit perhaps not in the place he’s envisioned.

It all happens on a day trip you booked for the two of you.

Perhaps it’s the way he sees how enamoured you are by the language, the way your eyes light up when hearing about local folklore, the strange familiarity he feels when the Norse history of Skye is mentioned while you’re at his side.

Maybe it’s the glamour of the faeries.

Whatever it is, it makes him want to stay on Skye with you.

He doesn’t mention it while you’re having lunch at Relish in Portree, but Alfie can’t stop envisioning having a little bakery in a town like this. He’d leave London and Margate behind, settle here, and live out whatever days remain for him in the peace and quiet of the island.

On the long drive back, he lets you snuggle up to him for warmth and to function as your pillow. He only wakes you up once when you stop in Broadford for refreshments, gently forcing you to get out of the van and accompany him to the Co-Op to get a semi-decent dinner and snacks.

It’s safe to say, for its rarely any different, Alfie pays for everything. “‘S what I’m supposed to do, innit? Good men take care of their wi- women.”

Despite his stoic expression and casual tone, meant to dismiss the slip of the tongue, the quick glance to check your reaction is telling. He knows he fucked up, played his cards too fast, too rashly.

You catch it, but decide to willfully ignore it. Instead, you take a sip of coffee. “Let’s go back to the bus.”

Nevertheless, once you’re back at the hotel, he goes nearly feral. It’s similar to what overtakes him every summer, but now it’s driven by the desire to claim your unbearable cuteness, completely under the spell of the magic that seems to surround you, lingering.

There’s a precarious balance when it comes to how vocal Alfie is in bed. Some days he’ll guide you to your orgasm without a single silence, each word pointed and full of purpose. Other days, the only thing he can do is growl and grunt, lost in the pleasure you grant him and vice versa, but also in the way his brain is finally off. No schemes, no secrets nor hidden motifs. Only the simple act of fucking.

Nonetheless, this is perhaps one of the few times you’ve heard him beg. Desperate and blunt, no polish to his utterances yet crystal clear diamonds compared to the muttering meant to confuse.

“Marry me, eh? Let’s, fuck, hm, yeah settle,” he murmurs in between kisses, which grow sloppier as his thrusts get more and more erratic. “Settle with me. Be Mrs Solomons. Want, hrm, need my wife. Only you. Want. Want you. Only you.” He pulls your hair so you’ll bare your neck to him. Lovingly he bites the skin, the sting and burning warmth heated by the words spilling from his lips. “Please, dove, please. Marry me.”

He doesn’t need a spoken answer, just the mere fantasy you say ‘yes’ and the way you look when he’s inside you, especially as you come undone because of him, is enough to send him over the edge with you.

As you’re basking in the afterglow, Alfie caresses your arm. His fingers slowly slide over your skin, lost in thought, wandering in the chaos reigning in his head until he’s found the words to start the conversation. Or, rather, to tell you what’s been on his mind since the afternoon, the wee bakery on Skye.

There are no words for the bleakness washing over him as you frown, taken completely unawares by his attitude. It’s unlike him to be this spontaneous, without a plan. “Alfie, don’t be rash. It doesn’t suit you. Come up with a business plan first. Is it viable? Would we manage to get by? It won’t be like London.”

“I know, but…” he groans, reluctant to admit he’s in the wrong, “you’re right, dove. Silly, ain’t ‘e, this old man and ‘is fantasies.”

“You’re not old.”

“Older than you. Old enough to be-“

You shut him up with a kiss. “No, none of this. I love you for who you are. I’m proud to be Papa’s little dove.”

“Would you one day be ‘is wife?”

You furrow your brow, wondering where this is coming from. That is, until you recall his pleading in his sex drunk stupour. “You meant that?”

He nods. “Mhm. Maybe not the proper way to ask, but I mean it. This, ‘ere, right, between us, I want it to be long term.” Voice lowered and steady blue eyes filling with the fight between panic, disbelief, and determination, he asks the question that makes him grow pale. “It is, innit?”

“It is, don’t worry.”

He cups your cheek and pulls you towards him to rest his forehead against yours. A tapered breath escapes him, shivery and frail. “Stay with me.”

You run your fingers through his beard, a burden falling off of your shoulders as you see him relax. Though you appreciate Alfie’s occasional openness, when he shows his struggles you can’t help but feel your own heart crack.

Then again, that’s Love.

For whatever our souls are made of, if we’re lucky, we find one that’s compatible. That’s the same.

“I won’t go anywhere without telling you.”

“Don’t go at all without me.”

You feel something wet warm your hand as you kiss his forehead. The sensation moves to your chest when Alfie rests his head on it. His arms wrapped around your waist in a fierce bear hug, you run your fingers through his hair, weaving them through his messy brown locks.

Alfie rarely if ever allows himself to show his vulnerabilities. Nevertheless, when he’s around you and alone like this, he does. And it still stuns him you stay at his side, that you haven’t run from, in his words, “tainted bein’, uglier than a golem”.

