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wosohermoso · 5 months

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Lucy Bronze

Mi Casa Es Su Casa

Warnings: Implied homophobia, FLUFF, none?

Lucy shows a level of affection that she has been holding back on for a while

“You ready?” I give Lucy a light tipped smile as she does the zipper up on her coat.

“Mhm” She nods, picking up the leash as my family dog Bessie follows her out of our home.

Lucy had been staying with my family for the past few days. It was the first time in a good while that we had been able to spend some quality time together. Despite having been together for over a year, the time we spent together in person was always hindered by however many days Lucy had away from training, which wasn’t as many as we liked, so we’d soak up as much time together when we could - for however long we could.

My family adored Lucy. My parents treated her like their own as soon as she stepped foot in our home for the first time, just as Lucy’s family did with me, and it was such a breath of fresh air knowing that our families adored us just the same. Being completely openly affectionate in front of them, though - was something Lucy struggled with - having been in past relationships in which her partners family were not okay with their daughter dating another girl.

Winter had hit with a vengeance, the misty air making the end of the walkways almost indecipherable. It was safe to say the pair of us were freezing.

I pull my scarf over my nose and mouth as we walk along the frosted path of the woodland park, Lucy’s hand intertwines with mine.

“I think I’m gonna help your mum prepare the roast when we get back” She states, her thumb brushing delicately over mine.

“Yeah?” I grin behind my scarf.

“M-yeah.” She nods. “Gotta show her I care, right?” She chuckles.

I giggle at the gesture, giving her hand a small squeeze as we continue on our walk.

Bessie trotted beside Lucy, still attached to her leash, while she sniffed around in the leaves.

“Alsooo-” Lucy drags out, stopping us in her tracks as she very carefully pulls me towards her.

“What?” I giggle as my hand glides effortlessly around my girlfriends waist.

Lucy pulls down my scarf as she leans down ever so slightly, placing her lips delicately against mine.

“I feel like I haven’t actually given you a proper kiss since being home” She breathes out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

In that moment - I realised that although Lucy had been staying with us for just under a week, we hadn’t really shown each other that much affection away from my closed bedroom door. I hadn’t really thought about it, because I respected Lucy’s wishes of taking things slow while family were around, it’s something she was wary about and for valid reasons. With the both of us being one of, if not, the only members of our families that considered ourselves to be part of the lgbtq+ community, it was always going to be complex to navigate, even if our families didn’t care. Having people pretend that they don’t mind, but then bringing it up in unnecessary situations was something the both of us had had to deal with in the past. It was just something that played on her mind quite a bit, and that was completely okay.

“Home?” I tilt my head, admiring how the faint white hue of the crisp air made her eyes look all the more greener. I was in absolute awe of her.

“My home is your home” She tilts her head to mimic me.

“Mi casa es su casa” I state, before her lips once again, press against mine.

The kiss was deeper, all the more meaningful, as she brings my chin closer with her thumb and finger, before her hand slips behind my neck.

Her head tilts slightly as I feel her tongue brush against my lower lip, a small giggle leaving my mouth as I feel her grin against me. The brisk air against my face was very quickly masked by Lucy’s lips, as well as her embrace. Not only did she make me warm on the outside, but so warm inside without even realising.

I open my mouth just a little wider, allowing Lucy to deepen the kiss, our tongues slowly brushing against each other in passion and unison.

This kiss meant more to us than any other. It was soft, slow, and it felt like we were the only two people in the entire world.

That was until I felt Lucy jolt against me.

“M- what the fuck” She gasps as her lips leave mine.

Bessie jumps up at Lucy repeatedly, her muddy paws leaving almost perfect prints on her grey joggers.

Lucy cackles, giving me a short peck on the lips.

“Okay Bessie!” She laughs at my extra impatient dog. “Come on!” She grins as she begins to be dragged along by Bessie, her hand latching on to mine as we are unwilling lead away from our intimate situation.

“Wait.” Lucy turns to me. “One more” She pleads, giving me a soft peck on the lips.

“One more” She kisses me again, chuckling as Bessie drags her further and further away from me.

“Wait!” She pouts, attempting to give me one last peck before reluctantly continuing to walk.

“She’s a jealous lady, aren’t you Bess!” I laugh as I watch Bessie pull Lucy along the crystallised path.

“She doesn’t like her mama showing affection to others, she’s the one you have to watch out for!” I snort.

Lucy flashes me a playful eye roll.

“Mama? Sounds good” Lucy glances at me, a soft smile sweeping across her face before her eyes avert down to her feet.

The thought of - one day - having children with Lucy made my heart burst, and I could tell by the way that Lucy looked at me in that moment, that that was what was going through her mind.

“One day, Lucia” I give her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze.

“One day” She nods.

#lucy bronze #woso x reader #woso #lionesses #reader x lucy bronze #england #lucy bronze smut #lucy bronze x reader #reader x woso

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 5 months

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@steddiemas Day 6 - Baking & Cookie Decorating

pairing: pre-steddie | word count: 1,911 | rated: G

A couple days later finds Eddie on his way to Steve’s house at the early as fuck hour of 8:30am

“AARrugh–fuuck!” he curses again, trying to stifle down another cracking yawn, “It should be illegal to be up this early.”

“You mean the normal time people get up?”

“No, normal is lunchtime. Realistic is two.”

“God, you’re such a loser.”

“And yet you still hang out with me.”

“Uh, no. I hang out with Steve and El and Lucas and sometimes Dustin. You’re just there by association.”

“Ouch Red, that hurts my soul.” He winces dramatically

“What soul?”

Eddie grins at her, “Touché, Maxine”

Her tiny, pointy knuckles meet his bicep as he pulls Bessie into the Harringtons’ driveway.

They’re having a pre-thanksgiving dinner with the party before they all have actual Thanksgiving with each of their families, and Max insisted on coming over early to help Steve with preparations.

“If we don’t go help, he’s going to do it all by himself you know.”

“Robin will be there, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna do everything by himself. You know Robin is moral support at best.”

“And what are we gonna be, huh? You think I’m any better?”

She had huffed at that. “We’re going, Munson.”

So, here they are. Like Eddie suspected, as soon as they breach the front door, Robin is visible on one of the stools at the island, sleep rumpled and a mug in hand, and Steve is standing at the stove already.

“Good ‘morrow to you, Lord and Lady Buckley,” Eddie bellows, startling them both, “Myself and the young Miss Mayfield have traveled far to be with you on this momentous day, and to offer to you our services.” he gives them a dramatic bow, glancing up through his lashes.

Steve is grinning, Robin has collapsed forward onto the counter in front of her, Max is groaning.

He stands straight again, “We may only be a couple of lowly peasants in your Kingdom, but the call to help was unavoidable.”

“Eddie did not want to come help, lemme make that clear.”

“Shut up, Max”

“You shut up, liar–”

“Okay, okay!” Steve laughs, interrupting them, “Many thanks to you both for making the trip; your help will be greatly appreciated.”

Eddie’s stomach goes soupy, he loves when Steve plays along.

“So, what can we do?” he asks, clapping his hands once and rubbing his palms together like he’s itching to get started.

