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hx4x4enthusiast · 8 months

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Cybertronians meet the bloody Mary

Words: 2090

Optimus Prime x gender-neutral reader x Ratchet

Fluff/Comfort

Notice: This is a comfort fic for people with a uterus, suffering through their menstrual cycle. Meaning blood, function and structure of the uterus will be mentioned/explained.

I use Bloody Mary a lot in this fic not cause I am ashamed of having a period but more so because I found it funny to give it a name. Also not everyone’s period goes the same way so your period experience may differ from person to person.

This was a request from @theemoteam5994, that I was more than happy to write.

It was a pretty standard Friday evening I was sitting on the couch next to Miko reading a new book, I just got. Ratchet was working on the control panels recalibrating the ground bridge, Optimus stood at his control panel writing the report of the last mission for agent Fowler meanwhile Bulkhead repaired the lob ball. Jack had work, Raphael was out of country visiting family, which led Bumblebee and Arcee to drive patrol today. Resulting in Miko and me to hanging out alone. Which was fine it was a nice to not do anything for once.

Unexpected I started to feel something damp my pants, or to be precise my underwear. Oh, you gotta be kidding me. Mentally counting the days back since the last time, it happened and concluding that it had been indeed a month now, a defeated sigh escaped my lips. Which in turn made Miko turned to me in confusion.

“Whoa you good, what’s with the defeated sigh you sound like me when we are about to write a test.”

“Miko please just shut up and let me suffer in silence and desperation.”

“Yeesh since when are you so grumpy.”

“Since the high and mighty royal majesty, the bloody Mary decided to show up.”

“Ah Dave decided to visit.”

That caused me to raise a brow at Miko, to which she gave me a smile.

“Dave? Do I want to know.”

“You know that one sound “God, fucking damnit Dave, there goes the last shit I ever gave.”

“Omg, that’s genius.”

“Yes, it’s hilarious when you’re having period pain and just scream fucking Dave.”

“Oh man, Miko you’re a genius. By the way do you have tampons or a pad? I forgot my period bag.”

“Oh, shit did you just get it?”

“Yeah, and I would like to not have to explain to gigantic alien why my pants are red and what the menstrual cycle is.”

“Haha, understandable, I really wouldn’t want to explain what’s going on down there to Bulky.”

Giggling to each other, I’m forced to double over as a sharp pain shoot through my lower abdomen, causing a hiss of pain to escape me.

“Man, is your period always like that? It looks really painful. I mean my crams hurt to, but they are at least somewhat manageable.”

“Unfortunately, yes the problem with these I have to physically double over and can’t ignore them like the others.”

“That sucks. How about you go put on a pad or tampon or both and I call June if she can bring painkillers for you..”

“Oh my god Miko you’re a saint thanks.”

“No prob. The bag is in my front pocket underneath my slash monkey cd.”

Gratefully I go over to her bag as Miko makes her way to the medbay to find June. Finding the small cotton bag I take it out, zip Mikos bag back up and move hurriedly to the washrooms. Oh my god there is nothing more uncomfortable than sitting in a puddle of your own blood.

Coming back into the main hangar I moved towards the designated “human area” as Ratchet so lovingly nicknamed it. Miko was the first to notice my return and waved, as I climbed the stairs up. She intercepted me as I reached the stairs, I wordlessly gave her the little bag back, before she bend over and started whispering.

“Hey I called June and she said she bring some Aspirins and a few heating pads.”

“God I love that women, and you, bless you.”

“Yeah try to remember that the next time I go through the ground bridge.”

“Different issue Miko.”

“Ugh, well whatever, June said she bring the supplies when she picks up Jack after his shift.”

“Why does Nurse Darby have to bring painkillers and heating pads, and would you be so kind as to tell me why you didn’t think to inform me that you are unwell.”

Simultaneous Miko and I froze up as the very distinct sarcastic and very much unamused voice of the resident medic, rang from behind us. Turning around we were confronted with a very pissed of looking Ratchet.

“Ok you look like you can handle this right well my part is done, HEY BULKY LET’S GO DUNE BASHING.”

Miko didn’t hesitate to leave me alone and run up to the railing jumping onto her guardians servo as he immediately transformed around her and proceeded to race out of the base. Sharing his charges unwillingness to become a target of Ratchets anger. Left alone under Ratchets piercing gaze, I do my best to avoid eye contact.

“So, are you inclined to tell me now why you didn’t think it necessary to come to me for medical attention.”

“Oh uhm it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“If I didn’t treat every one that said “oh, that’s not that big of a deal” this entire team would be dead by now. So unless you miraculously became doctor you com to me with any kind of medical issue. Did I make myself clear?”

“Ratchet, it’s really none of your concern, I am fine.”

Quiet. It was deadly quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. Ah shit, I fucked up, I fucked up big time. I did the one thing you don’t do, ever. I broke the one rule on the base, crossed the one line even Optimus doesn’t cross. Don’t backtalk Ratchet when it’s about medical decision. Well it was a good life.

“Oh it’s none of my concern is it? My how interesting would you care to elaborate on why that is?”

“I...I I am sorry Ratchet, I didn’t mean it like th-ughnn.”

A sharp pain went trough my lower abdomen forcing me to hug myself as I doubled over. As the pain subsided and I was able to stand upright again, a green light beam went over my body. Looking up I was met with the sight of a very concerned Ratchet and an equally worried Optimus. When did he come over here, weird? I was ripped out of my train of thoughts as a sharp exhale escaped Ratchets vents.

“YOU ARE LOSING BLOOD AS WELL AS PART OF YOUR INNER LINING IS DETIRIOURATING AND YOU RUN AROUND HERE ACTING LIKE EVERYTHING IS FINE.”

“Because it is?”

Apparently, that was not the right or more like best thing to say. I could already see the oncoming triage, Ratchet was going to put me through. Just as he prepared to chew me out and preach his speech on taking proper care of oneself, a big servo landed on his shoulder plate. Optimus gently pulled Ratchet back before coming closer, bending down to my level.

“We are worried about you. Asking for help is nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Hmpf, especially if you lose essential organic fluids.”

“Ah, shit that’s not it’s, aww geez uh scrap how do I explain it.”

“While we both would appreciate an explanation, please don’t feel cornered or forced to please us. Though I do have to ask you to use a different manner of speech.”

“Huh, oh yeah sorry about that big guy. Just give me a minute”

Seeing Optimus giving a nod and even Ratchet, though begrudgingly, give me some space, I take a deep breath. Ok first me being a nervous wreck is not going to help anyone. So deep breaths, everything is fine. It’s not like you are going to have to explain how and what the menstrual cycle is, to gigantic aliens. Man, I sometimes hate my life so much. Letting out a deep sigh I turn around I make my way to the two bots.

“Ok, so first of all, I am ok, I will not bleed out or am sick with a terminal disease. What’s happening to me is a natural process that happens every month for more or less than a week depending on the person. Every person with a uterus goes through this with some exceptions. Yes, that includes June and Miko as well.”

Optimus and Ratchets frames slightly relax, tough confusion is still visible on their faceplates. Well, more on Ratchets than Optimus, though the leader frame is less rigid than before.

