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bloatedandalone04 · 5 months

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Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.4

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin feels completely isolated from you for the first time in five years, and he doesn’t know if he will ever be given the chance to fix his mistake.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Anakin gave his guitar to Theo as he sprinted off stage and towards the very dressing room he broke your heart in.

You never came back after walking away at the beginning of the show, and that had him completely on edge. He looked around the backstage area and when he couldn’t find you anywhere, he checked the dressing room. But you weren’t in there either.

Maybe you went back to the bus? God, he hoped so. He just got you back, he couldn’t handle losing you again so soon, and for a completely different reason this time.

His nerves were completely shot as he practically sprinted to the bus, the only thought on his mind being to get back to you and further explain things to you. If he needed to drop to his knees and beg for you, he was more than willing to do so, because you were it. His one and only, and you always would be.

The show tonight was one of the longer ones, so in the two hours he was on stage you could have literally gone anywhere. His heart was in his throat as he pulled open the bus door and looked around, and he could feel it quicken its pace as he realized that you weren’t here either.

Where the fuck did you go? You told him you’d be here after the show, yet he couldn’t find any trace of you.

Actually, he couldn’t find any sign of you at all. Your bag was gone, your jacket was picked up from off the couch, and your laptop wasn’t on the table anymore. “No,” he rasped. “Fuck. No.”

His hands were shaking as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called you, but he was sent straight to voicemail.

You were ignoring him.

“Fuck,” he nearly yelled as he called you again, only to be met with the same result. “Fuck!”

After the third call he was forced to leave you a message, and he felt as pathetic as he sounded. “Baby, please. Please….call me back. I’m so sorry,” he rambled as he pulled at his sweaty hair. “We need to talk about this more, we have to work this out, I….fuck, Y/n, you said you’d be here after the show.”

He was crying now and was choking on his words as he said them, and he hoped you would be able to understand him, but he also hoped you couldn’t. He hated the fact that he was the one crying after he fucked things up, possibly beyond repair, when he really had no right to.

“Please, just…tell me where you are and that you’re okay and safe, please,” he begged and dropped onto the couch. “I love you.”

His phone fell to the floor after that and his hands came up to cover his face.

He had no idea what to do. He was shaking and his eyes were sore as he couldn’t seem to stop the tears from leaving them.

What the fuck is he going to do? How is he going to fix this?

He can’t lose you. He can’t, he wouldn’t be able to function without you. The thought of not having you around him after this was enough to send him into a panic attack, and he knew he needed to get a hold of himself, but he didn’t know how.

You weren’t here, weren’t at the venue, and your stuff was gone. Where did you go? You wouldn’t have left without telling him, right? You wouldn’t have gone back to London and not tell him, right?

He didn’t know anymore.

His phone went off from its place on the floor, and he scrambled off the couch to grab it, and when he saw that it was you who texted him, he nearly cried of joy. But your message wasn’t what he wanted to read, and it left him feeling even worse.

Princess: I’m safe. I just need some time to think. Please, at least give me that.

You slept on a chair in the airport last night, your duffle bag being your pillow and your jacket being your blanket.

Your eyes were bloodshot and sore beyond words from all the crying you’ve done since Anakin told you that he cheated on you. Did that count as him cheating on you? Not exactly, but his lips touched someone else’s, so what did that make it? Accidentally cheating? You didn’t know and you were too upset to care about what to call it.

After he went on stage and began the show, you couldn’t stand it anymore and left. You went back to the bus and was originally going to stay there and sleep on the couch, but the more you got into your head, the more you wanted to get the fuck out of there completely.

Running away from your problems never helped anybody, but you were too stubborn to think rationally at this point.

So you bought a ticket for the earliest flight back to London and grabbed your things before fleeing from the bus and sending him a text after listening to his voicemail.

You felt bad about leaving like that, but you were so upset and hurt. Your heart felt like it had been physically ripped from your body and been left back with Anakin in Paris; the place you wanted to visit for so long now with the love of your life. And the two days you were there with him were amazing, and you were prepared for so much more, but every hope and dream you had for that city had been crushed and destroyed. You weren’t sure you ever wanted to go back, Eiffel Tower be damned.

There were other towers you could see, right?

The whole flight back to London you wrote down the last few chapters for your short story in your notebook, needing the distraction to help keep you sane enough to be able to get back to your room in one piece.

You looked like a mess once you got back onto campus, and you avoided everyone like the plague as you made a beeline towards your dorm and had a forty five minute shower. It helped a little bit, but you were still left feeling empty as you sat down on your bed with wet hair and opened up your laptop to type out what you wrote down on the plane.

After you added some final touches, you printed it out and got changed into a pair of jeans and a grey shirt, leaving your hair still damp as you made your way to Kenneth’s classroom.

It was empty when you entered it, and he looked up at you in surprise when you closed the door behind you and walked over to him. “Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted and closed the book he was reading. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. I thought you’d still be with that boyfriend of yours.”

The mention of Anakin had a sharp pain shoot straight through your heart, and you flinched slightly as you cleared your throat. “Yeah, something happened with that,” you whisper and he gives you a look of concern as he notices the way your eyes glaze over with tears. “I’m okay. Promise.”

He gives you a smile that nearly had you sobbing right then and there, because how the fuck did things get to this? How did you end up back in London, crying in front of your instructor with wet hair that dampened your shirt as the seconds went on?

“Alright,” he said quietly and braced his elbows on his desk. “What’s going on?”

His voice was so comforting and caring, you allowed your walls to come down a bit as you held up the stack of papers in your hand and wiped your eyes with your other. “I wrote my short story,” you announce. “I didn’t get around to editing it, so it’s probably full of errors, but I just wanted to give it to you because..”

You stopped your sentence short, but Kenneth gave you a look that told you he knew exactly what you were saying. “Because you’re not coming back to class,” he finished for you. “Are you?”