“Well, it is still pretty early (“I told you.”, “Shut up, Eddie.”), so right now you can help by telling me how you like your eggs.”

The turkey goes into the oven halfway through breakfast, Steve having prepped it last night, so Steve starts to cipher out what else he needs to make.

“Dustin said that Claudia was making a pumpkin pie for us, so we’re set there, I’m making the sweet potato casserole, Lucas said that his mom is sending over a pan of greens with him and Erica, Robin has the stuffing covered–”

“I make a mean can of Stovetop.” Robin cuts in from the sink where she’s washing the few dishes from breakfast.

“Pretty much everyone else is bringing something…” Steve looks lost for a moment, then his expression turns tense, that crease between his brows cuts deep into his skin.

Max must see this too because she says, “What about cookies?”

“Cookies?”

“Yeah, like the sugar cookies you made everyone a tin of last year?” “You made everyone sugar cookies?? Why wasn’t I given any?” Steve rolls his eyes, “‘Cause last year you were just Eddie “The Freak” Munson,”

“Hey–I resent that,” Eddie pokes Steve in the chest, “I’m still Eddie “The Freak” Munson, thank you very much.” “Many apologies, Your Freak-ness, how ever shall I make it up to you.” His tone is sarcastic, but the words make a whole matter of unsavory retorts gather on Eddie’s tongue.

“C’mon Steve, I want those damn cookies!” Max demands, smacking a palm onto the counter to really sell it.

“Hey! Language.”

“I also want some of those damn cookies.” Robin agrees.

“Yeah c’mon Stevie, I didn’t get to have any last year and now I’m curious.” “Dude, they’re the best cookies ever. I hate that he only makes them once a year.”

“Okay, okay, fine! Lemme make sure I have everything I need.”

He does, so he gets to work as requested demanded, though he does send Max and Robin (with her newly acquired license) to the store for powdered sugar. “For the frosting..I’m sure you want frosting on these, right?”

Eddie sticks close after they leave, watching Steve work and passing him ingredients.

At one point, Eddie scoops up a cup of flour for him, only to have Steve wrap his hand over his on the handle of the cup and start to stir the flour in it with a fork.

“Uh, do you always need to stir your flour before putting it in?” Is that a thing? Eddie has never done that, even within the few times he’s ever actually baked something before.

“You do if the person scooping packs it into the cup like this.” Steve teases, spinning the fork around in his hand to scrape the now-overflowing heap of flour off the top of the measuring cup and back into the bag with the handle. “Flour doesn’t get packed down to measure, fluffy and loose measurements only.” Steve pulls Eddie’s hand forward and upends the cup over the mixing bowl.

Eddie’s mouth feels like it’s coated in flour.

“There! Perfect. I’ll need another cup just like that one.” Steve smiles and passes the fork to him.

He lets Eddie's hand go and turns back to the bowl, mixing the flour in with one of those rubber scraping spatulas instead of using the electric beater he’d used for the eggs and sugar.

“So,” Eddie re-wets the inside of his mouth so he can talk correctly, “Why do you only make these once a year?” He carefully scoops up another helping of flour.

“They’re usually Christmas cookies and I– aw shit.”

“What?”

“I don’t have any non-Christmas themed cookie cutters.”

Eddie immediately thinks back to one of the last Christmases he had with his mom. Ouch…damn it.

He gulps down the lump in his throat. “Do you have any empties?”

Eddie can feel Steve watching him as he works, carefully cutting the tops and bottoms off a good sized bag of empty soda and beer cans over the sink. He cuts the new aluminum rectangles in half lengthwise and sets the strips aside.

“You’ve made these before?”

“Yep! Easier to make your own than buy them, y’know?”

Steve chuckles, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“My mom liked to make new ones every year, so I have a lot of practice doing this,” Eddie pushes on, picking up a strip of metal and folds it in half lengthwise. “We’ll need some tape for the open side, but basically you fold it like this, shape it however you want, and fold the ends over each other to keep them closed.”

He demonstrates, making a messy heart shape pretty quickly. “You can link more than one together if you want, too. Make bigger ones…Ta da!” He shows off the ‘finished’ shape.

“Sweet!”

By the time Robin and Max return, Eddie’s got a pile of aluminum strips ready to go, and Steve’s done with the dough.

“Perfect timing, ladies, come help us make cookie cutters.”

Max pulls up a stool immediately, grabbing a couple of the metal strips, but Robin huffs. “Aw, what? We have to make the cookie cutters first? I thought I’d come home to a house full of cookies, Steve.”

“The dough has to chill in the fridge for an hour, and we don’t have any Thanksgiving themed ones.” Steve says, rolling his eyes at her. “Also, you weren’t even gone that long!”

Robin pulls up a stool, “Excuses, Steven.”

Turns out, there’s not that many shapes associated with turkey day, so after the obligatory pumpkin shape, and a surprisingly well-shaped turkey-looking blob, they make whatever else they feel like.

Robin uses a ruler she found in a drawer to fold some ridges into a circle shape, “It’s a pie, obviously.”, Steve uses a few strips to make what he says is an elephant, “Yeah, an elephant. These are the two ears and this is the trunk.”, Max uses two of the strips to make some sort of flower shape with five pointy petals, “A…poinsettia?” Eddie asks; “A demogorgon.” Steve and Max say at the same time. Ah., and Eddie spends his time linking a good few together to make the Hellfire demon.

“I hope this doesn’t get all blob-y.”

Steve looks over at his creation, “It shouldn’t, the dough holds up pretty well when it’s baked; that’s why you let it chill for a bit.”

He stands then, retrieving the saran-wrapped hunk of dough from the fridge and gets to work rolling it out.

Eddie watches the muscles in his arms bunch and pull, and, like a sap, thinks about how they’d feel wrapped around him. He likes hugs, okay? Sue him.

The four of them cut batch after batch after batch of cookies (each of them sneaking bites of the dough as they do), and by time they are baked and fully cooled, the sweet potatoes are in the oven, the stuffing is sitting done on the stove, there’s a sheet of rolls waiting to go in after the casserole, the others start to show up.

“Oh sweet, cookies!” Dustin’s finger immediately dunks into the bowl of frosting Steve just finished whipping up.

“Hey! Hands off, asshole, I still need to color some of that.

Steve passes Eddie a bowl of the stuff, a couple of drops of food coloring sitting on top. “Mix that up, will you?” I’m making the orange, that’s yellow.”

Eddie gives him a mock salute, “You got it boss.”

“Henderson, grab the sprinkles, you’re helping with these.”

The island is a disaster by the time they are done frosting the cookies. There’s colored sugar everywhere, loose M&Ms, broken pretzels, and there’s even a glob of red frosting hanging precariously from the underside of one of the far cabinet doors (somehow).

Each of the new arrivals grab up a couple of the cookies to decorate once they get in, adding their own goofy-looking additions to the heap.

Mike and Nancy are the last to arrive, toting a huge bowl of fluffy mashed potatoes, and they dig into the turkey soon after.

They eat and eat and eat, laughing and eating some more, that by the time anyone gets around to the cookies, the very outside of their frosting has hardened to a crust and the inside is still soft and sugary.

“Oh my god, Steve.” Eddie moans, “This is the best cookie I’ve ever tasted.”