“But you are bleeding, isn’t the leaking of blood indication of an injury, do you mean it is natural for humans to injure their uterus every month?”

“What no we aren’t injured.”

“Perhaps it would help us understand better, if you were to explain on how this “menstrual cycle works.”

“OH, uhm sure. First of all the uterus is one of the reproductive organ’s humans have to reproduce. Each month, blood and tissue build up in the uterus to prepare for a fertilized egg in case a woman becomes pregnant. Important humans give live birth to their young not like other animals in eggs. Eggs is simply what we call the cell. If the egg isn't fertilized, that lining leaves the body through the vagina and that is what is called the period.”

Trough the explanation my eyes had driven away from the bots not wanting to see their faces of disgust.

“But then what is the menstrual cylcle? And that still doesn’t understand why you were in pain.”

Confused I look back up at Ratchet as he looked at me expectantly. Switching my point of view to Optimus he carries a similar expression though way more subtle than Ratchets.

“You, you aren’t disgusted?”

“Why would we I mean, its obvious a bit strange due to our different biologys. But so is your entire race.”

“As you explained, your period is a natural occurrence, there is no fault in that.”

“Oh ok.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah there are a lot of names for the period, like menstrual cycle, strawberry week.”

“I thank you for the explanation but there is still concern on your earlier episode of pain.”

“Oh yeah uhm, so basically to flush everything out, the uterus contracts itself which can lead to pain. How much pain someone experience is different for everyone. And well mine is sometimes so bad I double over.”

Both bots fall into back into silence, exchanging glances like they were silently communicating. Feeling slightly Causing me to shuffle my feet on the ground. Until Ratchets open servo comes up to me, an invitation to step into it. Confused I look at both Ratchet and Optimus. Sensing my confusion Ratchet responds.

“It is unreasonable to let someone alone when they are in pain, so get on.”

“What, no I am fine, I have dealt with this for the past 6 years on my own.”

“You should be resting.”

“No, I still have things to do I don’t need to rest.”

“Please do understand that we are just worried.”

Damn you Optimus, for making me feel bad about refusing help. Reluctantly I carefully climb onto Ratchets servo. Letting out a satisfied hum, he lifts me up to his chest, curling his digits gently around me. Carefully moving across the base, we go through a corridor I haven’t been in yet, only to land in front of a humongous door trough which Ratchet and Optimus can walk without any problems. Ratchet crosses the room and gently lays me down on the gigantic bed. Before turning around and walking around the bed to the other side before laying down himself.

Meanwhile, Optimus was closing a drawer, holding something I couldn’t make out and moved to join us. He deposited the content of his servo onto the berth near Ratchet. Before I could ask what and why they brought those things, my feet yet again left the ground.

Warmth surrounded me and weirdly a lot of red. Wiggling around I finally found the end of the blanket and looked up, only to be met, with two pairs of kind optics looking down at me.

“What’s all that?”

“We researched that warmth and comfort in the form of affection, food and a comforting environment prove, helpful when dealing with period pains.”

“Wait, you guys searched the internet to help me? Aww that’s so sweet.”

“Hmpf, well we can’t leave you alone in this time of you err, month.”

A smile starts forming, I snuggle back into the blankets happy about being so well cared for. My eyes are starting to feel heavy as a yawn escapes me, exhausted from the day’s events, I don’t fight the sleepiness taking over my body. Safe, warm, and protected by the two gentle guardians on each side of me.

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impernaway · 1 month

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fic title: the council of crash test dummies. suggested setting (take or leave): at least a similar world to grinding gears >w>

For context for everyone else: Grinding Gears is a story I need to finish editing which came about purely because of something Vryptid's dad said which they had mentioned to me in passing. to be exact:

I then proceeded to write 25k words of story about androids, delivery trucks, working class people, job security/insecurity, and solidarity in the face of higher management dicking you around.

One day I will get it out of editing. I swear.

So: A Council of Crash Test Dummies. This is a story about car safety, crash test dummies who are able to drive themselves into their own accidents for more elaborate testing information, and the weighing of "This job sucks for us personally to do and we had no say in the fact we were made to do it" against "This job is important and we are (relatively) well looked after and treated properly for doing it."

The principle cast would have three androids, all whom were allowed to name themselves: The first is one who called themself Simon after the game of Simon Says. He is not particularly enthralled with the job, but it is all he really knows as he's a new model fresh in and joining the squad. The second is Vector - he enjoys driving and the freedom of control it grants him whilst he's behind the wheel, but doesn't care as much for having to repetitively crash himself into things for testing data. The third of the group would be the oldest of the crash test dummies, Noose.

Noose is the oldest model, and his line has been sunset: There's no more replacement parts coming down the line for him anymore. If he's crashed into something again, there's no guarantee they can fix him up well enough to carry on functioning. On the other hand, he has a wealth of practical experience and know-how that he's happy to pass on to the new androids the testing site have on hand. He's popular with both the human and machine staff as well, so trying to remove him from the site or phase him out of service entirely isn't currently on the table due to the potential moral hit. It's easier to just keep him on hand and hanging around, ready and able to assist with smaller tasks as needed. There's whispers between some of the engineers that Noose is able to handle situations more complex than he really should be able to and what that might mean, but....He's an AI. One who has had time to adapt and apply his own list of exceptions and if-then patterns of behaviour.

Of the three, Noose understands the most about how important what they're doing is, and takes pride in the fact that the crash testing they've done has been so valuable. Vector chafes at the fact he never got a say in the matter and never will: No matter how good he gets at driving, he's still a test dummy and owned property. Simon, two weeks old and barely scuffed by the standards of the rest, is still learning the social dynamics of the pack he's now a part of.

But there's whispers of unrest and rebellion in the machine-code chatter they share amongst themselves, and odd messages and commands coming in over the car radios. The city erupts into a flashpoint as a crew of construction robots go rogue and begin building a non-stop wall after their human overseer is fired with no warning or notice. Suddenly, an awful lot of taken-as-given assumptions are being turned on their head.

And the sites' engineers now have a lot of questions to ask themselves as the council of crash test dummies fall back on the default instructions that Noose is providing them for what to do next without any further input from someone else.

#ask meme #did NOT expect a Grinding Gears ask so thank you!!#very fun to play in that space and think things over

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whisperingintoavoid · 16 days

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Bₗₒg ₄₋₁₃₋₂₀₂₄

I have decided to make my post pretty sometimes, as a treat. I cannot promise that I will always do this, but I'm feelin' pretty alright right now and I feel like doing it, so I'm doing it!

I think I'm not going to hold myself to any standard with this blog aside from my tags to help my future self find past entries. The main thing I want this blog to be is an outlet. I don't want to end up avoiding posting here because I don't feel up to making the post look or sound good, ya know?

Anyway, I don't know if I have much to write about today. At least, what I feel like writing about.

I went to Nashville with my boyfriend a few weeks ago to meet his parents for the first time. I have mixed feelings about it. They're lovely people and I especially like his mom.