He stated it instead of asking it, and you bite down on your bottom lip as you nodded. Glancing down at the papers in your hands, he gestures for you to give them to him, and you do so with a sad smile. “You don’t have to read it,” your voice broke as you felt yourself beginning to cry again. “I just wanted to show that I really did love every second of these classes. I know I can do so much more, but it’s just not a good time for me right now.”

Kenneth flipped through the pages and looked up at you. “I’ll read it,” he promised, his gaze the softest you had ever seen it, and you realized just how much you would miss being able to talk to him like this and not feel embarrassed about it. “You’re an amazing writer, Y/n. It was a privilege to have you in my class, and I hate to see you go so soon, but I also want you to start putting yourself first. You’re always worried about everyone else around you, don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. Whatever happened before this, don’t let it take over. Use it, if it helps.”

You nod and wipe at your eyes with both hands now, sniffling quietly as you look at the man you respect deeply.

“You’re going to go on and do great things. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you,” he lightened the mood by laughing and it made you laugh, too. “Just don’t forget to put yourself first. I remember when my teacher told me that, and it stuck with me for most of my life. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear it until he said it.”

And you didn’t either.

It was true, you put everyone above yourself and it often made you forget to take care of yourself. But not anymore.

You were going back home, and you were dropping out of the program, but you weren’t quitting. You just needed to figure some things out and keep yourself grounded until you decided what was going to happen next.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Kenneth nodded and set your story down onto his desk. “Good luck, Y/n,” he said and it was the second time he used your first name since you walked in here, and it somehow made everything seem so much more real. You weren’t his student anymore. “I’ll reach out to you once I’ve finished reading this.”

“Okay,” you nod and turn around, giving the classroom one last look before heading towards the administrative office to officially drop out of the school.

You cried more as you packed up your room, and then Bailey came in and let you cry onto her shoulder as she held you and told you to keep in touch. After that you met Evan’s eyes from across campus, and the three bags you were carrying told him all he needed to know.

He brought you into his arms, too, and these were the people you were going to miss most about this chapter in your life. “Call me whenever you need to, okay? Or whenever you want to,” he begged and you nod against his chest. “Fuck, this sucks. I’m going to miss you.”

You laugh sadly, “I’m going to miss you, too,” then you step away and get a ride back to the airport, your heart feeling the heaviest its felt in all the twenty two years you’ve been alive.

Anakin didn’t sleep at all, but that was no surprise.

He got a good two nights of sleep with you while you were here, but now that you were gone, his sleep schedule was already back to being fucked.

His whole body felt weak as he paced around backstage, holding his phone up to his ear as he called you for the first time today. He told himself that he’d give you some time, but fuck that. He missed you and needed to see where things were with you at the moment.

“Hi,” you answered, making Anakin instantly stop pacing.

“Hi,” he said back quickly. “How are you? Where are you?” He had no idea where you were since you only told him that you were safe, and he wasn’t one of those boyfriends that needed their girlfriends location on all the time.

“In the car,” you answered and he felt his heart drop. “On the way to the airport.”

“The…airport?” He stuttered, his eyes burning as he let your words sink in. “You’re going back to London?”

“No,” you say quietly, and he could hear in your voice the way you were holding back tears. “I’m already in London. I’m going back home, Anakin.”

Anakin felt his whole body tense up, and it felt almost painful to move. So he stayed still as he tried to process your words. “You’re in London? How? When?”

“Last night. I bought a ticket and left. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I just don’t know what to do anymore, Anakin,” you cried and the remaining pieces of his heart shattered to bits. “I dropped out of the writing program and now I’m on my way back home. I need to feel normal right now or I might just go crazy.”

“Baby,” he shakily said as he met Vinny’s eyes from across the room. His friend gave him a concerned look, but Anakin just turned around and headed for the dressing room. “Baby, please.”

“Please, what? I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what to say,” you sobbed and he let the door close loudly behind him once he reached the dressing room.

“Say that we’re going to be okay,” he begged, beginning to pace around the small room as he tugged at his hair. “Say that you and I will be fine, that we’ll talk this through and that we’re going to be okay.”

You were quiet for a few seconds, leaving him to listen to your uneven breathing. “You’re in Paris, Anakin,” he hated the way you hadn’t called him Ani even once since the start of this call. “I’ll be in LA tomorrow. Maybe this time away from each other will be good.”

“We’ve been away from each other,” he said as his heart twisted in agony. “I don’t want more time apart.”

“You’re on tour, Anakin-”

“I’ll come home,” he cut you off. “I’ll talk to Helena, we’ll stop the tour for a few weeks or something. Please.”

You sniff quietly. “The tour is too important,”

“You’re more important. We’re more important,” he thought maybe he was getting through to you, but then you destroyed that small ounce of hope with a single sentence.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered. “I need time. Have fun on the rest of the tour, Anakin. I really mean that.”

Then you hung up before he could say another word, leaving him to call you back three times before you turned your phone off.

“Fuck!” Anakin yells out and throws his phone onto the couch before sitting down next to it, his hands coming up to cover his face as he tries to hold back his tears.

This was all his fault. He fucked things up between you beyond repair, and he was the one to blame.

You flew back to London, for fucks sake, and the whole time he thought you were still here. And now you’re going back to LA, back to the apartment you and he shared, and possibly packing up there as well.

What was he supposed to do? He needed to be on stage in less than twenty minutes, and he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Anakin looked around the room wildly, as if anything he would help him even a little bit. His eyes landed on the various alcohol bottles placed on a table in the corner, and he knew he shouldn’t. The last time he drank was at the club with Liz, then she kissed him and he threw up twice and swore he’d never drink again.

But it was different this time.

He needed to feel nothing right now, to get him through the show, then he’d figure out how to fix things.