Steve’s face flushes pink, but he smiles wide. “I’m glad you like them, Eds.”

“I need to take some home to Wayne.”

Steve passes him a tupperware container of their creations as he’s leaving, along with an index card with Steve’s distinct handwriting is scrawled across it; the recipe for the cookies.

Eddie gets home that night just before Wayne heads in for his shift. “Y’have a good day, son?” he asks, plucking out one of the cookies from the container Eddie holds open for him as they pass each other in the doorway.

He smiles wide, “Very..”

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gl1tteryzebra · 2 months

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I had a very pleasant interaction with a cute blonde-headed mechanic recently, now all I can think about is mechanic!jj...

the patchy sliver of shade provided by a low hanging loblolly offered a small reprieve from the heat. jj's signature collared shirt was now hanging open as he tinkered away beneath the bonnet of your car – that was how you knew it was truly sweltering.

it was a miracle you'd been able to rummage that half torn napkin from the depths of your centre console. after your engine stuttered to a stop on the side of some desolate road you were certain you were screwed– 6pm on a sunday night, even if you did manage to coax someone out to wherever you were, the rates would surely plummet your bank account into a state of despair– and then you remembered.

a few months back when you last had car trouble, the blonde slid a crumby piece of tissue across the till at his workshop with a wink, a number scribbled in blotchy red ink.

"you should really invest in a business card." you'd said with a grimace as remnants of whatever he'd been eating drifted down like heavy snowflakes.

" uh–well actually," he reached into his breast pocket, removing a wad of neatly stacked cards bound together by an elastic band. "we're one step ahead of you, sugar."

he passed one of the sleek black cards over as well, albeit a little reluctantly."what's this for then?" you inquired with furrowed brows and he laughed at that, genuinely tickled.

"oh that— that's just in case you're ever in need of my personal assistance."

and it was almost as though today was his manifestation coming too fruition.

off in the distance, through the thicket and beyond the marsh, remnants of daylight peeked over the horizon like a fragile yolk ready to spill into darkness at any moment. you wanted nothing more than to be tucked into bed with a warm cup of tea and your favourite book, but whatever was wrong with your car seemed to not be a simple fix.

patting down the pleats of your skirt, you paced leisurely back and forth before eventually clearing your throat. "how's she looking?"

"she?" his blonde head peeked out from behind the hunk of metal, interest glistening in those pale blue orbs.

"yeah, pinkie. are you telling me you don't name your beloved vehicle?" (the vehicle in question: his beaten up honda CRF 230 which currently laid discarded in a pothole with an open tool box spilling its content onto the side of the road.)

he snickered, removing his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow. "guess you got me there– that's bessie, the finest lass on the road."

you scoffed, "why bessie of all things?"

"oh-kay, there's no way I'll be judged by someone who named their car pinkie...and its not even pink."

"it wasn't available at the time!"

his lips tugged into a downward crescent, mocking your face as it contoured into an earnest pout. "now that's a true tragedy– oh, 'n you happen to go through a car wash recently?"

"uh–yeah. today actually, why?"

"welllll you got water stuck in the engine cylinders, blocking up the emission control system. it got real stinky in the cabin right?"

"yeah it did, almost as bad as a guys locker room."

"ha! sounds 'bout right," his ring clad fingers reached above his head to pull the bonnet down. your eyes naturally drifted to his exposed midriff; lean muscles stretching taut, flecks of sun damage marring his pale skin, a defined v dipping below his waistline...

snapping out of your stupor, your gaze lifted to be met with a knowing smirk– shit. you were surprised when he didn't comment on the fact that you'd so shamelessly checked him out, but even more so as he rushed to pack up his tool box almost bashfully. "uh–so fancy this, I don't actually have the tools I need to fix it on me."

"really? I thought you said you kept everything you ever need on hand."

"huh–oh yeah, well one of the boys must've stolen my shit, bloody typical."

"right...what should I do then?" he flicked his grimy hair from his forehead, regarding you with an impish grin.

"come back to the shop. I'll get my guy to tow your pinkie in tonight, get 'er fixed up bright an' early in the mornin' so you can be on your merry way."

"it's not exactly close to my house–"

he shrugged, persistent as ever, "that's cool, no worries, we've got a couch and some blankets if you wanna stay the night."

"what about you?"

"well I can't risk a thief in the night, can I? best if I stay too."

you resisted the urge to snort, what an idiot. "how am I supposed to get back to your shop now though?"

his eyes spoke for themself, gesturing to his bike as is if that was a stupid question. "oh–no, no no no no no, no way." your hands wildly gesticulated. no, absolutely not. you knew enough about jj's reckless and impulsive nature to guess how this would present itself in other areas of his life– most of a concern to you in this moment, his driving.

"hey, there's need to be scared sugar, I always drive extra careful with precious cargo." he cut himself off with a boyish chuckle as your face morphed into something deeply unimpressed. "c'mon, it's not exactly like you have any other choice...so whadd'ya say?"

you settled onto the back of his bike with a grumble, hands shooting up to adjust the helmet he loaned you (his only helmet). the engine revved to an obnoxious start and with a shriek you hurried cling onto his waist– heart thumping erratically behind your ribs.

"comfy?"

"shut up."

"holdin' me a bit tight, sweetheart. sure you're not enjoying this?"

"shut. up."

his chest rumbled with laughter as he took off into the sunset.

couldn't be bothered to get down and dirty with this one tonight, think I might just make a pt.2

🎀 @seabunni 🎀

#jj maybank drabble #jj maybank prompt #divider by @firefly-graphics #mechanic!jj #jj maybank x reader #want to write more about this #so if you have prompts send em in!!#especially smutty ones hehe #obx x reader

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subtly-a-selkie · 1 year

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OMG IM SO NERVOUS KDJSB

but like imagine hiro with an s/o who loves to collect random stuff or like picks up rocks and gives them to hiro and is like “here this rock reminded me of you” ODMSJSHHA

i absolutely adore this ask! it might just be because i do the same thing but i’m really excited to write it. I’m so so so sorry for the delay, i had surgery in july and have been recovering since then, plus the Anniversary was last month. (yes that's a long time but please cut me some slack I have been doing my best) anyways i hope you like it! because its been so long since i started it, i wrote it a little differently than usual. it's like a little collection of moments.

also! not only do I now have an ao3, but i also have a taglist! both are linked in my navigation.

Word count: A little over 1k :)

Warnings: Big Hero Six: The Series lore thrown in (Bessie is a meteorite bear, yes it is as weird as it sounds). We are going to pretend I payed for my own matcha ice cream and know how much it was. San Fransokyo cable cars are officially Not That Expensive because I said so. i apparently really like the word intertwine

"I'm back!" You exclaim, sitting down on Hiro's bed to look at him. He was still in the same position as when you had left, staring blankly at his computer screen, he had been trying to fix something on Baymax's suit and you could tell by his slumped posture he hadn't succeeded yet. He brightens up at your voice, and rolls his chair around to face you.

"How was your adventure into the woods?" He asks, pressing the save button on his document.

"Your phrasing makes it sound like there was a seventy percent chance that I would have dropped dead as soon as I heard a bird that isn't a pigeon."