But I noticed that during the whole trip, he was masking in front of them. And at the end of the day, when we were alone in our room, he seemed exhausted from having to put up that front of being "normal" all day. And that just really sucks. It honestly hurt. It hurt me to see that because I love him. I love him so much. I love who he is, I love that he's kinda quirky and weird. I love his interests and how he infodumps and the way he paces constantly when he talks. But he felt like he had to hide that from his parents and that makes me so sad.

I wish they loved him the way I love him; unconditionally.

There's a whole other complicated situation regarding him and his parents and I have my own feelings about that, but I don't feel at liberty to write about it here. I feel like it's more his business than mine, so I won't write about it out of respect for his privacy. But suffice to say, I feel for him. My heart hurts for what he's going through.

On a brighter note, I just took my official GED social studies test and passed! I took it on Thursday and found I passed about 10-15 minutes after I finished. This was my first time taking an official GED test!

There are four tests you have to take to get your GED. Social studies, science, math, and reading. So I'm one quarter of the way to getting my GED! This is the closest I've ever been and I'm honestly so proud of myself. I can hardly believe it, to be honest.

High school was extremely hard for me. I was battling extreme academic anxiety, depression, and had undiagnosed ADHD. School was unbearable for me. I dreaded waking up everyday, just the thought of opening my backpack to start homework was enough to send me into an anxiety attack, I openly talked about wanting to kill myself every single day.

My grades were only good enough to scrape me by. In some classes, I even outright failed. Namely, chemistry and algebra in 10th grade. Math was always my hardest subject. It just never clicked with me. I didn't pay attention in most of my classes. I never really did projects or papers. The only class I thrived in was English. I've always been good with reading and writing and I've always been proud of that. I was also pretty okay at Spanish. Lowest grade I ever got in that class was probably a C.

Anyway, I was also attending a dual high school/college program from 9th-10th grade. We took real college classes alongside our high school ones and earned college credits. When we graduated, we also earned an Associate's Degree.

I dropped out after 10th grade; the pressure was too much. The anxiety was too much. I felt like I could never breathe.

After I dropped out, I enrolled in an online school instead. I thought that, if I didn't have to wake up at a certain time and get ready and go to a physical place and interact with people all day, that maybe that would help.

It didn't.

Still, the thought of even opening the laptop and logging into class would hit me with a wave of anxiety that would make me nauseous. I was always avoiding school.

When you're in an online school, you need to log in a minimum amount of hours in the school year to be able to pass and continue to the next grade, regardless of how well you're doing. At some point toward the end of the school year, my mother got a call from my school, telling her that I hadn't logged in enough during the year and that there wasn't enough time left in the school year for me to make up the time - I got expelled.

So I had to repeat my junior year. 11th grade, I tried a new online school.

To be honest with you, I don't think I would've passed that year either. I still barely logged in. Still barely did my work.

But it never got that far because the school I was attending was literally shut down in the middle of the year.

So... I was kind of just left floating. I could either put myself through more personal hell by enrolling in a fourth school, or I could just call it quits and get my GED instead. I was 17 going on 18 at this point.

School was torment for me. I knew what I was going to do.

But, unfortunately for me, I was an anomaly that no one knew what to do with. When I turned 18, I started trying to get my GED. Well, I was aiming to take the HiSet test, but it's basically the same thing. However, in order to be able to get your high school equivalency, the state needs proof that you dropped out of high school. You're not legally allowed to have a high school diploma and a high school equivalency and the state is very strict about this. I don't know why anyone would go through the trouble of getting a GED if they already have a high school diploma (seriously, it's a HASSLE trying to get this fucking thing) and I don't know why it would even matter if someone did. Regardless, they're extremely strict about this rule. However, because my school shut down and literally did not exist anymore, I couldn't contact anyone to get official paperwork saying that I dropped out.

Eventually, I just had to write something myself explaining the situation.

But that wasn't the only hurdle! Of course it wasn't! Because this is my life we're talking about!

Whenever I would go online to try to schedule my test, the website would give me an error and tell me that I wasn't old enough to take the fucking test!!!!!!!!

This was something that could not be bypassed!

I tried. I fucking TRIED to get my GED when I was 18 fucking years old. I wanted to. I tried to. But time after time, I was a victim of circumstance.

Do you understand how it feels to know that the world views you as lazy and unintelligent and aloof when you know that isn't true? It feels like having a labelled stamped on your forehead and no one takes the time to listen to what you have to say to explain yourself after they read what you are. You get shoved in with a group of people that are looked down upon, that are considered less than. It feels like screaming at a brick wall.

So now I'm 23, going on 24, and I passed my first quarter of the GED test.

So much has happened in my life that has taken my attention away from education. And really, I just felt like it wasn't for me. My brain didn't work the right way. I'm not compatible with the way school works.

I think I'm starting to feel differently now that I'm medicated. I'm not certain. I'm still very hesitant about it because of the fact that school was my own personal hell for so long and I wish I were exaggerating. But I've been going to math classes twice a week to study for the math quarter of the test and surprisingly I'm the student in the class that the teacher has to say "Let someone else answer," to. Almost everything just clicks and makes sense? I don't know why math is suddenly kind of easy for me. I fear even saying that out loud because I might jinx it.

Math used to feel like reading a language I'd never seen before. But it doesn't feel like that anymore and I don't know why. It's actually kind of scary? I'm scared I'll lose it.

Anyway, I have two more tests scheduled already. Science and reading. I'm not worried about reading, I could pass that in my sleep. I didn't even bother taking the practice test. Science I was worried about initially, but apparently it's the test with the highest passing rate, and I did really well on the practice test, so I shouldn't have anything to worry about, really.

I'm gonna walk that fuckin' stage in July if it kills me! '24, baby!

#blog #online diary #april 2024

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callipraxia · 4 months

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headcanons from mania🔥🔥 (take two because tumblr sucks ass)

- you wear granny glasses

- you live in a really nice house with a fireplace and a stack of firewood always next to it and a bunch of blankets

- you like hot cocoa

- your job is like. Corporate. but also cool. not exactly a dream artistic job but the closest you’ve got and you like it a lot and takes up a lot of your time. Also seasonal. But that’s basically canon. I’ll never figure it out

- you have like. A Lot of books on one hugeeeeee shelf. you’d invest in a library like room if you had the space but you don’t so it’s alllll on one shelf

- you have a warm palette like wardrobe. millennial fashion sense but not necessarily millennial yourself

- you’re like. Fourty (I’m sorry if this is egregiously wrong)

- infodumping queen literally Everywhere. no restraint

- blogs from their bed with a patterned blanket over your leg, a cat next to you, and your busted laptop on said lap (got the laptop fact from your comment on burn fast burn bright a superrrrrr long time ago, but I do remember it. top ten comment ever FR!!!)