Without giving it a second thought, Anakin grabbed the first bottle he could reach and spent the next ten minutes drinking it. He set the now empty bottle down and left his phone on the couch, swinging the door open and stumbling his way backstage.

The first person he saw was Liz. Of course it was Liz.

Anakin’s eyes glazed over and he made it to her in less than four strides. She turned to face him with that fucking smirk of hers, and he narrowed his eyes on the bruise that had formed on the bridge of her nose, and for a split second he was proud that his girlfriend did that to her, then he remembered that you might not be his girlfriend anymore. “There you are,” she cooed. “We were starting to get worried.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, getting into her personal space. This was another situation where he could use his size to his advantage, even if he hated to do it, but he didn’t care right now. “This is all your fault. Y/n left because of what you did, because of what we did. Are you happy? Are you fucking proud of yourself?”

Vinny, who was standing nearby quickly made his way over, as did Helena, who had been talking with Theo a few feet away. “Anakin,” Vinny murmured, pulling on his arm. “Hey, don’t do this, man. She’s not worth it.”

Helena guided Liz away and towards the side of the stage, and Anakin could see how angry his manager was as she talked to the photographer.

Anakin turned to Vinny, his eyes burning and his head spinning. “She left,” he rasped. “She left, Vin. Y/n left to go back home.”

Vinny stepped back in surprise but kept his hand on Anakin’s arm. “Back home? Like, back to London?”

“No, back to LA. She already went back to London and dropped out of the program and now she’s going back home,” he nearly cried. “She’s going to leave me, Vinny. I lost her.”

The drummer looked alarmed, and he pulled Anakin into his arms within seconds. “It’s okay,” he tried to comfort him, but they both knew it would never work. “It’s okay.”

Anakin felt pathetic. This is the second time Vinny had to comfort him in less than two weeks, and while he knew Vinny would never mind doing so, Anakin still felt terrible. It shouldn’t be this way. He should be better than this.

“We’ll talk after the show,” Vinny promised, pulling away and reaching up to smooth out Anakin’s hair. “You and I will figure everything out, okay? It’s going to be okay.”

Anakin felt like a shell of himself as he nodded and allowed Vinny to lead him out onto stage, his mind a mess of thoughts and doubts and worries, and all of them were about you.

The lights were blinding and Anakin’s vision blurred from the flashes. His head was pounding and his throat was dry as he tried to get out the last song of the night as quickly as he could, but he felt sick. The bourbon he had downed earlier didn’t help, either.

He felt bile rise up his throat but he held it back and tore his eyes away from the crowd so he could look over at Theo. The bass player gave him a concerned look as he began to sing the song as well, no doubt sensing something was wrong and deciding to help the poor guy out.

Anakin was thankful for that as he didn’t have to raise his voice anymore since Theo is singing alongside him now, so his throat was given somewhat of a break. While his friend didn’t have a strong enough voice to be the lead singer, Theo still had a pretty good singing voice, and Anakin knew he should probably start having him sing in more songs in the future.

He felt his heartbeat quicken as even more sweat began to settle on his skin. The flannel he had adorned at the start of the show had long since been tossed aside and had left him in just his graphic tee, but he was still so fucking hot, and the lights weren’t helping at all.

He made the mistake of looking over to his right, where he saw Liz and Helena standing backstage. While his manager had a frown on her lips, Liz had a lustful look in her eyes, and somehow that made Anakin feel even more sick.

His fingers fumbled on the strings as he messed up the tempo of the song, which is something he had never done while he was out on stage before. Embarrassment floods through him and he quickly falls back into the right rhythm with Vinny and Theo backing him up as best as they could.

All these cameras on him were not helping, even though he was used to being filmed at this point. He felt like was three seconds away from having a full on panic attack, and he would probably die of humiliation if he woke up tomorrow morning to see thousands of videos online of him breaking down on stage.

The headline ‘Anakin Skywalker Has Epic Meltdown During Last Song Of Show’ was one he refused to read the following day. Fuck, he hated those stupid tabloids. They were written by money hungry, self-obsessed assholes who wouldn’t know what privacy is if it slapped them in the face.

You hated them, too, and your distaste for them was more than valid.

He missed you. God, did he ever.

Anakin wasn’t used to missing you. He never needed to. Ever since his third year of high school he’s had you by his side. You were never more than a few feet away from him back then, and even now you were always usually backstage and quietly cheering him on. You should be where Liz is currently standing now.

Or maybe he should be with you.

Since the second you became his girlfriend you were always his top priority.

He hated that he had somehow managed to forget that fact the minute a pretty girl started paying more attention to him than you were. Could you be blamed? You were thousands of miles away and chasing your own dream while he was living out his. You couldn’t give him every second of your time like he was used to receiving, and he really fucking hated how he had actually managed to turn into one of those pricks who forgets about how good he has it as soon as things don’t end up going his way.

Anakin wanted to stop singing the song and call out to you, but you weren’t in the crowd. You weren’t backstage. You weren’t here. You weren’t with him. You wouldn’t answer him, because you’re so fucking far away while he is here acting like everything is just fine. All he wanted to do was to run off stage, find you, and wrap you up in his arms, but he wasn’t sure if he had that right anymore.

He’s insecure and has never been away from you for this long. It was like he didn’t know how to properly function without you by his side.

All the excuses in the world would never make up for just how poorly he’s treated you and for how little effort he’s been putting into your relationship.

He didn’t blame you for wanting to end it.

But he needed you. He had just gotten you back, just gotten that sense of normalcy back, but you were gone again.

Possibly for good this time, and he only had himself to blame.

One more part after this x

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wa-royal-tea · 9 months

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Ayeee look who's finally on Christmas break and found the time to open blender again! Working on a Will & Kate-inspired family pose with my beloved couple hehe. Maybe I'll finally continue working on my story too while I'm at it lol! A short life update under the cut!

