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youridlisen · 5 months

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Berber Tattooing: Exploring Amazigh Tattoo Culture and Moroccan Women’s Face Tattoos (Book)

Berber tattoos, also referred to as Amazigh tattoos, serve as a vibrant reflection of the diverse cultural heritage of North Africa's indigenous Berber population. These meticulously crafted and captivating tattoos transcend mere skin-deep artistry; they function as vessels embodying the rich tapestry of heritage, social standing, and personal narratives seamlessly interwoven into the very fabric of Berber identity.

With a historical lineage stretching back millennia, the Berber people have fostered a profound connection with the natural world. Within the realm of Berber tattoos, this deep affinity manifests through a striking array of symbolic depictions, each laden with profound meanings that resonate with life, belief systems, and pivotal moments.

Nature assumes a central role in the realm of Berber tattoos, where symbols bear the imprint of animals, plants, and celestial bodies. The towering palm tree, symbolizing strength, growth, and resilience, serves as a potent representation of life and prosperity deeply ingrained in Berber culture. Likewise, the snake, embodying a guardian spirit, symbolizes wisdom and healing, acting as a protective force against malevolent influences and ushering in good fortune.

Amazon Link: a.co/d/gRSF3Jy

Drawing from ancient Egyptian iconography, the Berber people adopted the Eye of Horus, a potent symbol believed to ward off evil and usher in good luck. Equally significant is the Hand of Fatima, an open palm that serves as a protective talisman against the evil eye and negative energies.

The Amazigh Cross, often referred to as the “Agadez Cross,” serves as a compass of sorts, offering guidance and orientation during travels and life’s journeys. In the vibrant world of Berber tattoos, women play a central role, embodying themes of fertility, femininity, and the enduring legacy of the tribe.

Berber tattoos are not mere embellishments; they are markers of life’s milestones and rites of passage. For young Berber girls, their first tattoos, often received during puberty, symbolize the transition into womanhood and eligibility for marriage. These tattoos bear not only ink but the weight of cultural identity and pride.

The complexity and number of tattoos worn can also signify an individual’s standing within the community. Leaders and elders, with their wealth of wisdom and life experiences, may display more intricate and elaborate tattoos.

From “Berber Tattooing: Exploring Amazigh Tattoo Culture and Moroccan Women’s Face Tattoos”, illustrated by Mohammed Jiari

In recent times, there has been a renaissance of interest in Berber tattoos. Efforts to preserve and reinvigorate this ancient art form have borne fruit. Modern-day artists and tattoo enthusiasts explore the depths of Berber symbolism, infusing tradition with innovation to create contemporary designs that pay homage to the past.

This resurgence is not only about the art itself but also about nurturing cultural pride and identity among the Berber community. These timeless designs remain a vibrant and integral part of Berber heritage, ensuring that the symbolic meanings of Berber tattoos continue to thrive, enchanting and resonating with generations to come.

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fashionbooksmilano · 10 months

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Living with Textiles

Elaine Louie

Mitchell Beazley, London 2001, 144 pages, over 140 colour photos, 24x29cm, ISBN 9781840003871

euro 30,00

email if you want to buy [email protected]

Chinese silks, Egyptian linens, Afghan rugs: every culture recognizes the sensuality and functionality of textiles. Yet, too often their striking contribution to the modern interior is overlooked. Over 140 eye-opening color photos reveal what a wonderful difference they make, draping the walls, covering a bed, upholstering the furniture, warming the floors, softening the lines. Display a small hooked rug as a piece of art, or turn an obi (a kimono sash) into the perfect table runner--you're limited only by your imagination. Every page features a new application for textiles in the home, from hangings to room dividers, as well as information on particular fashions and period effects, including Indian, Japanese, African, French, and English Formal. It's inspiration and information for bringing unique style to your environment.