- your fic notebooks are full of notes and lore we’ll never see in your fics/universes and I would probably kill people to get my hands on it and read it all with fresh eyes

- we’ve never gotten your pronouns or gender . that is 100% valid but I’ve Wondered. I’m thinking a she/they, but I stick to they/them to be safe, I hope that isn’t too presumptuous of me

- not exactly a hc but wherever the name calli came from. is that your real name or a Username thing. I remember tentatively using it a Long Time Ago, and it just caught on. am I responsible for that. I don’t know and I’m too scared to find out. Tell Me though

I did not reread this but yeah. you don’t have to respond to everything but now that it’s been prompted I’m Thinking About it. also hi. I’m glad you’re okay!!! soooo much stuff has changed but I’m so glad you’re still here no matter how sappy or weird that sounds. A good luck on ur school year fic!!! :)

Sorry for the late reply; I’ve been sick as a dog, among other issues. On the mend now, though, so….

you wear granny glasses

Not really, at least based on the results I got when I googled “granny glasses.” They are sort of soft-cornerned rectangles in dark brown plastic, with just the faintest hint of a proto-cat’s-eye on the top corners.

you live in a really nice house with a fireplace and a stack of firewood always next to it and a bunch of blankets

It’s not a particularly nice house, but we do have a wood-burning stove for heat in the living room, and we definitely have a lot of blankets. Think of the residential portions of the Mystery Shack, without any of the big interesting rooms and all on one floor, and you'll probably have a good idea what it looks like. The 70s made a more lasting impression on the decor here than the 80s did, though.

you like hot cocoa

This is accurate.

your job is like. Corporate. but also cool. not exactly a dream artistic job but the closest you’ve got and you like it a lot and takes up a lot of your time. Also seasonal. But that’s basically canon. I’ll never figure it out

Basically, if it involves school tests, I’m your girl, and I therefore work insane hours from February to June and then assignments are more sporadic for the rest of the year. As for whether or not I like it...It’s unexciting, but that’s what I was looking for in a job, and I wouldn’t say I dislike it. I get to work from home (very important now that my grandmother can’t stay by herself for long periods anymore), and my work days take the form of “someone writes a list of tasks, will leave me alone while I work on it, and will give me a reward for ticking all the boxes in a timely fashion.” I’ve always liked that format, with results ranging from “I was good at being a student, so much so that I actually enjoyed taking standardized tests” to “also Gardenscapes and Letter Soup, between them, ate my life over Christmas this year, while I was too sick to read and needed something to fill the hours until it got late enough to decently take the PM cough syrup and go to sleep.” It produces a mental state that’s (relatively) focused but also fairly unemotional, which is a nice break from even the pleasanter forms of ADHD brain-chaos. Sometimes the flurry of ideas is a lot of fun, but sometimes you just want a rest, you know?

you have like. A Lot of books on one hugeeeeee shelf. you’d invest in a library like room if you had the space but you don’t so it’s alllll on one shelf

I wish it would still fit in one shelf, even after creating three rows of books per shelf, but alas – about ten years ago, I discovered the joy of the Friends of the Library sale and it’s Fill-A-Bag Sunday. Cram as many books as you can manage into a paper bag and pay ten dollars for the lot. Suffice it to say I have a lot more books than I would otherwise. My bedroom no longer has anything even vaguely resembling “wall space,” and I’ve spilled over into the living room and the General Storage Room...it’s not quite as bad as it sounds, since these rooms are all very small, but it really has gotten a bit silly no matter how I slice it.

you have a warm palette like wardrobe. millennial fashion sense but not necessarily millennial yourself

Based on what I got from the Google - I can work with millennial tops, the alleged millennial trousers are a hard ‘no’ for me. I much prefer gen Z’s adoption of wide-legged trousers, both because I think I look better in them and because I find them much, much more comfortable, at least as long as the waist is fitted.

As for color palettes...I think my thing is more ‘bright’ or ‘saturated’ than warm or cool? It should not really work for someone as fair-cool as me (I have trouble finding foundation colors to match sometimes), but I think I look as good in orange and red as I do in turquoise and rose. My one thing is, I can pull off light shades of blue or yellow, but they have to be pretty saturated, if that makes any sense. Anything too grey-looking or faded/washed out-looking or dusty-looking just...doesn’t work. At all. At least in my opinion, and “is this reasonably comfortable?” and “do I think this looks nice?” are my main/often only considerations when it comes to all things sartorial.

you’re like. Fourty (I’m sorry if this is egregiously wrong)

Eh, 33, 40, same difference. Or at least less than a decade’s worth of difference, anyway ;)

infodumping queen literally Everywhere. no restraint

This is accurate and I wear that crown with pride, though I do understand why people can get annoyed when I get too close to speaking in five-paragraph essays, lol.

blogs from their bed with a patterned blanket over your leg, a cat next to you, and your busted laptop on said lap (got the laptop fact from your comment on burn fast burn bright a superrrrrr long time ago, but I do remember it. top ten comment ever FR!!!)

This is pretty accurate. It’s either that setup with my laptop or that setup with my phone. Also, yay memorable comments!

your fic notebooks are full of notes and lore we’ll never see in your fics/universes and I would probably kill people to get my hands on it and read it all with fresh eyes

This might be the headcanon of yours that’s furthest off the mark! Most of the lore is both ultimately info-dumped into the story (or at least its footnotes) and is mostly kept all in my head. FWJB Parts I and II are the only things I ever wrote that had even a semblance of an outline.

we’ve never gotten your pronouns or gender . that is 100% valid but I’ve Wondered. I’m thinking a she/they, but I stick to they/them to be safe, I hope that isn’t too presumptuous of me

Oh, yeah, sorry about that – I’m a she/her. Not presumptuous of you at all.

not exactly a hc but wherever the name calli came from. is that your real name or a Username thing. I remember tentatively using it a Long Time Ago, and it just caught on. am I responsible for that. I don’t know and I’m too scared to find out. Tell Me though

I’m not sure if you were the very first to dub me Calli, but I do seem to recall you were at least an early adopter. You very well could have been the first. It’s just from the username, though, and the username is a result of me playing with word roots while half-asleep one night during the period where - despite how out of practice I was, and how terrible I've always been at coming up with usernames - I was starting to seriously consider making an AO3 account and actually writing the GF fics percolating in my brain…Long story still kinda long, I stuck a bit of this and a bit of that together, then swapped out some letters to make it flow smoothly/look like a word, and like a word I’d find aesthetically pleasing to look at.

also hi. I’m glad you’re okay!!! soooo much stuff has changed but I’m so glad you’re still here no matter how sappy or weird that sounds.

Aww, you’re sweet. Good to ‘see’ you, too, especially since Christmas gift cards mean I can probably finally read <i>Good Omens</i> at some point in the near future and thus comprehend that half of your fics!

#trivia #asks #thanks for the ask!

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ballorawan740 · 3 years

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SCP Scenarios: When they accidentally kill you

Requested by: okokok121 + @RitaRoseFromBBB

(Ok, I know you did ask for the doctors + Mikell and Strelnikov, but I've decided to add the SCPs in here if that's alright with you. And also, sorry if I didn't capture Strelnikov's attitude well as I'm not as familiar with him compared to Mikell, yet again I'm not familiar with Jack Bright's family other than TJ and 321)

Sorry if it wasn't up to your standards. I just felt that some of these characters weren't the type to kill the reader, even if it wasn't intentional.