School's been okay so far and shit was happening during it. My poor beloved laptop broke while I was in class and I had to send it for repair but the repair guy said my laptop can't be repaired bcs the damage is on the RAM and since it's soldered on the motherboard, I can't simply change it :') And UK's Huawei can't fix my laptop bcs I bought it at Malaysia's Huawai. So I had to get a new laptop 😭 Lesson learned; don't get a laptop with a RAM that is soldered on the motherboard. But yea, life in London has been okay so far. Just super busy bcs I had a pretty tight schedule and my classes has been suuuper packed. Had to run around London too to find a story for our class's newsday. I took a different course from my undergrad and it has been quite challenging bcs I'm not really familiar with it but it didn't take long for me to get used to it. I hope everyone's doing okay!

#WRTOOC #wip #also. My new laptop has almost the same specs as my old one. Just the screen is bigger #So if you see a screenie with a resolution that is bigger. That's probably taken recently #And the processor is new too. And the RAM and storage is bigger 😍😍😍#i'd say it's a good investment bcs i gotta do a lot of work on my laptop anyways

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moody-alcoholic · 4 months

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New Chapter Simon POV

This chapter took me 3 days to edit and write.

It somehow managed to be over 2k words longer then the Rosaly POV.

Enjoy :*

Rosaly POV

Simon POV

Preview

I was sat at the table, Price was typing away on the laptop. He told me to go away and do something but he was getting live updates on Rosaly so I wanted to be near by when they came. The last update we had she was being taken into surgery. I didn’t understand the medical stuff I don’t think Price did ether but he nodded and sent the medic back anyway. Rosaly would understand, then she would go on a tangent talking about how she would do it in the field with limited supplies like it was some kind of competition. It had already been 24 hours the first day they were worried she would not be strong enough for surgery so they had to wait, they gave her a blood transfusion and something else, I couldn’t remember the name. At one point they wanted to move her to a hospital in a bigger town but Price insisted she stay here as long as possible. I sighed.

“Riley!” Price snapped looking over his laptop. “If you’re going to be here at least help me with these reports.” He sounded annoyed I looked at him he closed the laptop lid and got up.

“Come on.” He said gesturing for me to follow I didn’t want to. “That’s an order lieutenant.” I sighed and got up following him. He lead us to the chairs Gaz and Rosaly had been siting on just a day earlier. He sat down and I did the same. He reached into the cooler which was still just sitting there and passed me a beer. He took one himself then reached into his jacket pocket pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a cigar. He passed the pack to me. I took it he smiled opening the beer. He lit his cigar and passed me the lighter.

“When was the last time we did this?” He asked as I took a cigarette out lifting up my mask and putting it in my mouth, I lit it and took a big breath in. It did feel good.

“What? When was the last time we got chance to do as little work as Gaz and Williams?” I asked. He laughed. I opened the beer can looking round the base. It was early evening and most people where changing shifts.

“London?” I said. I couldn’t remember, we spent some time in Scotland but even that was a sad occasion. My dogtags felt heavy on my chest. We went to a pub Johnny always promised he would take us too, he never got the chance so it only felt right to go before we spread his ashes. Rosaly would of loved to see it. I take a sip of the beer.

“Who did she write her letter for?” I ask Price. He looks confused for a second then takes a puff of his cigar.

“Who do you think?” He asked. I knew it would be Johnny but he’s gone so it would go to Price. I sighed taking another sip of beer.

“She told me once she wanted her ashes to be spread at sea.” I said.

“You’re such a pessimist.” Price chuckled. My breath caught in my throat as he said it. All I could think about was her now. I took a long puff of my cigarette letting it warm my body.

“Typical navy,” Price said breaking the silence. I pass the packet of cigarettes to Price I have no idea why he carries them. I take another deep inhale of the cigarette. Rosaly would have a field day knowing I had been smoking. I smiled think back to her lecture she shouted at me when she caught me. The screaming match we got into when I told her it was none of her business. She was so stubborn. All of a sudden the cigarette tasted horrible. I flicked the rest of it on the floor watching it burn out.

“Captain Price?” A voice says I look up. Its someone from the medical team dressed in blue scrubs.

“Yes?” He says.

“Dr. Clark wanted me to give you an update. He was able to repair the damage to the liver and kidneys, but he had to remove a portion of her spleen. He wanted to give you that update, she’s doing good.” I look up at the man he looks nervous, Price thanks him and waves him away. He salutes and turns back to the med bay.

“What even is a spleen?” Price asked. I chuckled, taking a sip of beer.

“Next to the liver right?” I say, I definitely did not pay enough attention to secondary school biology to know what it was. I finished the beer and put my mask down. I heard Price sigh and get up. He took a step forward before looking back at me.

“Go get some rest,” He says, I was in no mood to fight. At least the latest update was good. I nod at him and watch as he walks off back to the command tent. I stood up throwing the can in the trash. My lungs felt warmed and my body felt hot the effects of the alcohol helping. I walked over to the tent I was sharing with Gaz. He was already asleep he had been for a few hours now. I tried to silently take my boots and belt off as I laid down in the bed. The horrible military canvas beds and the even worse pillows. If anything at least Rosaly will get a nice sleep in those hospital beds. I tried not to think about her I closed my eyes trying to think of anything else

#fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick

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tamorisana · 7 months

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Stupid.

This is stupid.

He stands on the cold floors of the train station, cold and late. The smell of petrichor is awfully strong. It just rained and it rained heavily. The usually-typical weather for London.

When was the last time he looked around? Looked at his work?

Ghost still keeps the carefully drawn layouts of the building before him. He knows, to this day remembers every single office space he made on paper, every single rosette in the waiting area, and every single trip he had to choose the best materials out of the best. Front of the main traveling station is a majestic mix of Renaissance and Gothic styles, his favorite, completed with matching landscaping and interior design to which, he has to give credit to whomever Price found for the job. His favorite project was the biggest project after the wars.