17/07/23

orders to: [email protected]

ordini a: [email protected]

twitter:@fashionbooksmi

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#Living with textiles #chinese silks #egyptian linens #textiles in the home #afghan rugs #indian textiles #japanese textiles #african textiles #french extiles #english textiles #designbooksmilano #fashionbooksmilano

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puppixel · 10 months

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Traditional Family Room - Library Family room library - mid-sized traditional enclosed light wood floor family room library idea with gray walls, a stone fireplace, a wall-mounted tv and a corner fireplace

#african celtis hardwood flooring #natural area rugs #stack stone fireplace #white painted wood

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brynhallavellan · 8 months

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New York Living Room Mid-sized elegant formal and open concept living room photo with blue walls, no fireplace and no tv

#light green velvet chair #african art #safavieh bohemian #traditional area rug #bohemian

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styckywycket · 10 months

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Dining Room in Tampa Inspiration for a large great room remodel with a medium tone wood floor, beige walls, and no fireplace

#black and white #contemporary lighting #neutral rug #floor to ceiling windows #african drum table #south tampa #condo

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scherzyhamilton · 1 year

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Orange County Eclectic Family Room Family room library - mid-sized eclectic enclosed family room library idea with brown floors and yellow walls

#green lamp #nourison rug #red leather #karastan rug #african art

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yatamisakis · 1 year

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Bedroom Master

#Large master bedroom photo in a beach style with a medium tone wood floor and a brown floor #white walls #and no fireplace wall sconces #ay illuminate woven pendants #african shield wall decor #wave art #wall mounted tv #moroccan berber rug #white marble side table

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tfmybody · 2 months

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Quick Changes

Sometimes you just need a new body for the day. But it can be so hard to pick one out. For example yesterday I woke up in the twink body I had been wearing for a couple days but I needed a change.

I thought, maybe a little bit older. Less hair on my chest, more on my face. The changes happened quickly and my new body looked back at me in the mirror.

It still didn't feel right though. What if I were a muscular Italian model? My body exploded with new muscles stretching my new skin tight.

Yeah this felt better, but still something wasn't right. Maybe another big change. What if I were an Australian football player. My new muscle definition disappeared but my muscles grew even larger still. My new face was less manicured and more rugged. New tattoos appeared on my arm.

"Nah" I said with my new accent. What if I were just Australian, no football player. My body shrank a little bit leaving me as a fit gay Aussie.

I was getting closer to what I wanted. I could feel it. One more try. What if I were South African. I felt my body shift again, my heritage switching. My muscles shrank a little again and a light dusting of hair spread across my chest.

Yeah. That's it. Much better.

But that was yesterday. And today I'm still this South African twink. But I need a quick change again.

Who do you think I should be today? What body will you give me? Maybe I'll give you one in return too.

#tfmybody #shapeshift #bodyswap

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mimi-0007 · 10 months

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African American history is American History!! You can't hide it!! Can't sweep it under the rug!!

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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The Framework is the most exciting laptop I've ever broken

From the moment I started using computers, I wanted to help other people use them. I was everyone’s tech support for years, which prepared me for the decade or so when I was a CIO-for-hire. In the early days of the internet, I spent endless hours helping my BBS friends find their way onto the net.

Helping other people use technology requires humility: you have to want to help them realize their goals, which may be totally unlike your own. You have to listen carefully and take care not to make assumptions about how they “should” use tech. You may be a tech expert, but they are experts on themselves.

This is a balancing act, because it’s possible to be too deferential to someone else’s needs. As much as other people know about how they want technology to work, if you’re their guide, you have to help them understand how technology will fail.

For example, using the same memorable, short password for all your services works well, but it fails horribly. When one of those passwords leak, identity thieves can take over all of your friend’s accounts. They may think, “Oh, no one would bother with my account, I’ve got nothing of value,” so you have to help them understand how opportunistic attacks work.

Yes, they might never be individually targeted, but they might be targeted collectively, say, to have their social media accounts hijacked to spread malware to their contacts.

Paying attention to how things work without thinking about how they fail is a recipe for disaster. It’s the reasoning that has people plow their savings into speculative assets that are going up and up, without any theory of when that bubble might pop and leave them ruined.