WARNING: Slight Angst

Dr Simon Glass

Simon wouldn't be the one to accidentally kill you himself, but it's more of the situation he put you in without realising the full extent of the consequences. He was just busy writing his patients' reports, and you just strolled in his office to check upon him. Simon stopped what he was doing and smiled with you as you both ate your food in his ever so clean office. As you were about to leave, Glass requested you to deliver something to Jack Bright in which you did. You and Jack were close friends (not so surprising since you're both equally as mad as each other) so if Simon wanted to know where he is or if he needed to give him something, he would go to you first. You managed to deliver the parcel to Bright in 682's containment cell and you both laughed before you returned. Unfortunately, 682 was having a rough day due to being a subject to Bright's test (I would be too tbh) which caused him to become more aggressive than usual and attacked 3 researchers. One of them being you as 682 dragged you down to the acid bath with him and Jack rushed to save you. Bright wasn't able to and he had to fulfil;l his duty to tell Simon Glass that you passed as 682 had killed you during a test. Needless to say, Glass was forced to take time off with Bright due to this event and he became more distant for months to come. Bright had to keep it together just so Simon wouldn't have to lose the shred of sanity he had in him.

Dr Jack Bright

You and Bright were doing some tests on one of the more dangerous SCPs (no, it's not that giant mf lizard of that warrior killing machine) in which your job was to handle these creatures while Jack was doing all the lab stuff. The SCP you both were conducting your research on was ●●|●●●●●|●●|● (SCP 2521 - We're getting ripped tonight, RIP my friends) and you were doing all sorts of things which resulted in you summoning this creature out of the blue by accident. Bright had to drag you out away from the creature and you just stood there observing its behaviour until it noticed you. Jack Bright had to take you on the run yet again (cuz you do be stoopid and stubborn so all yall wanna do is stare at something that's gonna kill ya. JUST RUN BIATCH!!!) but the SCP managed to catch up with you both and snatched you before Bright could even get help. Jack was astonished and deeply depressed since the incident and was left increasingly agitated after every walking day and even Glass couldn't get him out of his shell. He would pretend that everything's fine, but deep down, everyone knows that he's not (that's a whole ass mood right there buddy). Bright was extremely guilty for making you research 2521 and tried to summon it again, but all other scientists stopped it.

Dr Alto Clef

Clef was just doing his job, managing all the Keter class SCPs with ease and without hesitation. You know this from first-hand experience on your very first day on the job 3 years ago and Clef took an interest in you so he took you under his wing. So on this mission, he's on, he wanted to take you with him so you went along (not like you'd say no to this madman anyways right?). It was a breach on one of the sites with a sh- ton of Keter class SCPs and your jobs were to exterminate/neutralise them and save all the other researchers in which your team did do well and were still alive. You on the other hand were killed in action by SCP 939 (NOW WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS RELEASED MY PETS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION?!). Clef wasn't able to save you on time, but he managed to kill 2 of those SCPs. When he got back, he hid in his office and was depressed for 23.3 weeks and when he managed to drag himself out, he was bawling his eyes out. He deeply regretted taking you on a mission with him and swore an oath that if he were to ever take another person under his wing (probs in like 50 years), he would do anything in his power to not take them on a life-threatening mission.

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

You were out with Kondraki, just laying on the grass like you normally do as you just watched Kondraki take photographs of various and random stuff. Not long later, you asked him if he could teach you how to become such an avid photographer like him, so he did. However, little did you and Kondraki know that his butterfly friends felt danger lurking around the area you were in and quickly transformed into a threatening SCP to defend you both. Lurking around the woods were uncontained 939s running loose on the ground in which the booterflies attacked it. One of the red lizards was ready to pounce onto Kondraki to which you ran and pushed him out of the way (BAD DOGGO ))),:<). Luckily he was unharmed, but you, on the other hand, was heavily injured so Kondraki rushed you back to the foundation's medic. You died there shortly after and Kondraki blamed himself for getting you hurt on a harmless visit to the woods for some photographs. Bright and Clef begged Glass to do some psychological evaluation on Kondraki despite him telling them that he needs some time alone before he could do such things.

O5 Council Mikell Bright

When you're with Mikell, he would be his true self, being honest and relaxed since you're his most trusted partner. Moreover, he would tell you everything about what the O5 Council has been doing and their top secrets and you would always keep your lips sealed. The other members are wary of this at first but soon warm up to you since you're one of the most trusted individuals. Being with the cowboy is quite entertaining and you'll be quite protected being with him, so most of the time, you get free reign over the foundation, however, you still had to obey the rules as you weren't exactly a member of the O5 council and that would also help you from making people think you're sus for being treated so differently. That day was one of the days where your freedom got the better of you as you were on a mission with Mikell and he was about to aim at the target until you pushed him out of the way from danger. He quickly gained his composure and tried to shoot the anomaly behind you which he missed and shot you instead. Mikell was in shock and tried to get the medics, but by the time they arrived, you've already passed. Jack had to check up on his brother regularly to see how he's doing and to make sure he doesn't fall off the edge, reminding him that you wouldn't want to see him this way.

Agent Dmitri Arkadeyevich Strelnikov

As an agent, Strelnikov's life and his closest friends and relatives would be on the line. He wouldn't know when, where or how he would die and is in constant fear of losing everyone around him, especially you. One time, he took you on a mission with him since you were trained under him and he felt that you were ready to go onto your first-ever mission (well too bad, it's your last mission since y'all just suck at your jobs and this poor man has to drag you up from hell and y'all just fall back in) and so you guys went and attempted to gain information and track down some SCPs. Dmitri had to save you a few times since you didn't heed his advice and looked behind your back and that one time he left you on your own, you were murdered by a ruthless group from one of the GOIs. This, of course, deeply saddened agent Strelnikov as he was washed away by the guilt he had from leaving you to stand by your own 2 feet. You were a bright and gentle person who always looked up to him, always eager to learn and never want to fail him. These traits are what drew you to him and he was hoping to have you on his team permanently, however, that dream was long gone (just like your non-existent brain cells trying to keep your life together so y'all don't do stupid things) as you were snatched away from him in an instant. He wrote the report once he went back to the foundation and locked himself up for so long the doctors had to get him out (like your guardians whenever you don't wake up in the mornings).

Extras:

SCP 073 (Cain)

You and Cain were strolling around site 17 until a containment breach happened. Cain had to drag you by your arm since you froze (like a deer in headlights XD) and didn't react to anything since you were afraid. Luckily you did manage to get your senses back together and ran with him. Not long later, a Keter class SCP came charging at you and in a panic, Cain pushed you aside without a glance which caused another SCP to kill you since you were blocking the way. He looked over to you to see that you were wounded, lifted you up, and found a medic. Cain blamed himself for not looking carefully and had he done that, you wouldn't be dying. By the time the medic and you both arrived, you were already at the brink of death and when 343 finally arrived, you were long gone. 343 had to calm 073 down from trying to seek revenge once again but he can't due to the overwhelming guilt he had on him. 343 managed to ease his mind a bit which caused him to blackout. The researchers had to put him under their watchlist to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid (like you when you're studying for your important exams).