"There's moose, mosquitos, and Bessie in those woods Y/N. I'd say eighty."

"Bessie likes me Hiro. Because I appreciate nature while you would rather wither away staring at a screen."

"Bessie doesn't like anyone. She's a bear."

"A bear that likes me." You retort, laughing at his expression. "Oh! I got you something!" You rummage in your bag and pull out a rock. "Its shaped like Mochi!"

"So a round rock." Hiro says and you gasp, cupping your hands around Mochi's ears, who had taken up residence on your lap almost as soon as you had sat down on the bed.

"Don't listen to him Mochi you are perfectly cat shaped." You coo at the cat who meows smugly in response.

Hiro takes the rock from where it lay on the bed, you had abandoned it in favor of the real Mochi, turning it over in his hands. You're right, he admits to himself, it does look uncannily like Mochi, even having discoloration where he has his patches. He moves his gaze to you and smiles, setting rock Mochi down on his desk.

"You know that ice cream place you've been wanting to go to? The one with matcha ice cream?"

You lift your head from your fussing over Mochi at his voice and smile back at him. "Yeah?"

He responds by standing up and pulling a ten dollar bill out of his pant pocket, then intertwining your fingers and pulling you up off the bed.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"Hi." You say intertwining your arms around Hiro's shoulders. He's sitting in his chair playing video games with Fred, and you're leaning against the back of the chair.

"Hi." He replies, as you rest your head where his neck meets his shoulder. You stay like that for a bit until his character dies and he disconnects the call, much to Freds chagrin if the whining from Hiro's speakers is anything to go by. He then spins his chair around so you are face to face.

"Hi." He repeats watching as your face brightens in remembrance.

"Oh! I have something for you." You pull a dark feather out of your pocket, smoothing it out before handing it to him. "It reminded me of you."

"A feather reminded you of me?" He says as he turns over in his hands.

"Yeah! It's the exact color of your hair."

"I don't think my hair is this pretty in the light though." He's twisting the feather through a sun beam, watching as the hidden iridescent colors are showcased. He turns suddenly, and places it with the Mochi rock, a patterned paper crane, and a few other items.

He turns back to you and opens his arms, you accept the offer for a hug almost immediately, resting your head back on where his neck meets his shoulder.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Your hands rake through the smooth quartz, and you turn a couple over in your hand before moving on to a different plastic box of crystals. You stop when you've chosen one and risk a glance over at Hiro. He is looking at the things you had handed him, the things that you picked out for yourself, this particular crystal is for him though, and you have to somehow pay for it without him noticing. Curling your hand into a fist to hide it, you tug on Hiro's jacket.

"I've found everything I need." You say smiling at him, he nods and leads the way to the cashier, placing your things on the counter, and reaching for his wallet.

"You paid for the food, I can pay for my things." He pauses.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." You wait until he's looking at what they have set up next to the counter to add the crystal to your other things, making eye contact with the cashier and then flicking your eyes over to your boyfriend. She seems to have caught your message, and wraps the crystal in tissue paper, along with a couple of the more delicate items.

"Would you like a bag?" She asks

"Yes please." You take the bag from her and intertwine your fingers with Hiro's, leading the both of you out of the shop and onto the streets of San Fransokyo.

"Where should we go next?" He asks you, bringing you closer to him by tugging on your hand, then lifting your joined hands and pressing a kiss to the back of yours.

"Hm." Your eyes scan the street you and Hiro are on, and your eyes light up at a banner that showcases the aquariums deep sea exhibit. You gasp, and turn to look at Hiro.

"You want to go the the aquarium?" He asks before you can say anything, and you nod enthusiastically. Luckily there's a cable car stop just up ahead, and you both sit on the bench as you wait. Hiro takes a drink of his water and you dig around in your bag to find his gift.

"I have something for you." You say. Hiro finishes zipping up his backpack and turns to look at you. You hand him the wrapped crystal and he unwraps it, turning the smooth rock over in his palm, and reading the little card that came with it.

"Did you get this at the shop we were just at?" He asks, a slight laugh to his tone.

"Yes." You grin at him and more of a laugh makes its way into his voice.

"I love it." He slips it into one of his backpack pockets and intertwines your fingers once more, resting his head on yours.

People tagged <3

@oyasumimosura your hiro fic is on my list but here's something in the meantime

#big hero six #hiro hamada #hiro hamada x reader #hiro x reader #tadashi hamada #bh6 hiro #big hero 6 x reader #big hero 6 #baymax #san fransokyo #hiro imagine

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writeforfandoms · 5 months

Text

Island - 1

Find the series masterlist

Here we are with a new series! I know, I know. I couldn't resist. This is a crossover with Ark: Survival Evolved but I don't think you need to know anything about the games beyond dinosaurs. And ice age critters.

You've been on the Island for a long time, and been alone for a while. So when you find a group of four men clearly new to the Island, you figure you'll take them under your wing.

After all, what's the worst that can happen?

Eventual Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

Word count: 4k

The first body was easy to spot, laying in the open on his back. He still had his clothes on, at least, sturdy-looking boots catching your eye with a twist of envy.

The one beyond him was a little harder to spot, in the shade and wearing dark clothes also, so he blended better.

Pulling Bessie to a halt, you slid down and patted her side, murmuring for her to stay put. A long stick was easy to find, and you approached the first man with caution. His chest rose and fell slowly - still alive. You took a moment to observe him while he was out. Thick, short hair, muttonchops, nose charmingly crooked. Hm. Hopefully he wouldn’t die so fast as the last one.

Crouching down a little ways away, you used the stick to poke him. Some people, you’d learned the hard way, came up swinging.

This one didn’t. He inhaled sharply once, after two pokes, his eyes snapping open. They were the most vibrant blue you’d ever seen on a person.

��What–?” he started to ask, head turning towards you.

“Easy,” you murmured, holding your hands up in a show of good faith. “I’ll answer all your questions, I promise. Here. Have some water.” You held out a skin to him, watching him drink. He didn’t guzzle it, at least, taking two swallows before handing it back.

“Where am I?”

“I’ll answer all your questions,” you reiterated, looking beyond him to the second man. “But first I want to see if that guy is still alive.”

He was on his feet faster than you would have expected, taking a couple staggering steps before finding his stride. “Simon,” he murmured, taking a knee next to the other man. “Oi. Simon.”

Simon woke with a low groan, and you handed the water skin to the first man. You could see two more in the bushes, one of them already stirring on his own.

“You know those two, then?” If they did… a whole group. It had been a long time since you’d seen a whole group dropped in together.

“Johnny,” Simon rasped.

“And Gaz,” the first one said, a hint of relief in his tone. “C’mon, boys, on your feet now.” It took him astoundingly little time to have all of them on their feet. You stood back a little, impressed and a little intimidated.

They were all big men, clearly strong. You did have Bessie and a weapon, but you preferred not to use them if you didn’t have to.

“Now,” the first one said, turning back to you. “Where are we?”

“Welcome to the Island.” You smiled wryly at them. “Don’t ask me how you got here, because I don’t know. I woke up here, same as you lot did. Come on, I’ve got food and more water back at base.” You turned away from them, walking back to Bessie.

“What the fuck?” One of them, Gaz you thought, exclaimed upon seeing Bessie.