It’s hard to learn about failure without experiencing it, so those of us who have lived through failures have a duty to help the people we care about understand those calamities without living through them themselves.

That’s why, for two decades, I’ve always bought my hardware with an eye to how it fails every bit as much as how it works. Back when I was a Mac user — and supporting hundreds of other Mac users — I bought two Powerbooks at a time.

I knew from hard experience that Applecare service depots were completely unpredictable and that once you mailed off your computer for service, it might disappear into the organization’s bowels for weeks or even (in one memorable case), months.

I knew that I would eventually break my laptop, and so I kept a second one in sync with it through regular system-to-system transfers. When my primary system died, I’d wipe it (if I could!) and return it to Apple and switch to the backup and hope the main system came back to me before I broke the backup system.

This wasn’t just expensive — it was very technologically challenging. The proliferation of DRM and other “anti-piracy” measures on the Mac increasingly caused key processes to fail if you simply copied a dead system’s drive into a good one.

Then, in 2006, I switched operating systems to Ubuntu, a user-centric, easy-to-use flavor of GNU/Linux. Ubuntu was originally developed with the idea that its users would include Sub-Saharan African classrooms, where network access was spotty and where technical experts might be far from users.

To fulfill this design requirement, the Ubuntu team focused themselves on working well, but also failing gracefully, with the idea that users might have to troubleshoot their own technological problems.

One advantage of Ubuntu: it would run on lots of different hardware, including IBM’s Thinkpads. The Thinkpads were legendarily rugged, but even more importantly, Thinkpad owners could opt into a far more reliable service regime that Applecare.

For about $150/year, IBM offered a next-day, on-site, worldwide hardware replacement warranty. That meant that if your laptop broke, IBM would dispatch a technician with parts to wherever you were, anywhere in the world, and fix your computer, within a day or so.

This was a remnant of the IBM Global Services business, created to supply tech support to people who bought million-dollar mainframes, and laptop users could ride on its coattails. It worked beautifully — I’ll never forget the day an IBM technician showed up at my Mumbai hotel while I was there researching a novel and fixed my laptop on the hotel-room desk.

This service was made possible in part by the Thinkpad’s hardware design. Unlike the Powerbook, Thinkpads were easy to take apart. Early on in my Thinkpad years, I realized I could save a lot of money by buying my own hard-drives and RAM separately and installing them myself, which took one screwdriver and about five minutes.

The keyboards were also beautifully simple to replace, which was great because I’m a thumpy typist and I would inevitably wear out at least one keyboard. The first Thinkpad keyboard swap I did took less than a minute, and I performed it one-handed, while holding my infant daughter in my other hand, and didn’t even need to read the documentation!

But then IBM sold the business to Lenovo and it started to go downhill. Keyboard replacements got harder, the hardware itself became far less reliable, and they started to move proprietary blobs onto their motherboards that made installing Ubuntu into a major technical challenge.

Then, in 2021, I heard about a new kind of computer: the Framework, which was designed to be maintained by its users, even if they weren’t very technical.

https://frame.work/

The Framework was small and light — about the same size as a Macbook — and very powerful, but you could field-strip it in 15 minutes with a single screwdriver, which shipped with the laptop.

I pre-ordered a Framework as soon as I heard about it, and got mine as part of the first batch of systems. I ordered mine as a kit — disassembled, requiring that I install the drive, RAM and wifi card, as well as the amazing, snap-fit modular expansion ports. It was a breeze to set up, even if I did struggle a little with the wifi card antenna connectors (they subsequently posted a video that made this step a lot easier):

https://twitter.com/frameworkputer/status/1433320060429373440

The Framework works beautifully, but it fails even better. Not long after I got my Framework, I had a hip replacement; as if in sympathy, my Framework’s hinges also needed replacing (a hazard of buying the first batch of a new system is that you get to help the manufacturer spot problems in their parts).