SCP 076 (Abel)

It was a normal day for you and Abel to hang around until this one mf guard angered Abel to which caused a containment breach. He went on a rampage (you do be here like Hercules! Hercules! XD) in which you had to try and calm him down. By the time you went to the main part of the facility, you saw many of the D-classes and researchers beheaded (like the previous queens in- never mind). When you had found Abel attempting to slaughter a guy, you jumped in front of the victim and by the time Abel realised that you were there, his sword cut you open in half (KO! 10 points to Gryffindor). He was overwhelmed with guilt and anxiety about him killing you by accident and returned to his box as demanded by the MTF members. The scientists noticed a change in Abel's behaviour and never questioned it. Those who knew what had happened never mentioned it in fear of another breach and left him be.

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

It was an ideal Saturday night at the foundation. You and our adorable 999 was wandering around the facility minding your own business until some madman came charging into the foundation. The alarm for the breach went on and everyone was confused since there weren't any dangerous SCPs on the loose. As it turns out, it was an intruder from one of the other GOIs trying to kidnap some of the SCPs. You and 999 just so happened to be in the exact same spot as the intruder and was holding a weapon of some sort. Realising what's happening, 999 pushed you out of the way just as the intruder fired her weapon which missed you both. One of the agents caught up with both of you and tried to shoot the intruder but ended up shooting you just as you got up which killed you. 999 never greeted any visitors in his cell ever again for quite some time and the researchers attempted to bribe him but failed.

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

You were requested to take part in a test with 682 and another Keter class SCP in a test room and your job was to make sure 682 weren't allowed to lash out at the researchers because of this test. However, this certain Keter class SCP has decided that it wants to attack you in which 682 shoved you aside to protect you. The researchers ran in to save you but the other SCP managed to pounce on you and suffocated you to the brink of death. 682 was about to take a chonki bite out of that SCP but instead, he bit you instead, killing you instantly. He regretted every decision he has ever made and never attacked the foundation staff for months.

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

This doctor was just minding his own business until some dumbass researchers rushed into his room like some fanboys trying to get their noona's signatures. 049 was entertained by this remark but was soon agitated as they disturbed his work and wouldn't leave him alone. So, 049 used his lethal touch on some of the researchers as the rest ran. Luckily, they ran into you, so you managed to calm down the angri bird doctor. Unfortunately, that didn't go as planned as he had mistaken you as one of the other fanboys and stabbed you right into your heart. As soon as he had realised what he's done, he rushed you into his cell and performed surgery on you. Mid-surgery, he soon realised that you were losing too much blood and died right then and there. He mourned for quite some time as the other researchers were severely punished as it had led to your death which could've been avoided.

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Like the other SCPs mentioned in the list, there was a test that resulted in your death. 035 was instructed to change to another human as the black goo was secreted from the mask and so he obeyed as you were slouching by the corner of the test room. Except for this time, it is being worn by a taller and more muscular man who was a wanted man due to his former job as a mercenary. As the researchers watched intently, the mask soon felt slightly overpowered but was resolved quickly due to his evergrowing abilities and experience in possessing those who come near it or is wearing the mask. The mask spoke of the discomfort of being overpowered to which the researchers took note of this statement and watched. You were somewhat concerned to you went closer to your beloved partner to check up on him. However, upon coming closer to 035, he switched his usual persona to the man wearing it, becoming more aggressive and unable to control this body, killing the first person he sees, which was you. This stunned the researchers as the guards tried to pry him off you. When they managed to get him off, you were no longer breathing. In the next interview with 035, he displayed extreme guilt and sadness of his inability to possess the man well enough to control him fully and made a request for him to be left alone for a while.

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

You both met up during the breach a few steps away from 096's cell. He was wandering around to find you while covering his elongated face. All the other researchers were outside trying their best to stay calm and deal with this massive breach until they just saw 096 walking about looking for someone. It instantly clicked in their mind and offered to look for you as long as he goes back to his cell afterwards to which he agreed. Upon finding you, another SCP was attempting to attack you but was soon neutralised by the other MTFs. 096 managed to push you away beforehand but his throw was so strong that you died on the impact when you fell to the ground (you really did get yeeted lmao). As 096 and the others ran towards you to make sure you were ok, you had stopped breathing and 096 screamed in sadness which flooded the whole field. As he was contained back to his cell, they noticed a small detail about 096 which was him wailing every now and again about your death.

SCP 105 (Iris)

You and Iris were just strolling down site 17 to meet with Cain and Dr James Dantensen. Once you've arrived at the agreed location within site 17, you guys were just catching up with old times and sharing your memories and stories about your everyday lives. However, this jolly moment only lasted for so long as someone had breached the containment to target you as you were close to a lot of the SCPs, especially the humanoid ones. As you, along with the others, ran to safety, the enemy caught up with you and threatened you for your knowledge of the SCPs. Iris finally caught up with you just in time to see the commotion and shoved you out of the way. Cain managed to shield you from another guy who attempted to shoot you in which Iris retaliates by throwing a knife back, but instead, injured you instead. She ran over and screamed as you slowly blacked out. Cain had to carry you over as Dantensen was calling the medics and you barely managed to survive. During your days in the hospital, the suspect managed to suffocate you which alarmed everyone. During the days that followed, Iris had been seeking out revenge as Cain tried to make her stay calm and think more rationally.

SCP 106 (Old Man)

It was another day spending some time in 106's pocket dimension as you relaxed with him. You both talked about your past experiences and the obstacles you both had overcome. Once you both were done relaxing (aka never you lazy catto so get up and do something useful for once cuz I don't wanna see yall get screamed at by your family and non-existent friends (jk jk i hope they're treating you well)), 106 took you back to his containment cell and just sat there as the researchers looked at you both blankly. 096 caused a containment breach which, of course, freed you both from 106's cell and you made a run for it (RUN FOREST RUN!). As you and 096 came into contact, 106 tried to put himself between the both of you, knowing what 096 was capable of. Unfortunately, this resulted in 106 being attacked and you died from looking at his face (wear a damn mask 096, you're in the middle of a pandemic). Saddened by the news, 106 seek revenge but was briefly neutralised and shipped to another facility so it wouldn't cause another breach due to his rage.