The robotic hand takes his ticket, checking, making sure it corresponds with the existing entry. "Good evening." The mechanical voice doesn't sound mechanical at all. Since when? "Please move forward, to your train №29636 "London — Glasgow" is stationed on track 7." The ticket is partially ripped but still valid for him to pass.

He hoped it would fail.

Price is stupid for even suggesting it.

"You should take a vacation." Is said between the huffs, voice is heavy with overnight coffee drive, the unfinished project laying before the bearded man. He still kept those stupid mutton chops. "You'll work yourself to death and I need my best lieut—" The cut-off is sharp. No more titles.

"Architect. I need you in a full working condition, Simon, not living on coffee, cigarettes and hope of maybe getting a new tattoo." Since when did he care so much? A long time. It's very... touching? but he's right.

He's right, like always right. That never changed, from the moment Price found him tied to the wall in that fucking basement, through the trenches and heli travels, to now. Now being in a good, famous even, studio? Office? God knows what they are.

Rejuvenate Structures.

"I have a place. Calm, far away from people, just how you like." he doesn't remember when Price wasn't this warm man who needs help with small details on the showcasing models, man who hated asking for help when he couldn't even close his hand into the fist. Man who sometime ago killed and destroyed in mourning.

War destroyes everything. Buildings, villages and cities, countries, people and their lives. Everything. Including you. Something inside you dies with people you kill or couldn't save. It's different when you didn't see the destroyed housing and rotting bodies, it's as if all of these are far away, with people who you don't know.

They can't bring back people.

But they can repair at least something. Make a better place and keep the guilt away. Keep the stupid figures of dead people he sees in his office during his all-nighters out of these walls.

"Sure. Whatever." You'll never be able to regret a decision so much.

Hope of getting a new tattoo with his initials or stupid soap stuff always dies last. It died once for sure.

Gaz is stupid for supporting it.

Messenger bag lands on the floor, heavy with the textbooks, notebooks and laptop. How does Kyle even manage to survive five classes with such heavy bag? How do you run from campus to campus with that thing?

Kyle always liked the feeling of the heavy gear, made it even more heavy with extra stuff that they almost never needed. "It's grounding." no one says otherwise.

"You look like death sometimes." he was the death at some point. "I think Price is right for sending you for a vacation." He sips his tea out of cup their Captain Boss made during the physical therapy for hand nerve damage.

Simon doesn't remember how they started these tea drinking parties. Stupid Fucking brits and things you do. It just happened. Kyle was exhausted. Simon was on edge and out of coffee. It happened once. Then again and once again. What do they say? Once an accident. Two coincidence. Three is a pattern. Fifty Sixth this year is a tradition.

You'd need five cups of tea to substitute a cup of coffee. A scientifically proven fact.

As long as you call Simon McTavish a science.

"You're just bitter he can't and won't do the same for you since you are in school."

"Oh shut the fuck up, Riley." Not a Riley anymore. Riley is dead. MIA. Would probably be presumed KIA for sure.

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terabyteelectronicuk · 10 days

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Electronics Repair In London

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#electronics repair in London

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rumade · 13 days

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Southwark food bank got broken into and relieved of £3000 worth of food, plus their administration laptop and phone. They need an additional £600 to cover the cost of a new door shutter and repairs.

You can donate at the link below. The food bank in based in Peckham, a historically poor part of London which has many families in need.

#food bank #donation #financial #mutual aid #peckham #london

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fancyfeathers · 10 months

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Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)

Chapter Twelve

Poisoned Apple

Prologue and oc intro

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven, part one

Chapter seven, part two

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

The next few days felt like a fever dream to you, apparently the Guild’s headquarters, the Moby Dick almost crashed in Yokohama. There was still no word from or about Miss Jane which unnerving to say the least for you all. The next few weeks came and gone and life felt normal, a few members of the society returned to Europe to visit family and friends, Emma, William, Henrik, and Lewis, they would be back at the end of the month. So now that leaves you, Dr. Stevenson, Victor, Alexandre, and Gaston alone here.

Dr. Stevenson and Alexandre were heading out for the weekend, going up to Tokyo to visit an old friend of the doctor’s, and Victor had been invited on a project to help with repairs after the Guild incident so you hardly saw him anyway. So this weekend it was just you and Gaston. You all had returned to the apartment complex now and so you now had your apartment that you shared with Miss Jane all to yourself now, but you didn’t like staying there, too lonely. So now you sat in Gaston’s lounge, he sat on a stood, playing the violin, while you read over the news, then you saw something.

“Hey Gaston.”

“Hm?”

“I think you should take a look at this.” You waved him over and he set his violin down and walked over, glancing over your shoulder. “It seems that gifted are committing suicide with their abilities after a strange fog.”

Gaston’s eyes narrowed as you spoke before he reached up and closed the lid of your computer. “Best not to worry about that, stressing will give you grays.”

You set your laptop aside and gazed out the window, it was raining pretty hard. Gaston’s eyes followed yours, he then looked around the apartment and ran his finger along the bookshelf behind you, not a spec of dust. He smiles and then looked to you. “Say I have an idea. We pack a lunch, go to your father’s estate, start cleaning, find what we can on where he may be, have lunch, bring a book, like an indoor picnic.”

“That sounds pretty fun actually.” You smiled and stood up from your chair, taking his hand he offered you.

“Then let’s be off, my lady.”

—————————

You arrived at your father’s old estate at around noon. You took the key Miss Jane had left you and unlocked the door to the old building, and it was as dusty as ever. Gaston stepped in the hall after you, sipping around to take it all in. “Reminds me of Dr. Stevenson’s manor back in London.”

“I’d love to visit one day.” You replied to his comment as you went to sit over on the staircase, setting the picnic basket and blanket you had brought next to you. “But this place is probably a lot more dusty.”