My Framework “failed” — it needed a new hinge — but it failed so well. Framework shipped me a new part, and I swapped my computer’s hinges, one day after my hip replacement. I couldn’t sit up more than 40 degrees, I was high af on painkillers, and I managed the swap in under 15 minutes. That’s graceful failure.

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Hinge+Replacement+Guide/104

After a few weeks’ use, I was convinced. I published my review, calling the Framework “the most exciting laptop I’ve ever used.”

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/21/monica-byrne/#think-different

That was more than a year ago. In the intervening time, I’ve got to discover just how much punishment my Framework can take (I’ve been back out on the road with various book publicity events and speaking engagements) and also where its limits are. I’ve replaced the screen and the keyboard, and I’ve even upgraded the processor:

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Mainboard+Replacement+Guide/79

I’m loving this computer so. damn. much. But as of this morning, I love it even more. On Thursday, I was in Edinburgh for the UK launch of “Chokepoint Capitalism,” my latest book, which I co-authored with Rebecca Giblin.

As I was getting out of a cab for a launch-day podcast appearance, I dropped my Framework from a height of five feet, right onto the pavement. I had been working on the laptop right until the moment the cab arrived because touring is nuts. I’ve got about 150% more commitments than I normally do, and I basically start working every day at 5AM and keep going until I drop at midnight, every single day.

As rugged as my Framework is, that drop did for it. It got an ugly dent in the input cover assembly and — far, far worse — I cracked my screen. The whole left third of my screen was black, and the rest of it was crazed with artefacts and lines.

This is a catastrophe. I don’t have any time for downtime. Just today, I’ve got two columns due, a conference appearance and a radio interview, which all require my laptop. I got in touch with Framework and explained my dire straits and they helpfully expedited shipping of a new $179 screen.

Yesterday, my laptop screen stopped working altogether. I was in Oxford all day, and finished my last book event at about 9PM. I got back to my hotel in London at 11:30, and my display was waiting for me at the front desk. I staggered bleary-eyed to my room, sat down at the desk, and, in about fifteen minutes flat, I swapped out the old screen and put in the new one.

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Display+Replacement+Guide/86

That is a fucking astoundingly graceful failure mode.

Entropy is an unavoidable fact of life. “Just don’t drop your laptop” is great advice, but it’s easier said than done, especially when you’re racing from one commitment to the next without a spare moment in between.

Framework has designed a small, powerful, lightweight machine — it works well. But they’ve also designs a computer that, when you drop it, you can fix yourself. That attention to graceful failure saved my ass.

If you hear me today on CBC Sunday Magazine, or tune into my Aaron Swartz Day talk, or read my columns at Medium and Locus, that’s all down to this graceful failure mode. Framework’s computers aren’t just the most exciting laptops I’ve ever used — they’re the most exciting laptops I’ve ever broken.

[Image ID: A disassembled Framework laptop; a man's hand reaches into the shot with a replacement screen.]

#pluralistic

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bejeweledblondie · 7 months

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Nightingale

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Summary: Y/N is a aid worker with UNICEF, while helping treat innocent children from preventable viruses the encampment is taken over by terrorists, the video of her an American being held hostage goes viral & it’s up to Task Force 141 to rescue her & the others

Warnings: mentions of beatings, death, war crimes, murder, it’s kinda heavy

Ever since you saw Audrey Hepburn walking with the sick, & hungry children with UNICEF you knew exactly that’s what you wanted to do. Help the most innocent & vulnerable children on the planet. You had gone to nursing school already & graduated. Once you graduated you immediately had made it imperative to volunteer your skills to help UNICEF. So now here you sat in the hot African heat & sun. It was absolutely sweltering, but the line of mother’s seeking out proper care for the babies, was extremely long. Your colleagues were offering them water, food rations, anything they needed while you helped administer vaccines. There had been a huge polio outbreak in the region due to contaminated water, & your team decided to administer that vaccine first.

A small frail toddler sat on her mother’s lap while you prepared the vaccine. Her wide eyes looked around the blue tent that was overhead. She looked malnourished, & was clinging to her mother. You had been administering her vaccines for the past couple of weeks now, & started to create a friendship with her mother. It was incredibly important to you to build trust with the little ones mothers, & you wanted them to know how much you genuinely cared for them.