“I know,” you soothed. “She looks scary, but she won’t hurt you. She listens to me.” You patted the big Trike’s nose, grinning when she rumbled affectionately at you.

“That’s a triceratops.” Gaz was staring at her, unblinking.

“Oh, that right? I hadn’t noticed.” You grinned, though, to take the sting out of your words.

“How…?” He trailed off, clearly uncertain how to even phrase that question.

“I don’t know,” you answered with a little sigh. “Come on, keep up. I’ll explain on the way.” You whistled a short note to Bessie, for her to follow you, and started walking. All four men kept up with you easily.

“Alright. Well. Like I mentioned, this is the Island. It’s… I don’t know how it’s possible. But it is. Yes, she is a triceratops. No, she’s not the only dinosaur here.” You paused and licked your lips, glancing at your new companions. “This place makes very little sense, honestly.”

“How did you know to find us?” That was the first man again.

“I didn’t. Today’s a gathering day, so Bessie and I were just out gathering resources.” You nodded back to the laden bags on Bessie’s sides. “Found you lot by accident.”

“You’re acting like this is normal,” the Scottish one, Johnny you were pretty sure, said, eyeing you warily.

You huffed soft amusement at him. “I woke up here, same as you,” you answered, smiling a little. “Someone took me in then, showed me the ropes, same as I’ll show you. And you lot aren’t the first I’ve found and taken in. Happens pretty regularly.”

“What happened to the rest?” Gaz sounded like he almost didn’t want the answer.

“They died.” You swallowed back the memories that evoked. “Not too far from base now.” You glanced at each of them and gave your name. Which is how you learned some of them had other names - Ghost and Soap, particularly. The first one you’d woken was Price.

“What is this place?” Soap asked, looking around as you walked.

“Not really sure,” you answered, pausing a moment to look around. Just in case. Never hurt to be on the lookout for predators. “Some forgotten island a mad scientist took over? Some kind of social experiment? Dunno. Doesn’t really matter, anyway.”

“Are you alone here?” That was Price, those eyes fixed on you.

“I’m the last of my tribe, yeah.” You shrugged. “But there are other tribes here. I’ll explain more later, if you want. We’ve got to get up here, then around to base.” You led the way, long used to the trek as you headed up the hill.

Your base was in a nice defensible location, backed up to a steep drop with a solid row of spiked fencing keeping dangerous things out. You pulled open the gate for them, ushering the men through first and then guiding Bessie through.

“Home sweet home,” you told them with a little smile. It was better than it had been when you’d arrived - you now had several crop plots and berry bushes, a nice paddock set up for Bessie and Watermelon, a separate paddock for Ripper, and a house with plenty of room, even with four new clan members.

“You did all this?” Soap sounded impressed.

“Goodness no,” you laughed, taking one bag off of Bessie and setting it aside. “No, I’ve had help, most of the time. Some of this was established when I arrived here, but I added the crop plots.” You took off the second bag and ushered Bessie in with Watermelon. “Food first, I’m guessing?” You started for the house without actually waiting for an answer, hauling one of the bags with you. The other could stay outside for a while.

The four were quiet as they looked around, something for which you were grateful. It gave you a chance to debate your options. You didn’t have enough stew for five people, but you did still have plenty of berries, and it wouldn’t take long to make up a batch of quick rolls. It wouldn’t be a feast, but it would tide them over.

“You said you don’t know how we got here,” Price said, deliberately making noise as he walked closer to you.

“Right.” You focused on grabbing ingredients for the rolls, sparing him only a quick glance.

“How long have you been here, then?”

You actually had to think about it for a moment, head tipped to one side. “Seven hundred and twenty… two days. No. Twenty three.”

“Almost two years?” Gaz asked, clearly shamelessly eavesdropping.

“Almost.” You frowned down at the dough, adding a little more water to it.

“And you’ve been doing this the whole time?” Price made a vague motion to the base.

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, giving the dough one more stir before you separated it out. “I’ve traveled, of course. Read through all the notes I could find. Learned the skills needed to survive here.” You shrugged again. “That’s how it goes here. I’ll be happy to teach you all as well.”

Price blew out a slow breath. “You haven’t found a way off the island.”

“Of course not.” You rolled your eyes. “Nobody has. I don’t even know if there is a way off the Island. I mean, there must be, the supply drops come from somewhere, but I’ve never seen a plane or anything.”

“There are supply drops?” Soap’s turn to eavesdrop.

“Of course.” You transferred the rolls to a baking stone, setting them carefully in the oven. Not as nice as a modern one, of course, but you’d only burnt a few rolls before figuring out how to make it work. “Daily, in different areas. I’ve got a big map up on that wall.” You pointed and grinned at the subsequent migration. “Home is the big blue dot.”

More leisurely, you strolled over to stand behind the men, observing the map. It was a complete map, with bases marked accordingly.

“What’s this, then?” Soap pointed to a green marker out on the plains.

“The horse tribe.” You rolled your eyes. “Pricks. They’re not particularly friendly.”

“I take it they use horses,” Gaz said, flicking a grin at you.

“Yeah. Exclusively. They will trade for carrots, at least, so they can be reasonable.” You shrugged. “Not often, but it happens.”

“And here?” Ghost pointed to the red dot up between two mountains.

“The Painted Ladies.” You looked away from the map. “They’re… a little zealous. Have no use for males, of any species. They use the red berries to make a dye and mark everything with it - themselves, saddles, clothes.”

“That it?” Price this time, examining the map more closely.

“I haven’t checked in a while, but there used to be a tribe down here, between the base of this mountain and the swamp. No idea why they chose there, but it’s not my problem.” You shrugged. “Oh! And hypothetically there’s the sky tribe, built mobile bases on a few quetzal, but I’m not convinced that’s real.”

You left them to continue examining the map, checking the food and tapping your fingers against the table. Still didn’t feel like enough, not with four of them. So you pulled out an extra slab of meat from the preserving bin, slapping that in a pan with some herbs and a few potatoes chopped up. There. That’d do.

“There are plates and cups in that cupboard,” you said, pointing, hoping one of them would take the hint. “If you wanna wash up, that’s out back. Just don’t drink the water.”

“On it,” Gaz said, moving to get the plates and cups. He even found the utensils with a little poking around. Good man.

Dinner was… stilted. You had gotten accustomed to being alone again, and they were still adjusting. Not that you blamed them - you’d been in shock the first three days you’d been here. They were doing better than you.

Then again, they all knew each other, so that probably helped. And, honestly, they looked like they were military. Big guys like them, combined with the way they’d looked at the map and the way they carried themselves… Pinged as military in your mind. You’d seen their type before.

You took the dishes out back to clean, waving off their offers. You needed a bit of quiet time to yourself.

Four new people, all at once. A group. You’d only seen pairs come in before, not a group of four. Honestly, it made you wonder all over again about whoever was running this. What did they want? What was the point of this?

Maybe there was none. Maybe it was all just an elaborate form of torture. You sure didn’t know anybody who’d made it out alive.

You snorted softly, shaking your head. No point wondering about it. You had too much to do.

Especially with four more people to feed. That would be a lot.