“Certainly, I honestly couldn’t imagine the doctor letting dust gather on anything.” He laughed to himself and walked towards you, hands in his pockets. “Well then, shall we get started?”

“We shall.”

So you and Gaston began exploring the rooms together, one by one. You showed each other what you found, strange objects left behind from your father that might have been important on a case of his once upon a time. Books in his study were unorganized but looking at them there was no way to organize them for they were all so different. Gaston found photos of your father and uncle along with another individual names “Dr. Watson” your father’s assistant, from what the old stories about him read. You also managed to find older documents from your father that you left inclined to read, they were about his old cases that he took when he was here in Yokohama. Both of you forgot that you came to clean as soon as you walked through the door, there was just so much to look at and see.

So now, hours had passed and now you and Gaston sit on the floor of the main entry, the blanket beneath you as you opened the picnic basket and ate the meal you two had packed, sandwiches, fresh strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, pears, and two apples.

“Strange to think he just left this all behind.” You said, pushing a berry past your lips. Gaston shrugged as he took a bite of a pear slice.

“Your father was a strange man.”

You laughed at that comment as you picked up one of the apples and took a bite…

Footsteps… walking down the hall

Gaston looked away from you alarmed by the noise, someone was here. His hands rested on his revolver as he stood up, looking around worriedly. “Did you hear that?”

You were to occupied to worry about the question, you eyes were fixed on the bite mark of the apple you just ate from, the fresh was black… it was poisoned. Your mind tried to process if you or Gaston packed this, was it slipped into your bag? If so when? You went to call Gaston’s name but all that came up out was coughs and wheezes as you tried to gasp for breath. You fell to the floor and Gaston was quick to kneel besides you. “(Name)! (Name)!”

Your vision was hazy now and you were just able to see the poisoned apple roll out of your hand and onto a ground where a figure out of the shadows came forth and picked it up.

Gaston’s eyes were wide with horror as he stared at the figure who held the apple, but the figure merely smiled as Gaston was finally able to speak out his name.

“Fyodor.”

Gaston’s eyes flicked between your unconscious body and Fyodor, standing over the two of you. Gaston tried shaking you awake as the Russian man stepped even closer but it didn’t work.

“Oh ангел музыки, she won’t wake up.” The Russian man spoke, kneeling down to Gaston’s level. Fyodor reached out and brushed the hair out of your face. “Not without me that is.”

Gaston raised up his revolver to rest in between Fyodor’s eyes. There was only a look of pure range on his face. “Wake her up or I will kill you.”

Fyodor’s smile only widened. “Shoot me at this distance with that old gun and you will blow your own hand off along with whatever damage would happen to her.”

Gaston didn’t lower the gun until Fyodor reached out, grabbed the barrel of the gun and lowered it himself. “So I have to play your game to wake her up, don’t I?”

Fyodor nodded and reached out for the untouched apple that was left and held it in front of Gaston to take. “It doesn’t hurt that badly if that’s what you’re worried about. All will be well when you awake.”

“Or I’ll be dead.” Gaston said grabbing the apple from him and looking it over. Gaston brought it to his lips with shaking hands, the composer’s eyes dead locked onto Fyodor’s twisted smile. With all the courage he could muster Gaston bit down on the apple, the flesh of it black like before. He was sent into a coughing fit just like you when he swallowed. He was gasping for breath as he fell into unconsciousness, his breathing heavy as Fyodor looked down at you two, wearing the same twisted smile.

—————————

You awoke with with a pounding headache and your body felt so incredibly stiff, like you had been asleep for days. Your vision was burly and it took a long moment for things to come into focus, you were laying in bed that wasn’t yours, in a room that wasn’t yours, dressed in clothes that you couldn’t see but knew aren’t yours. You tried to move but your muscles wouldn’t respond. The most you could manage was letting your turn fall to the side to see Gaston laying in an identical bed, asleep, dressed in clothes that weren’t his, and now you could also see an IV attached to your arm and one to his own. You could see a table in between the two of you, it had items and nicknacks from your pocket and Gaston’s glasses, but no weapons. When you went to open your mouth only a cough came out, your throat was like sandpaper, how long had you been out?

“Ahh мышь, you’re awake.” You heard a voice from behind you, Russian in origin. You heard a book close followed by footsteps approaching you. You felt a gentle gloved hand reach over and hold your cheek, bringing your face to face him. Before you there was a handsome man, he had black, mid length hair, dressed in white. “Do you know who I am?”

You couldn’t speak and your mind was too foggy to think but you managed to mouth the word no. He chuckled and ran his gloved thumb along your cheek. “My name is Fyodor Dostoevsky, my dear.” He watched as horror formed in your eyes at the mention of his name and his smile grew in his amusement. He leaned down so that his faces was only an inch away from your own. “I see you have heard of me, I have watched you for quite sometime and I promise you this is only the beginning of our game.”

He bent down to press his lips against your own. His lips felt rough and forceful, not kind and gentle like his touch. He reached over and pulled out the IV in your arm which made you wince in pain but he shushed, cooed, a kissed away your tears. He wrapped his arms around you and picked your limp body and carried you over to the arm chair he had been sitting in. With this new position you could see what you were wearing, a long white skirt, a black turtleneck, a white sweater, and white mary janes. He sat you down in his lap and took the book from the side table and opened it, you couldn’t read it because it was in Russian. He sat with you for what felt like hours and the only thing he said was. “Soon, it will begin.”

You didn’t know what “it” was but frankly you didn’t care, you just wanted to get Gaston and get the hell out of here. Soon you heard a groan from Gaston’s lips and your eyes shot over to the man who was coming back to consciousness. Unlike you he had at least some control of his limbs, must be all his endurance from his work with the society. He sat up in his bed his hand unconsciously searching for his glasses in the nightstand, you could now see at least the top of his outfit clearly, a white ruffled shirt, a white vest, a white jacket, white pants, but a bright red tie, it felt off for Gaston to be dressed in such things given his normal attire and personality. You heard a small hum from Fyodor as he also noticed the composer’s state.