Once the vaccines were ready you went to go & administer the first vaccine into the young child’s thigh when screaming was heard in the distance. The deafening sound of machine gun fire was heard in the distance. The woman in front you immediately picked up her child & ran in the opposite direction. A colleague of yours sprinted in your direction alerting you that one of the terrorist groups in the country had captured the nearby city, & were now taking over the camp. You immediately dropped the syringe in your hand & started to sprint.

Two pick up trucks pulled in front of her. Machine guns were bolted down into the their beds & multiple heavily armed terrorists occupied them. They jumped out, shouting in a language you didn’t fill understand. Shaking now in fear you threw your hands up surrendering yourself. Immediately their hands where on your shoulders dragging you to the truck. They zipped tied your hands behind your back & threw you in the back of one.

“Please you don’t understand I’m not a soldier!” You sobbed out. “I’m a aid worker.” Over the past few hours that felt like an eternity they grabbed civilians, & colleagues of yours. Soon the trucks were driving into the nearby city, cheers & gun fire rang out into the air in celebration. The trucks came to a halt & you along with the other hostages were dragged into one of the many buildings in the city. You could see people holding camera phones trying to get into your face, documenting the kidnapping of western aid workers.

The inside of the building was fairly clean, but lacking in any furniture. All that lay there was a area rug & some cushions. They plopped each one of you on the rug. A man who was somewhat well dressed walked in, a rifle was slung across his chest.

“Which one of you is American?” He asked. Everyone says silent then he loaded a bullet into the chamber of his rifle.

“M-me.” You squeaked out not looking up. He chucked to himself & two of the guards immediately brought you to your feet.

“Don’t worry we won’t kill you.” The man said. “Yet.” He chucked. “Americans, especially American women go for a pretty penny on the black market but I think you’d be best suited for ransom.” He explained. The guards dragged you into a room off of to the side & there sat a chair with a video camera facing it. They forced you to sit down & tied you to the chair. A table was to your left, all laid out were different knives, hardware tools, & other tools that could be used to torture a human being. Then it all hit you, you were going to be tortured on camera. The video would probably broadcasted across every major news network, for all to see. The idea of your family & friends having to bear witness to your bloodshed on television started to cause you to wonder if death was a better fate.

A taller man came up to you & bent down to look at your face. His grimy hands pulled your hair back punched you square in the face. A blood curdling scream escaped your lips as you heard the crack of your nose. The metallic smell of blood filled the air.

“Shut up!” One of them yelled. Your head hung weakly in defeat & pain. One of the men started the camera, & the other stood next to you with a large machete in his hand.

“To the people of the west, we declare war on you. The bloodshed that had spilled on our soil will continue, & it’s time for us to take revenge.” He said in near perfect English. The bastard had a damn American accent. “We have captured one of your own, & it is up to you to make sure she stays alive.” You lifted your head & looked into the camera intently. You reminded yourself of the importance to make sure you could be identified for rescuing. “You have 72 hours to respond.” The man said menacingly as he put the machete close to your neck. Your breathing increased by the presence of the large blade. The camera was then stopped & he removed the machete from your neck. You were soon untied & brought back into the room where the other hostages are. A colleague of yours gasped at the sight of your blooded & bruised face. They threw you to the ground, & you started to sob even more. Your vision kept going in & out from the pain.

“All I wanted to do was help people.” You whispered as you gave into the darkness.

Simon along with the rest of Task Force 141 sat in a briefing room awaiting what their next mission was to be. Price had a bit of a hunch as his wife texted him a news article mentioning the aid workers taken hostage. Laswell came in looking absolutely stressed.