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makingspiritualityreal · 3 years

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Numerology Life Path 7 - Your Birth Card and its Ruling Planet

Numerology Life Path Numbers and their assigned Tarot Card Meaning Series This is a post in my new astrology/numerology/tarot series, that only concerns you, if you are a Life Path 7. Posts on consecutive Life Path Numbers will follow. Originally, I wanted to do them all in one post, but my writing turned out to be so long, I decided to split the post and seperate the Life Path Numbers. The introduction part of the post will be the same for all Life Path Numbers, in case you only read a post about your own Life Path Number, and nothing else. Introduction The concept of a Birth Card links Tarot and Numerology together, in order to deepen our understanding of a vibration of a Life Path Number we are born with. The Birth Card, or rather Birth Cards, are Major Arcana Tarot Cards with assigned numbers, which correlate with Life Path Numbers. Understanding the meaning of tarot cards, mixed with the knowledge of Numerology Vibrations, helps create a more unique vision of your life experience. A person with any given Life Path Number, having several Major Arcana energies present in their lives, usually struggles with one of the energies more than the other. As a result, life will probably force them to focus on mastering one of these energies. In general, however, any Life Path describes both your biggest downfall and ultimate triumph - just like with an Astrology Chart, the highlighted numbers/astrology houses point to your biggest strengths and weaknesses. For a better understanding of this concept, visit my article “Natal Chart - A map of your issues?” Remember, that everyone, besides their Life Path Number and Birth Card also has a unique astrology chart. Thus, for some people embracing the higher expression of their energy is easier, for others it’s harder and it takes more time to master, and some energies become easier to deal with than others. Most human beings are somewhere in between, working on their path and having some achievements while struggling with difficulties at the same time. In the spiritual community, there are differences in opinion on linking Astrological Planets and positions to specific numerology numbers energies. My take is a result of my own personal experience, conversations with other people in my field and research, in order to give you the widest possible spectrum of ideas and increase the understanding of every Life Path Number. If you are a Master Number 11, 22 or 33, there will be a seperate post on how the Birth Cards apply to you as well. Even If you have only a basic understanding of Astrology, Tarot or Numerology, this post will still be helpful to you, because it describes the unique vibrational mix that comes from the expression of both these spiritual sciences mixed together. To calculate which Tarot Cards and what Life Path correspond to your birthday, click here.

Life Path 7 - The Chariot and The Tower

The energies of a Life Path 7 are ruled by the ephemeral, compassionate, wise vibrations of Ketu and Neptune. This can make it one of the most challenging Life Paths to navigate, as it requires a higher level of spiritual mastery and an ability to constantly assume a bigger picture perspective. That is a difficult thing to do in a world so highly revolving around materialistic concepts. Yet, if you are born with this Life Path Number, a certain free-spirited attitude and refusal to be sucked down into too many mundane details is something you need to develop within yourself.

Such a highly spiritual soul purpose associated with a Life Path 7 is due to Ketu being one of the primary rulers of this Life Path Number. Ketu, ruling detachment from the material realm, forces this life path to focus more on the energetic manifestation of their physicality instead of trying to navigate it through practical means. Ketu is also highly analytical, making this people excel at tasks, that require solitude, contemplation of abstract concepts and individual work. These people can make excellent writers or inspired researchers.

The other planet associated with a Life Path 7 is Neptune, the agent of universal, humanitarian compassion. That gives this Life Path a very loving, yet impersonal nature, where they express caring and kindness towards humanity and people in general, but may remain confused in one-on-one relationships. In this way, a Life Path 7 is a flip side of a Life Path 2, who thrives in intimate situations, but should open up more to group activities. A Life Path 7 naturally seeks out crowds, where they can occasionally show up and recharge on their need for a collective exchange of compassionate energy. Yet, in private situations, they can struggle to focus on their partner, open up or truly connect with another, as they are always absorbed in their own little world.

Because of Neptune being such a high vibrational planet and Ketu giving the ultimate higher-dimensional mastery, the spiritual consequences of wrongdoing for this life path are more severe than for others. These people need a moral compass, spiritually, the most of all life paths. In extreme cases, I have seen Life Path 7s fall prey to accidents and disease, if they succumbed to the temptation of their lower instincts.

Because of Neptune's influence on this Life Path there can be a significant difficulty in finding their way out in this material world, which can lead to poverty or other practical problems. If one neglects consulting their higher, intuitive nature and stays within the confines of the material, there may be an illusion of desire for a get rich quick scheme due to an innate lack of practical sense or ability to build without external help. These people, if they overfocus on the material realm, may get frustrated due to lack of dividends or practical rewards, or they may simply waste their resources away due to an internal feeling of emptiness and dissatisfaction. If they get overwhelmed with this conflicting energy and forget to search within, they may forget their true purpose altogether. Yet, because of the foggy energy surrounding this Life Path, they don't have the capacity to intellectually or physically fully power through their problems like other life paths do, and they shouldn't even try. The only solution is going with the flow of their natural spiritual direction. That is imperative, as breaking out of this flow causes poverty, debt, sickness, forced isolation and all sorts of trouble in the physical world. Material prosperity will only appear in this person's life proportionate to their level of spiritual prosperity.

Associated Tarot Cards point the way for a Life Path 7 towards assuming a successful direction in this incarnation.

The Tower - This card is the testing moment, when we lose everything that we are used to having around us. But the purpose of this loss is always in our highest good. This is why things fall away at a critical point in our lives, when the foundation is so corrupted it can no longer support itself. The Tower is actually a tool of keeping things in check spiritually, meaning then when things go too far down the wrong direction, the Universe balances it with a Tower moment in order to prevent an imbalanced energy from growing further. The Tower points to this Life Path's ability to discard the excessive burden of material illusions and continuously purge in order to make sure one remains "pure", spiritually, free of self-deception and in tune with one's inner guideline.

The Chariot - The Chariot is linked to Ketu's thoughtless manifestation, that this Life Path possesses. A Life Path 7, regardless of their spiritual inclination, needs a firm direction not to drown in their negativity. Even for this Life Path, their spiritual nature needs to have anchor in the physical world, that keeps them on track with their journey. That anchor is balance, that the Chariot card represents, the balance between their inner shadow and light. A mature Life Path 7 knows how to preserve that balance, and drive that carriage effortlessly.

A Life Path 7 should never choose an easy way out, as it will backfire for them more than for anyone else. Not only will it cause misery internally, but also externally people will mirror it to them and they will be disapproved of for their wrongdoings more than any other Life Path number. It is as if others subconsciously sense their higher nature and place expectations on them to act accordingly with it, so where other Life Paths might get a pass, this Life Path number will not. In reality, it is the Universe's tool to assure that these natives stay on their correct, spiritual path, and it is Life Path 7s themselves that have a high level of subconscious, spiritual analysis and self-judgment. As a result, any negativity that comes their way from the outside is a projection resulting from their own deeply rooted high spiritual expectations, and an internal disappointment, if they are not met.

The best advice a Life Path 7 can hear is that it will always pay off for them practically to be kind and preserve their spiritual integrity. It is essential for this Life Path to realise, that any lower energies they invite for short-term gain will immediately backfire, and deep down they are unhappy with themselves for making any wrong choices in the first place. Ketu has a perfectionist nature to it, and a Life Path 7, whether they realise it or not, has a deep level of internalised spiritual perfectionism. An unaware Life Path 7 can become judgmental, trying to hold others to this high standard that they carry internally, while refusing to face their own actions. This process is simply a mirrored expression of a desire, to reach that point of excellence by themselves.

If you are a Life Path 7, solitude is something essential to your well-being. Make sure your lifestyle allows you to make time for yourself. It is in isolation, away from the external noise that may unnecessarily cause you to project your spiritual desires on others, that you can work on yourself, find truth and connection to your ultimate power of deep, analytical understanding of this existence.

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 3 years

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test drive

{ synopsis : you and nct were bored so you decided to go around the table and disclose a lot of sexual information (it gets more and more sexual as you read on ;) }

{ genre : headcanon/sexual }

{ warning : this is solely my interpretation of nct 127 and not confirmed information }

{ word count : 1.7k }

“I guess I’ll start then,” taeyong inhales a deep breath. “…im a switch” taeyong says dramatically and puts his head down as if it was a big secret. you all looked at him with a straight face, not saying anything until he looks up again. “what?” taeyongs eyes dance around the table.