“Good to see you awake as well, Leroux.” Fyodor said as Gaston slipped on his glasses and ripped out his IV which made you cringe. “I see you are as alive as every.”

“I wish I was dead.” Gaston was quick to snap back as he stepped out of bed, but having to catch his balance on the footboard. He paused in his tracks and looked around. “We’re in Mukurotoride, aren’t we?”

Fyodor smiled and nodded, setting his book aside. “That would be correct, I brought you two here so you will be… safe from what is to come.”

“Safe?” You finally spoke, asking a simple question. “Safe from what?”

A low chuckle emerged from Fyodor as he looked at you with those violet eyes. “You were reading the story, gifted committing suicide, the fog…”

Then it clicked for both you and Gaston. The fog is coming to Yokohama and someone is behind this all.

Fyodor noticed the expression on your faces and hummed, brushing his fingers through your hair before standing up and helping you stand along with him. Your legs felt jello but Fyodor rested a hand on both your forearms and hip, keeping you from falling. Once you caught your balance he let go, letting you stand on your own. He walked forward, towards the door in the room and unlocked it with a key in his coat pocket. He glanced over his shoulder at Gaston and you. “Don’t try using your gifts to escape, призрак and мышь. I think you’ll find your abilities have left you.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, concern coming across your face. Fyodor only smiled.

“You’ll see in due time. I’m sure my collaborators would be happy to explain when you meet them, but for now there are preparations to be made.” Fyodor said as he stepped out into the hall and you heard the click of the lock behind him.

Gaston fell onto his bed with a heavy sigh and you came and curled up next to him. “I’m sorry (Name), I have failed you. I let him get to you.”

“We didn’t expect it, Gaston. He took us by surprise.” You yawned in between words and so did he. “We’ll just have to be our own knights in shining armor, get ourselves out of here, escape the dragon.”

Gaston gave a weak smile and took off his glasses once more. “Yes, but I suppose for now we should get some more rest.”

“Agreed.”

You cuddled up next to him and just as you were slipping into sleep’s hold you heard his voice sing, beautiful, gentle, and careful…

“Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye

remember me once in awhile

promise me you'll try

on that day that not so distant day when you are far away and free

if you ever find a moment spare a thought for me.”

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #original character x reader #bungou stray dogs oc #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere dazai #yandere chuuya #yandere mark twain #yandere mori ougai #yandere Fukuzawa #Yandere Edgar Allan Poe #Yandere John Steinbeck #yandere fyodor

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talentforlying · 1 year

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re: constantine and technology, he's so bad at it that it's comical.

he didn't have a whole lot of exposure to its evolution outside of his friendship with quantum magic computer nerd ritchie simpson, and now he's old and it's everywhere and he doesn't fucking get it. he's awful with computers, the only washing machines that haven't broken on him are the ones at the laundromat, he got a smartphone once to look important but put a demon inside it to do shit For him (rip the vestibulian), he set up a website once and never looked at it again. makes him very cranky when everyone tells him to update his arsenal because he's tried, man, and it's hard.

on top of your basic old guy stuff, technology doesn't seem to like him, either. (certainly doesn't help that he has a habit of throwing, kicking, smacking, or smashing tech that doesn't work when he needs it to.) vending machines habitually break down around him, chip-and-pin machines at the shops throw up errors, and he has set off more than a few metal detectors just by being in proximity.

there's some argument that can be made about magic interfering with technology, two matrices that should never have intersected etc., but ritchie simpson is Right There combining the two with ease, and even if he's just a quantum theoretical genius, i do think that maguses in the modern age would have figured out ways to let the two meet/marry by now. so what it just comes down to is, either constantine is so bad at it that he breaks everything he touches, or technodemon ritchie is taking sweet, sweet revenge on him from hell. either is equally funny to me.

the majority of his begrudging flirtation with technology comes down to:

chunky dell laptop computer. he uses the same password for almost everything, and the few different ones are all written on a post-it note in a desk drawer. the one thing he's got going for him here is that ever since ritchie hacked his bank account, he's added a couple entangling magic firewalls that will set fire to a hard drive if you try to get in without the authentication invocation to disarm them.

cardboard box full of flip phones, busted smartphones, and sim cards. he breaks/loses so many phones that it's just easier to stock up ahead of time. the flip phones are easy, he buys them off ebay; the smartphones are more of a hunt-and-gather situation. he's not above rinsing out the odd phone repair store/apple store in times of great need, sorry to everyone who needed those things, though he does try to stick to high-end ones so there's a better chance that he's just temporarily denting some rich prick's wallet instead of actually inconveniencing people. he's got free and unlimited network coverage in london, thanks to his friendship with map, but that's highly dependent on whether or not map is pissed at him at the time.

walkman. they were invented while he was in ravenscar and he couldn't really stand listening to the tapes he had for a while after that (reminded him of the band and what happened), but cheryl got him the tenth anniversary model later for christmas and it was well-loved. he gave that one to gemma in 1991 when he was dying, and when he was healed, chas hunted down another one for his birthday.

5gb iPod that holds a hell of a lot more than that, thank you magic. lifted off an ex that was trying to kill him while he was in america, right when it had just come out.

unused e-reader. he was trying to be savvy and up-to-date, but the physical stuff just works for him better. he keeps meaning to give it to chas, but keeps forgetting it exists.

#me: today we are relaxing and queueing things for later #also me: nailing this to everyone's doors like martin luther's fuckin theses #also the number of times ritchie simpson's name came up in this lmao can you tell he's my favorite #but he's also Very entangled in constantine's tech history to be fair so it's acceptable this time #that gifset of him i reblogged earlier reminded me to post this #( headcanons. ) I'M JUST LIKE THE BASTARDS I'VE HATED ALL ME LIFE.