“Afternoon.” She mumbled & put her laptop down on the table. The air suddenly felt incredibly tense by her presence which wasn’t abnormal but something felt off. She flipped open her laptop & started to brief them. “As some of you may know a group of terrorists invaded a city that was once held by rebel fighters. A UNICEF camp was based on the outskirts, a bunch of foreign nationals were there administering medicine to the locals. They attacked, & took an American aid worker hostage along with nationals from other countries.” Kate sighed. “There’s a video they released.”

Everyone looked around the room at each other. “It’s dark.” She simply stated. “This poor woman.” She hit play & the video started. As soon as they all saw the young woman blooded with her head down they sat up. The more the video played Simon grew more angry. Then once the terrorist had pulled her head up Kate looked down. Her eyes where blood shot, nose was already broken, & her whole face was covered in blood. The man held a machete to her neck & they all watched her body tense up.

Simon was pumped full of adrenaline & wanted to snap the neck of the man who held the machete. He was furious.

“Holy Fuck.” Gaz said & shook his head.

“Yeah I know.” Kate said. “The United States has reached out to us, they want us to rescue her. Their Special Forces are conducting other operations. The woman in the video her name is Y/N L/N, & it’s believed her colleague Paul Kessler is also in the compound. Their lives are at extreme risk & we need to extract them immediately. So hop to it.”

They went over the rescue plan, & walked out to the airstrip where a C-130 aircraft awaited them. Their gear was put on board by the crew & they boarded the plane. Simon couldn’t help but wonder about the young woman in the video. She looked so defeated & was on deaths doorstep. It angered him. These were his least favorite type of missions, he hated the idea of innocent people who just wanted to help others be subjected to the worst kind of violence. He had seen so many innocent people throughout his childhood, & adulthood fall victim that he was fueled with anger for this mission.

The plane landed safely at a airbase in one of the neighboring countries. They got off & did a full gear lay out to assure everyone had the correct equipment. Simon took apart his rifle & cleaned it a few times before putting it back together. Everyone could tell from his demeanor that he was going to be ruthless. Both Soap & Price exchanged a glance of worry before looking at Simon again. When they knew he was doing a deep clean of his rifle he wasn’t going to hold back once they landed. Two Blackhawk Helicopters landed on the Tarmac at 02000 (8pm) ready for the Task Force to board.

Simon pulled his iconic skull faced mask over his head, transforming from a man into a force to be reckoned with. Ghost had now taken over, & it was time for him to board the helicopter. Ghost & Soap took one helicopter while Price & Gaz went to the other. Night had fallen & it was perfect for them to be stealthy enough to fly under enemy radar. They lifted off of the ground & headed off to their target.

“Gentlemen, we are now over the border.” One of the pilots said over the radio. “Wheels down in ten.” They were flying so incredibly low that they just barley touched the tips of the trees they flew over. Soon they had reach a now pitch black city & the helicopters started to approach the house were their target was.

“Eyes on target.” Price said into his radio, alerting the task force. A fighter on of the roofs started to fire as the approaching helicopters & was quickly taken out by Price. Soon they were hovering over the roof of the building & repelling down. Once his boots hit the roof of the building his combat mode was switched on. Looking through his night vision goggles he was able to eliminate all of the hostiles on the surrounding roofs. Soap located the door that lead down the stairs & immediately kicked it open. He eliminated one of the terrorists behind the doorway & motioned for them to follow him.

With ease they cleared the stairway & upper floor of the house. It certainly helped that the terrorists were completely unorganized & didn’t know how to properly fight. Soap grabbed one of them & dragged him to where they were holding the hostages.

You kept going in & out of consciousness due to the pain. Your captors had beaten you with every possible way they could. It was a direct attempt to break your spirits & make you ultimately give up hope for a rescue. Your eyes were so bloodshot & after a blow of a rifle butt to the head you couldn’t even fully see anymore. One of your colleagues had to explain what was happening around you. After you slipped out of consciousness again you felt someone’s knee trying to awake you. A overwhelming feeling of dread filled your body thinking it was one of your captors.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The voice screamed, it was one your colleagues Paul. “Wake up they’re here to rescue us.” He said attempting to wake you up. You opened your eyes only to see blurred figures. Hearing gun fire up the stairs you tried to sit up more. Stomping came down the stairs & more shots rang out. You felt a bright light shining on your face & then hands on you. Your bound hands were cut free & your body was lifted from the ground into a fireman’s carry.