You blew out a breath. Hopefully these ones would outlive you. You didn’t know if you could handle losing any more people.

“Ma’am?”

You jumped, startled, and looked at Gaz’s sheepish expression. “Yes, Gaz?”

“Want me to take anything in for you?”

You huffed out a little laugh. “Insistent, huh? Yeah, alright, you can take the plates in. I’ll show you where the bedding is once I’m done out here.”

Gaz nodded, picking up the plates, though he didn’t move yet. “You alright?”

You shot him an amused smile. “I should be asking you that.”

He shrugged, looking down. “Big change for you, too,” he murmured, fingers shifting around the plates.

Your smile softened a little. “It is,” you admitted. “But I’m okay. It’s good to have people to talk to again. I’ll make sure to teach you everything you need to know about this place.”

He nodded, searching your gaze for a few moments before he left.

They all opted to bunk down together, which made life easier for you. The house was an open floor plan, so you just pushed some things out of the way, gave them bedding, and left them to it.

You, of course, did last rounds before bed, checking on your three tames, checking the fence, and checking the surrounding area through the slats in the fence. A few pachys, a parasaur, and a stego farther out. Quiet out tonight. Good.

The few crystals you’d left out all day were glowing softly now that night had fallen, so you brought those inside. The glow was soft, diffuse enough that it wouldn’t keep anyone awake (hopefully), but would still provide some illumination.

In case any of them needed it. Or you.

Murmuring a soft good night to them, you grabbed your own bedding and curled up in your favorite corner. It didn’t take long to drop off to sleep.

You were surprised when they woke at sunrise, same as you. You let them take care of themselves, instead pulling water to boil and working on biscuits. They were easy to make and lasted a few days, although you doubted they’d be around that long.

“You said there are supply drops?” Price asked, standing to one side while you worked.

“Mmhm. Not in the same spot, but they come down.”

“If you’re planning to go to any today, I’d like to go with you.”

You straightened after putting the last batch of biscuits in the oven, dusting your hands off. “I’ve got a few questions first. You lot military?”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest, watching you more closely.

You nodded. “Good. Think you can trust me enough to keep you all out of the worst of the trouble until you learn the ropes?”

His lips twitched. “Do we have a choice?”

“Always.” You frowned at him, disapproving. “You never have to stay here. If you really want to leave and try on your own, I can give you some supplies and advice. You’re not beholden to me, or anything like that.”

He only smiled, apparently pleased. “We’ll follow your lead.”

You blinked, not having expected that. “Uh. Good.” You ignored one of them snickering behind you and took the freshly-boiled water off the flame. “Right, those’ll take a bit. Let me show you the guns.”

That got all of their attention, and they all followed you outside to the weapons cabinet. You opened it with a little flourish, grinning at their expressions.

A few bows and crossbows sat on one side, arrows piled neatly below. Your pistol you picked up, tucking away so they didn’t get any ideas.

Which still left three longneck rifles, another pistol, and one (slightly broken) assault rifle.

“Quite a stash,” Soap murmured, going for one of the rifles.

“They come in some of the supply drops,” you offered, stepping back to give them better access. “And ammo, which is below. The assault rifle is broken, haven’t the foggiest what to do with it.”

“I do.” Ghost picked that one up and stepped away. You let him. Not like he could make it any more broken.

“Please don’t shoot any of them here, you’ll scare the tames, and that will end badly for everyone.” You left them to the guns, going to grab Bessie’s bags again.

“Not a problem,” Price assured you, taking one of the longnecks. Gaz and Soap each had one as well.

You nodded once, making sure both bags were empty and in good condition before you hung them on the side of the paddock. You’d take Bessie with you when you taught them how to hunt here.

You had a feeling at least one of them would be a bit… resistant to eating meat after this.

The biscuits went over well - Gaz ate four in one sitting. You packed up several more in a bag, along with two water skins freshly filled.

“Alright,” you murmured, taking them outside again. “Look for blue smoke, that’s usually what they use for the supply drops. Sometimes green. Once in a great while, yellow.”

“Blue,” Gaz called after only a few seconds, pointing. Towards the beach. Good.

“Green,” Soap called less than a minute later. You sucked your teeth when you saw that one - towards the mountain. Not good.

“Right,” you mumbled, chewing your lip. “We’re going for blue first. We’ll hunt along the way.”

Nobody said a word against your plan, which was frankly miraculous. You got Bessie ready again, whistling for her to follow.

“You tamed her?” Price fell into step next to you at the head of the group.

“Her, yeah.” You smiled. “The other two, no. Watermelon was tamed by the guy before you lot - Jasper. Nice guy. Former marine.” You shrugged.

“And the other?”

“Ripper was tamed by my mentor, Tom. He left her to me, made sure she knew I was friendly.” Your smile was tinted bittersweet at the memory of Tom. You firmly maintained you couldn’t have had a better mentor.

Not like you’d turned out to be.

“How does that work?”

You huffed, shaking your head even as you continued to scan for danger. “That’s at least a week two project, Price. Gotta learn the basics first.”

“Alright.” He seemed amused now. “Tell me more about the supply drops.”

You shot him an amused look. “I take it you’re in charge of the boys.”

“That obvious, eh?” His lips twitched.

“With that tone of voice? Yeah.” You grinned, though. “Supply drops usually have all kinds of things. Clothes, weapons, ammo, medicine, food. Anything that can’t easily be made here, or requires technical skills that can’t easily be learned. Sometimes notes, manuals, things like that.”

“And they drop daily.”

“Usually, yeah. They aren’t in the same spot every day, so they’re not always close enough to grab. We got lucky with this one on the coast, actually. The coast is less dangerous than the mountains.” You paused to take a quick look around, just to be safe, before you continued on. “As long as you don’t go in the ocean, anyway. Practically everything in the ocean wants to kill you.”

Quiet fell for a little while as you all walked. There was still a little bit of light forest between you and the coast, and the supply drop. The forest was usually quiet here, but not always. Fortunately, they seemed to note your caution and followed your lead, all without a word.

You could get used to that.

“I see the drop.” You blew out a slow breath. Once again, through the forest without incident. And still with plenty of time to let them do some hunting. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

Ghost set up keeping an eye on the surrounding area while you and Gaz pulled the top off the crate.

You whistled at the contents. Small bottles of medicine, bandages, a few splints, another pistol and ammo… And an oiled coat, which you promptly held up to check the size. That would come in handy on rainy days.

“This is a good haul,” you murmured. Coat looked too big for you. Damn. “Alright, let’s load up Bessie, make sure you cushion those medicine bottles.”

They worked easily, efficiently. Even if you did catch Soap side-eyeing Bessie when the trike huffed.

You broke down the crate the rest of the way, tying the pieces together and attaching that to the leather harness. Good.

“Right,” you murmured. “Hunting next, I s’pose.” You blew out a breath, hands on your hips, looking down towards the water. “We’ll start easy.”

“Oi,” Soap started, indignant.

“Easy for me,” you corrected with a little grin. “Come on. I can usually find dodos down this way.” A short whistle for Bessie to follow and you started down the beach, letting the others follow at their own pace.

The beach was usually quiet. At least, here it was. The swamp… much less so. But here? Not a problem.