But how could you? How could you leave a man as doting and loving as him? Sure, Alfie’s gruff and a little rough-handed at times, even to you, but you know he tries not to be.

Sleet gently ticks against the window, filling the silence in the hotel room. As per usual on nights like this, you use it to calm the both of you down.

Until your skin is tear-stained.

Both your hearts cracked a little more.

And Alfie’s asleep.

Tag list: @potter-solomons @zablife @vir-tual @hecatemoon87 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @buttercupsandboys @solomons-finest-rum @wandawiccan60 @mollybegger-blog @babaohhhriley

#Alfie Solomons #Alfie Solomons imagine #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagine #Alfie Solomons x Reader

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harmonysanreads · 11 months

Note

[Side-eyes the Yan!Neuvillette posts] I'm already down bad for most of the people you've written for - Vampire!Alhaitham, Yandere!Kaveh, and The Sumeru Hexagon, etc. If you end up writing Yandere!Neuvillette, I think I'm going to go absolutely feral (with excitement), because he's caught my eye too.

That being said, we are speculating on crumbs, so how about a fun pre-Fontaine release imagine, with a Yan!Neuvillette and a lawyer!Darling?

----

With Neuvillette in the highest echelons of the Fontaine justice system, trying cases in front of him never seemed to go any easier.

Even as a budding lawyer, you never thought the petty cases you handled would ever be seen by him. But yet, here you were once again. For the fifth time this month. You let out a small young. Adjusting your suit and blouse, you force your eyes to read over the case brief in front of you for what seemed like the thousandth time.

You don't know what it was about Neuvillette. Perhaps it was his position, or perhaps it was the fact that he managed to be your judge overseeing all the cases you've ever presented on so far. But you ended up tongue tied in front of him, though you've tried to keep it to a minimum.

The last time you were in front of him though, you messed up on some of Fontaine's legal procdures and evidence rules, and he took it upon himself to personally drill you and oversee your studies instead of sanctioning you.

You were thankful for that. As a budding lawyer, getting a sanction this early on in your career was a death sentence. You knew nobody would ever want to work with you if you got sanctioned.

The trade-off, however, was that his personal brand of tutoring left you alone under his watchful eyes in the large library of Fontaine, surrounded by encyclopedias and legal codices after you were done with your case work. You couldn't leave his side until you finished all the work he assigned you, which, at the rate you were going, was likely going to take a long while. Staying up for nights and days in the library doing his work took a toll on you.

You did debate on arguing against him for your freedom, a couple of weeks after this arrangement, but decided against it. The threat of a sanction above your head loomed large. Plus, as the highest judge in the land, he could easily out argue you, a greenhorn.

Your focus started to blur, and your head fell forward and into your padfolio, tired from trying to finish the mountain of work Neuvillette assigned you this week. Your hands clung tightly to the case notes you were feverishly studying.

Even in your dreams, you hoped and prayed that Neuvillette wasn't nearby. He would likely give you even more work if he saw the state you were in.

For once, maybe in the land of dreams, you could get away from him.

Awww Alhaitham turned out to be my most-written for genshin character (at present) and seeing as how things are going with Neuvillette, I fear for my sleep schedule 😂 Fontaine characters have so much yandere potential so unless I get absolutely burnt out from studies I hope to give them the same love :> That being said, I'll try to envision Neuvillette's pov here! [note : written before fontaine release so all imagination.]

Neuvillette has pondered about the nature of corruption for a while.

It's not that abnormal a musing given his position, though it is unusual that he's felt a certain discomfort at the clearing of his thoughts — the judge's exposure to such philosophies are as regular as sunlight, so expanding on his understanding should only serve to benefit him. And yet, he finds himself more unsettled than not at the prospect. He wouldn't be, if he still had confidence in his restraint ; that being the graver issue, if the Chief Justice of Fontaine himself would fall prey to temptation, what would become of the rest of the court?

Neuvillette is far from ignorant, he's known that both the general criminal and the one responsible for bringing them justice are susceptible to the same vice and only through restraint can they be differentiated. He's remained pure from its claws following this simple principle ; no amount of mora, land, promise of power, indulgence has succeeded in altering a verdict thus far.

Neuvillette's expanding paranoia might not have been so rampant if the temptations were this materialistic, no no, he would've even thanked his fickle heart if that was the case. If it had hoped for something shinier, something pricier — those are common desires for corrupt men, and yet, he found his heart depraved of the normalcy and instead yearned for something far sinister, forbidden.

Innocence is devastatingly charming, the judge muses. It's more of a weakness than a strength, especially if the bearer remains blissfully ignorant. There is no mercy for that in the court, even if one retains scraps of the virtue by stubbornness, the court will make sure it is forever lost in its whimsical prance. Simply because, there is no real virtue to be found in the Court of Fontaine, only masquerades of its idealisms.

And so, even the most resilient soul is bound to lose way in this charade, or at least, that's what Neuvillette has concluded.

#anon writing #neuvillette brainrot #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x you #fontaine #who can blame darling honestly i would NEVER want to speak up in front of that man

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