“Captain I’ve acquired the target,” A deep British accent said. “Ready for extraction.”

“Affirmative.” A muffle voice said over the radio. Mentally you were thanking whatever higher power that sent them here to rescue you. You let our little squeaks & moans of pain as the two of you made it up the stairs. Your head was beyond pounding now.

“I know love, but I promise we’ll get you treatment as soon as possible.” The voice replied to your small noises. The two of you made it to the roof & the helicopter that was hovering turned around to extract the whole Task Force. You could hear Paul thanking whoever he was in front of at the moment for rescuing him.

“How’s she doing? A voice yelled over the sound of the helicopter approaching. “Okay, not great but we gotta get her immediate care.” The wind of the helicopter blades indicated that it was right above. You felt yourself being strapped to a gurney & lifted into the air. Once in the helicopter & moving you could feel them stabilize your head. A IV was started to replenish your body of it’s fluids. One of the men aboard with a thick Scottish accent kept asking you a series of different questions. You could only respond with hand signals. A bulky piece of fabric was placed in your arms. Your hands felt around the folded fabric only to realize it was an American flag. Small sob escaped your lips as you clutched onto the fabric tighter.

Ghost looked down at the poor woman who was strapped to the gurney. Soap had taken an American flag that was aboard the helicopter & placed it in her arms. They both watched as she sobbed clutching the fabric at the realization that she was actually safe.

“You’re safe love,” Soap assured her. Once they had landed back at the airbase the young woman was handed off to the team of advanced medics on the airbase to be stabilized for transport. Ghost watched from a distance as she was being boarded onto a airplane to be sent to Germany for proper care. He removed his mask revealing Simon. Price walked up to him & clapped him on the back.

“Job well done son,” Price said. “Cmon let’s get some sleep & then we’ll be headed back.”

A few weeks later you were somewhat healed. The doctors were able to place your nose back together properly & you regained your eyesight somewhat. The most difficult part was hearing your speech might be slurred due to the blow you took to your head. You were also told you’d have to relearn to write again. During your entire treatment you refused to let go of the American flag one of the rescuers put in your arms. The doctors had to pry your arms open to gain access to your abdomen.

It sat on the bed side table of your hospital room. You were sat up in bed holding a pencil tracing letters. Your doctor recommended you do so in order to regain the ability you once had. It hadn’t been this difficult since kindergarten. You were so focused on your writing that you hadn’t even noticed the handsome soldier at your door. A soft knock on the side of the door frame alerted you of his presence. You looked up, somewhat embarrassed at your appearance in front of the handsome stranger. The bruising under your eyes was yellowing now from the rhinoplasty.

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He said, & your mind immediately flashed back to that night. That voice. “You may not remember me but-“

“N-no I d-do.” You replied through slurred words. He gave you a soft smiled & walked into the room.

“May I sit?” He asked & you nodded. He pulled up a chair & sat down next to your bed. “I’m Simon.” He introduced himself.

“Y/N.” You managed to get out. He looked down at what you were doing. Embarrassed you tried to flip the paper over but he stopped you.

“What are you doing?” He asked & flipped the paper. “Ah I see. Let me help.” He said. His large hand eclipsed yours as he helped you hold the pencil correctly. He helped you trace one of the lowercase letters properly by guiding your hand.

“T-thank you.” You said & looked at him. He brushed your hair out of your face & then looked at the American flag on your bed side table. One of his large hands ran over it & then placed it in your lap. You reached out for his hand & give it a squeeze. His flesh was calloused but made you feel warm & safe. Those same hands that rescued you would be the ones to have & to hold you for your entire life.

#call of duty #cod imagines #ghost call of duty #cod masterlist #ghost x y/n #cod modern warfare #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost imagines #ghost x female reader #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x female reader

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