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pcxpresswimbledon · 1 year

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Laptop Repair and PC repair in Wimbledon

The Importance of IT Support and PC Repair

In today's technology-driven world, computers have become a component part of our daily uses. They are our windows to the digital world, providing work, connecting, and accessing information hassle-free. However, when these PC machines slow down and viruses or many more issues, it can create unproductivity and create so many frustrations.

This is where IT support and PC repair in Wimbledon step in as the uncelebrated heroes of the digital world.

#iphone repair #pc repair #wimbledon #mobile repair service #laptop repair #laptop screen replacement #macbook repair #london

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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This day in history

Next Saturday (May 20), I’ll be at the GAITHERSBURG Book Festival with my novel Red Team Blues; then on May 22, I’m keynoting Public Knowledge’s Emerging Tech conference in DC.

On May 23, I’ll be in TORONTO for a book launch that’s part of WEPFest, a benefit for the West End Phoenix, onstage with Dave Bidini (The Rheostatics), Ron Diebert (Citizen Lab) and the whistleblower Dr Nancy Olivieri.

#20yrsago Does media concentration matter if we have the Internet? https://web.archive.org/web/20030503062143/https://cyberlaw.stanford.edu/lessig/blog/archives/2003_05.shtml

#15yrsago Canada’s DMCA Minister weasels and fumbles when asked about his copyright plans https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5-wvCSy_y4

#15yrsago HOWTO keep your laptop’s data out of customs’ hands https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2008/may/15/computing.security

#10yrsago Abusive restaurateurs stage spectacular social media meltdown https://www.buzzfeed.com/ryanhatesthis/this-is-the-most-epic-brand-meltdown-on-facebook-ever

#10yrsago Pirate Bay co-founder Peter Sunde is a candidate for Pirate Party MEP in Finland https://torrentfreak.com/pirate-bay-cofounder-to-run-for-european-parliament-130514/

#10yrsago Canadian anti-piracy bounty hunters ripped off photos for their website https://www.vice.com/en/article/ppqn38/canadian-copyright-canipre-images-without-permission

#10yrsago Prince Charles’s housing charity gets into bed with torturing Bahraini dictatorship https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2013/may/14/prince-charles-criticised-bahrain-housing-deal

#10yrsago Rich New Yorkers hire disabled “guides” to Disney World in order to skip lines https://nypost.com/2013/05/14/rich-manhattan-moms-hire-handicapped-tour-guides-so-kids-can-cut-lines-at-disney-world/

#10yrsago Odd Duck: great picture book about eccentricity and ducks https://memex.craphound.com/2013/05/15/odd-duck-great-picture-book-about-eccentricity-and-ducks/

#5yrsago John Scalzi wrote a science fiction story about the DMCA to help EFF’s Right to Repair campaign https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/05/eff-presents-john-scalzi-science-fiction-story-about-our-right-repair-petition

#5yrsago A dozen googlers quit over Google’s military drone contract https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2018/05/google-employees-resign-in-protest-of-googlepentagon-drone-program/

#5yrsago Kansas finally bans cops from having sex with detainees, people undergoing questioning, witnesses, and people they pull over during traffic stops https://www.kansas.com/news/politics-government/article210902319.html

#5yrsago EFF has comprehensively killed the bullshit podcasting patent https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/05/eff-wins-final-victory-over-podcasting-patent

#5yrsago Judge to Facebook: stop deliberately misinterpreting my privacy rulings https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2018-05-14/facebook-faulted-by-judge-for-troubling-theme-in-privacy-case

#5yrsago How the “global super-rich” have honeycombed London’s posh neighbourhoods with sub-basements, sub-sub-basements, and sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-basements https://www.theguardian.com/money/2018/may/07/pool-basement-wealth-super-rich-digging-down-london

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

#pluralistic

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mybespokepsychopath · 2 months

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I just need to get this out somewhere. Just a personal rant

But basically I've moved home and gotten a new job in the span of a few weeks. The new home is a canal boat, it's lovely but she needs work doing, my partner ripped out all the stuff we want to change but then ALSO got a new job and has been too busy to put anything back in. So currently I have a mattress on the floor, a sometimes working shower, and an oven that only works in very specific circumstances.

My phone also got smashed and I haven't had access to my harddrive to back stuff up in a while and i'm so worried they are going to completely wipe it when I take it in for repairs, it happened a few days ago so why haven't I taken it in yet? well several people gave me all sorts of wonderful advice about backing up and mirror screening and so on and so forth and of course my luck being what it is not a single thing has worked.

I can't drive anywhere because I don't have google maps to hand, I have to rely on public transport to get to work at the moment and it's been cancelations after strikes after delays and I just want to lie down somewhere quiet and not be spoken to or touched or anything for 6 years.

I had to reset the cache on my laptop to try to get a tech chat to work which immediately logged me out of everything and I can't use the two step verification everything demands these days because OH my phone doesn't work.

It's so hot and muggy, and I've just started work in London and there are so SO SO MANY PEOPLE and honestly you'd think some of them had never walked down a street before it's just so overwhelming. The new job is amazing, the new boat will be amazing. But right now everything just keeps going wrong and I'm just so done with it all.

#personal #me #ranting

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applerepairldn · 3 months

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Laptop Screen Repair London - Apple Replacement Screen Service

MacBook Pro Replacement Screen - 2 Hour Service.

MacBook Air Replacement Screen - 2 Hour Service.

#applemacrepairslondon

#AppleRepairStore

Call 02071750701 anytime

#applemacrepairslondon #repair #macbook #london #apple #macbook pro #macbook air #apple store

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nshtn · 4 months

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about me [2]