“There we go,” you murmured, stopping far enough away that the dodos wouldn’t freak out. Not that they did anyway - they were pretty stupid. “Five of ‘em, that’s good. Right, just aim for the heads. They’re not smart and they’re not fast, I’m sure you can get ‘em.”

You stood to the side, letting them figure out how they wanted to do this. You were only a little amused when Price approached it in a very military fashion - he sent Soap and Ghost around to the other side to help pen in the big dumb birds.

Honestly, it didn’t take them any time at all to take down the birds. You whistled lowly. They were efficient.

“Keep this up and you won’t need me,” you joked, patting Bessie’s side.

“Think we still have a few things to learn,” Price said, falling in step next to you as you walked over to the birds.

You hummed acknowledgement before you grabbed the first bird by the feet, dragging it over to Bessie. “Might be a nest around here,” you said, glancing at Gaz. “Mind taking a look?”

Gaz was off with a nod, even as Soap and Ghost walked over to help.

“We’ll take these two back,” you said, attaching the second bird to Bessie’s harness. “The other three we can butcher here.” You shook out the oiled cloth you’d brought with specifically to wrap the meat in, laying it on the sand.

Fortunately, none of them were squeamish. Unfortunately, you only had two knives.

It still took relatively little time for you and Price to get the meat done and wrapped up.

"Found a few eggs," Gaz reported, carefully holding the eggs against his stomach. Three of them. Your mouth watered at the sight.

"Brilliant." You grinned. "Alright, this has worked out quite nicely for us! I can show you some berry patches on the way back."

None of them objected, so you got everything situated in Bessie's bags and started the walk back.

You'd made it most of the way when you heard the little growl. You stopped, hand going to your pistol, and you noted Price doing the same near you.

But the creature that stepped out of the brush was no threat. The hyaenadon growled softly again, gaze focused on you.

"Easy," you soothed, both it and the men. "Easy does it." You released your pistol, taking two steps back to Bessie and cutting off a chunk of meat.

"What are ye doin'?" Soap hissed, confused and a little incredulous.

"No need to panic," you soothed, stepping forward again, still moving slow. You stepped ahead of Price and crouched down. "Here, sweetheart. Here you go." You held out the meat, heart racing.

The hyaenadon crept closer, slow, cautious, a little skittish. It sniffed the meat and then, very delicately, took it from your hand. Its stubby tail wagged and it whined a little, chowing down.

"What is this?" Price asked this time.

"I have been working on taming this darling for weeks," you said, keeping your tone low and gentle. "I think this one is almost ready to come home."

"Ye can't be serious." Soap again, this time aghast.

"Of course I am." You smiled as the hyaenadon licked your hand. "Good job," you murmured. "That's a good pup. How about I bring you more tomorrow, hm?"

The hyaenadon whined again and scampered off back into the woods. You straightened with a satisfied smile.

"What was that?" Ghost finally, voice a low growl.

"Home first," you insisted. "Then I'll explain."

#island #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #f!reader

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loulouwrites · 1 month

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MOMENTS . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie's third child is about to be born, and he reflects on the births of his eldest children. warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, traumatic birth (but it's all okay), strained familial relationships, angst (not as bad as usual), swearing, murder, drinking, unedited wordcount: 2.4k a sequel to home but can be read as a standalone. <3

Alfie called his wife's name from the bottom of the stairs, his exhasperated shout echoing up the staircase and into the master bedroom. There was no response to his call, save for a pained scream that he was almost certain was not directed at him.

He breathed a sigh, climbing the stairs to at a time and knocking on the bedroom door, his wife's cries muffled by the heavy oak door. He called her name again, louder this time. "The kids are bein' fuckin' mental, I don't know what to do with them."

The door swung open, revealing a very angry old woman. Ms Abrams was a stern woman, she had delivered hundreds of babies, including all of the Solomons children, his wife insisting she was the best midwife they could ask for - she was also one of the few people Alfie was genuinely scared of. So scared he had considered stopping getting his wife pregnant just so he'd never have to see her severe, wrinkled face ever again.

"Mr Solomons, your wife is in labour, I will not have a repeat of last time," the woman hissed at him, swatting him away with a blemished hand.

"I don't know what to do with them," Alfie said, desperately, his hands thrown out at his sides. Ms Abrams gave him a pointed look that caused him to shrink back slightly, memories of her beating him with a heavy Charles Dickens book during Bessies birth flashing in his mind.

"You're their father, Mr Solomons - figure it out," she slammed the door in his face before he could protest, and he was left to figure it out alone.

"Dad, Bessie got into your office again!" Benjamin called from the bottom of the stairs, the giggles of his little sister following his voice.

When Benjamin had been born, eight years ago, Alfie had been mortified by the entire experience. His wife had woken up in the middle of the night, in unbearable pain, gripping onto his arm so tightly that in the haze of sleep, he had reached for the gun he always kept in his bedside table.

When she had told him to call for the midwife, he had done so without hesitation, and when there was no answer, he had sent Ollie to collect her and bring her to the house personally - it was a terrible first impression for both Alfie and Ms Abrams.

When the old woman finally did arrive, she had instructed Alfie to leave.

"Go to the pub or something, it's what most men do."

But Alfie was not most men, and had insisted he be close by, just in case. It had not impressed Ms Abrams, who had rolled her eyes at the gangster as if he were a spoiled child, before telling him to wait downstairs for however long it would take.

It was three hours in when Ms Abrams came running down the stairs, hurriedly asking him where the phone was, and he directed her to it wordlessly. He asked to her what was wrong, but she had ignored him, speaking into the phone in a tone that Alfie knew too well - panicked.

His head went fuzzy as he watched the woman clutch the phone to her ear, speaking in a hushed tone to whoever was on the other end.

"We need a doctor here immediately," she had said, and Alfie had started for the stairs before either of them could blink. He ignored the protests of the older woman, rushing up the stairs and into the bedroom too fast for her to catch up and stop him.

He didn't know what he was expecting - maybe blood, maybe his wife lying lifelessly on the bed - but there was no red stains on the sheet, and she was lying on the bed, very much alive, though pale and tired.

"Alfie," she breathed out, her head flopping back on the headboard. "What's happening?"

He had no response, he just lingered in the doorway helplessly.

What was happening?

"Get out," Mrs Abrams pushed past him, a man in a nice suit following behind her, giving the scared husband a polite smile as he squeezed past.

"No," Alfie spat at her. "You tell me what's going on."

Neither of them responded, sharing a worried look, before the man kneeled at the bottom of the bed, ensuring his wife that everything was going to be fine.

Ms Abrams glanced at Alfie, and with a heavy sigh, placed a hand on his shoulder to push him out of the room, closing the door halfway so she could speak to him through the crack.

"The baby is in distress," she said, holding a hand up when Alfie went to interrupt her. "It'll be fine, Mr Solomons, the doctor is here now. I'm certain it will all be fine."

But Alfie could read the midwife's face.

She wasn't certain - how could she be?

Eveything worked out, Benjamin Solomons was born one hour later, his cries filling the house, and Alfie shot up from where he sat on the floor outside the bedroom, waiting for the door to open.

"Your son is here, Mr Solomons," Ms Abrams said, smiling for the first time since he had met her all those hours ago. He nodded at her, pushing into the room as the midwife and doctor left, not paying any mind to them as he approached the bed where his wife lay, with a now quiet baby in her arms.

Alfie had seen babies before, though they were at least a few weeks old, cleaned and dressed properly, ready to meet strangers. This one, though, was purple and swollen, with his eyes scrunched shut and his lips pursed as he took in his new surroundings.

Benjamin was an ugly baby - but he was theirs.

"Bessie, please stop," Alfie sighed at his daughter as she sped around his study, throwing pieces of paper in the air, laughing when her dad would try and catch them before they hit the floor.

She was a fast two year old, she seemed to have endless energy that didn't burn out until the very end of the day, Alfie swore she tried to tire everybody else out first.

The knock at the door interrupted Alfie's protests, and he gave up, scooping the little girl into his arms and making his way to the front door, stopping in the foyer at the sight of his mother-in-law greeting her grandson and stepping into the house.

Her eyes flickered from Benjamin to Alfie, and the smile fell from her lips, pursing into a look of disgust.

"Alfie," she nodded, scoffing when the man ignored her, spinning on his heel as his daughter laughed, reaching her arms out to her 'bubbee'.

He was sat at the kitchen table with Bessie, pretending to listen to her babbling when the woman walked in, hand in hand with Benjamin - they had always gotten along - and it pissed Alfie off like nothing else.

"How long has it been?" She asked, pulling off her gloves and sitting in the chair opposite him.

"Four hours," Benjamin said proudly - he had been counting.

"Might be a while yet," she sighed, turning to her grandson. "Why don't you take your sister to the shop and get yourselves some sweets while we wait?" She was already reaching into her purse to pull out some coins before Alfie could protest.

"Sweeties!" Bessie laughed from her seat, jumping down and pulling her big brother by his hand out of the door.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that," Alfie grumbled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"They're just sweets, Alfie, it won't do them any harm," she waved a dismissive arm. "Besides, it looked like you could use a break," she let her eyes trail across the room - he would admit, it had been tidier.

"Surprised to see you, don't usually show up for these things," he was challenging her, and from the way she sat up in her seat, she was ready for it.

"I'm her mother, Alfie, she asked me to be here."

"Well she's emotional," he shrugged calmly. "Pregnancy brings out her meloncholy side."

"I'm trying to be a better mother, I would appreciate it if you let me."

"Yeah," Alfie scoffed, "too little too late for me, love."

"Glass houses, Alfie," the woman glared at him. "You've hardly been an outstanding husband."

"Never threw her out on the streets, though, have I? Let me tell you somethin', you can see her as often as you like but if you dare come into my home and try and poison her, or my children, against me" he leaned forward in his chair. "Your body will be floating in the thames before those kids get home from the shop."

She seemed taken aback by his comment, and it made Alfie want to throttle her, if it wasn't for his wife upstairs, he probably would. She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the two children running back into the house, the front door slamming shut behind them.

"Dad, she stole my cola cubes," Benjamin whined, pointing to his younger sister, who had a sly grin on her face and her hands tucked behind her back.

"I'm going to go and check on your mother," she spoke to her grandchildren, offering them a smile as she left the kitchen.

"Is mummy hurt, daddy?" Bessie asked, climbing onto his lap, a white bag of cola cubes in her hand.

"Yeah," Alfie nodded, "but not for long. It'll be over soon."

Bessie's birth had gone much smoother than Benjamin's had - from what Alfie could remember.

He hadn't been home when his wife had gone into labour, he had been at the bakery, dealing with business that could not be delegated to anybody else.

The was a rat in the bakery, and after months of searching his men had finally figured out who it was. The phone rang in his office incessantly, but nobody heard it over the sound of the man's screams from the main floor.

Rats didn't die quick. That was his policy when it came to such matters, and this day was no exception. It had taken hours for the man's body to finally give up, for his body to slump on the floor with little fight left in him, and that's when Alfie shot him in the head - like a lame horse.

It was divine retribution in a way. This man died while Alfie's daughter was being born - there was a clear winner in the scenario.

He had drank rum from the distillery after, the phone had stopped ringing and it was quiet again, and he took a moment to himself, drinking half the bottle before he decided it was time to call it a night.

He didn't drink the rum out of guilt for what he had done, nor had he done it in celebration - he just needed a moment of silence, a moment to cleanse his mind of what he had done before he went home and hugged his son and kissed his wife.

He had come home stumbling, Benjamin was already in bed, fast asleep and the house was eerily quiet - until he stumbled into the bedroom that is.

The screams were delayed when they hit his ears, a frown on his face when his bleary eyes lifted from the carpet to his bed, where his wife was sat up, a screaming infant in his arms and an unimpressed look on her face, the midwife stood at her bedside seemingly shaking with rage.

"Fuckin' hell, you had another one?" He laughed, throwing his head back. He was still laughing when Ms Abrams approached him a book from the bedside table in her hands, delivering a smack to the side of his head, knocking his hat onto the floor. "For fuck's sake," Alfie groaned, cradling his ear with his hand, but the woman didn't stop, hitting him repeatedly with the book until he backed out of the room.

"Go and wash the smell of rum off of you and get youself together, man," she hissed once she had him backed into the wall outside the bedroom.

He didn't argue with her, shuffling into the bathroom before she could get another hit in.

"Her name is Elisabeth, by the way," she called out after him.

Bessie was finally in bed when Mrs Abrams came into the kitchen.

"You have another son, Mr Solomons," she said plainly, her coat already on her shoulders and her bag in the crook of her elbow.

Alfie got up from his seat and nodded greatfully at her before he rushed for the stairs, glaring at his mother-in-law as she passed him, heading for the door.

Benjamin was already in the room when he got there, kneeling on the bed to gaze at his new baby brother in wonder, and Alfie approached cautiously, coming to stand at the side of the bed, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder and looking down at the baby.

It didn't look much different to the other two when they had been born, it had the same purple and swollen face, the same scrunched up expression on its face, though he was much smaller than Benjamin had been.

"What's his name, mum?" Benjamin asked bouncing up and down on the bed, trying to contain his giddiness.

"I think your dad should choose this time," she said, looking up at her husband with a dazed smile on her face. Benjamin's head turned to his father expectantly, and Alfie froze. He had had no part in the naming of his first two children, their names chosen before he had a chance to process they were even born, it had annoyed him until this very moment.

"What about Isaac?" He offered eventualy, and mother and son shared a thoughtful look.

"No," they spoke in unison.

"Fine," Alfie sighed. "Benny? What do you want to name him?"

"Noah," Benjamin said proudly, and the husband and wife shared a look, nodding together in silent agreement.

"Benny, go to bed, now." Alfie spoke, ignoring the frown on his son's face as he clambered off the bed.

"I heard you threatened to throw my mother in the Thames," she said when the door closed behind Benjamin.

Alfie shushed her, moving to sit on the bed. "Don't talk about her, Noah's listening."

Her eyes began to droop shut and Alfie gently took the infant from her arms, holding the little thing bundled in a yellow blanket, watching as his eyes began to close too.

Alfie was the last only one who didn't sleep that night, keeping a hold of his youngest son until the sun came up.

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