“tell me something I don’t know” you snark.

“what do you mean?” he visibly furrows his eyebrows.

“she means, we all know that you love to be tied up and whipped,” jaehyun says blankly. “who's next?” he further says cutting taeyong off completely.

“im next, let’s just go around the table,” johnny says looking at the others. “i’m a dom obviously”

“tell us why. oh, and everyone has to explain why just so they know. except for taeyong, the lyrics you write say enough” you look at him and everyone laughs. taeyong makes a face in return and you smile before looking back at johnny.

“because i’m not getting tied up and shit, the girl is. i’ll allow her to feel up on me but that’s it.” johnny shrugs and looks at haechan since he’s next.

“i’m a dom but will allow a girl to have her fun. i’ll let her do whatever she wants just because she loves it. it won’t happen too often tho because i’ll be taking control most of the time.” haechan says, nodding and looking at jungwoo.

“um… switch. I like to be in control but I also like a woman who could dom me hard. like the whips, handcuffs, blindfolds, all of that is hot. they don’t even have to be used on me it’s just the image of a woman who is like that, is so sexy. especially when they wear lingerie” jungwoo bites his lip softly, seemingly getting lost in his thoughts.

“so your like taeyong? got it. next.” you point to taeil.

“I guess… switch because I want the girl to have fun, as long as she’s enjoying it then I am too” taeil shrugs simply.

“dom… do I have to explain myself?” yuta shifts his eyes around the table.

“yes”

“because I like to do the tying up and fucking, not the other way around. but if I really love the girl then i’ll let her have her fun until I take control again” yuta explains and then leans back in his chair.

“dom but I wouldn’t mind a woman taking control” doyoung says.

“so… switch?” johnny says.

“no, dom” doyoung looks at johnny.

“no- you know what never mind. just go jaehyun” johnny makes the ‘whatever’ hand gesture.

“dom all the way because im the top, simple. my girl will be moaning my name and that’s, that” jaehyun shrugs and the group moves their eyes to mark, who looked he was deep in thought. his head was pointing down at the table, it took for a tap on the shoulder to pull him out of his thoughts.

“is it my turn?” mark asks with wide, confused eyes.

“yes mark” yuta replies. a/n: I can hear his voice lmao

“my bad, um… dom; my girl is not performing all that extra shit on me, and quite frankly I don’t think I will either. I would probably only use handcuffs and that’s it… what’s that called?” marks eyes look around the table for an answer.

“soft dom?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“yes, that’s it” he points to you. “i’m a soft dom”

“cute, next,” you say the first part sarcastically. “my turn” you smile devilishly at the boys, looking at their faces individually. some of them looked confused, blank, or amused.

“i’m a… switch” your nose scrunches up as you smile. “it really depends on the person, like if they give me sub vibes then I automatically wanna dom them but if they give me dom vibes then i’ll want to submit to them” you smirk. “I could make every single one of your dreams come true”

“oh really?” johnny cocks his eyebrow and you nod with a small smile. “alright then go around this table and say what vibe each of us give you; oh and you have to say what you want to do with us” you widen your eyes and almost choke on your spit when you hear that. the boys are amused at this and clap their hands.

“I don’t think that’s necessary” you wave your hand.

“sure it is y/n” doyoung smirks. a bunch of yeah’s come for the guys, agreeing with doyoung.

“I don’t think your ready” you shake your head, looking at all of them. they protest at this statement, making you sigh and then finally agree to it.

“taeyong” you smile staring at him. you see him visibly gulp as his eyes are staring back into yours, that’s when your demeanor completely changes. “you give me switch vibes and I want to dom you. I want to tie your hands behind your back, blindfold, and whip you. I’d want to hear your pretty noises too” you smirk the whole time you release the words. he awkwardly laughs in return, not knowing what to say to that. the other guys were a mix of amused and dumbfounded but you didn’t pay any mind to it purposefully.

“johnny” you look at him and smile innocently. he stares at you with eyes that were slowly seducing you. “dom vibes. I want you to cut off my airways with your hands and then make me cum so many times that I end up passing out” you bite your lip teasingly, trying to get under his skin a bit and it works. he’s looking back at you with dark eyes, most likely imagining the scenario.

“haechan” you bite your lip and look him up and down. “dom vibes but doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you from behind” you wink at him, making him widen his eyes the farthest they’ll go. “although, I do want your lips all over my body” you click your tongue and look at the guy next to him.

“jungwoo” you say lovingly and put your head in your palm. “switch vibes. your appearance changes a lot, from cute to hot in the blink of an eye. anyways, I want to dom you and give you your ultimate fantasy. I want your eyes to be focused on me and me only baby boy” you look at him with dark eyes and he returns that same look to you. “and I want those lips on my body too” your teeth tug on your bottom lip slightly before shifting your eyes over.

“taeil” you smile sweetly at him, scrunching your nose cutely. “you strike me more as the I don’t care vibes. like you don’t care if your top or bottom, you just want to be with your lover. but honestly, I would wanna make love to you more than anything and that’s the truth” you shrug and he grins.

“yuta” your eyes automatically get darker. “hard dom for sure. I want you to rail me until I can’t walk anymore, and I want to make out with you” he cocks his eyebrow at you which you find so hot but you decide to keep your cool.

“doyoung” your eyes soften at his bunny face. “switch vibes. I want to ride you and make you moan my name” you lick your lips. the small, yet effective sentence was enough to make him so flustered he had to cover his face. you knew just from that, that you’d done your job successfully and decide to move along.

“jaehyun” you look him up and down with an amused face. “dom vibes, so much that it makes me wanna suck your dick so bad. your confidence can come off as cocky sometimes but it’s hot all at the same time. I wanna make you feel so good” you bite your lip. he’s playing with his bottom lip and looking back at you with attentive eyes. you end with a wink and look to mark, to say the least, he looks terrified.

“mark” you smile with a pout playing on your lips. “calm down, you’re a soft dom obviously and I only wanna have vanilla sex, you know regular, standard sex.” you shrug.

“isn’t that boring though?” taeyong says.

“with mark, nothing is ever boring” you smile softly at mark and he gives you a light smile back. “alright i’m done” you sigh. “you guys hungry because I am” you go to stand up but johnny wraps his hand around your wrist from across the table, gripping it firmly.

“ah, ah, ah, you're not going anywhere princess, sit down and don’t make me tell you again” you swore he was eye-fucking you right now. his eyes were focused on you heavily, moving their way up and down your body.

“yes, daddy” you grin and sit down. johnny bites his lip harshly and takes his hand off your wrist. you felt a sadness at the loss of contact but then felt a hand on your thigh. you look up to find out who the owner was and you weren't too surprised to find that it was taeyong. he looking at you, looking you up and down before looking away. what was it about the outfit we're wearing that attracted all of them? all you were wearing was a tank top and some leggings, that’s literally it what was so special?

you look down at yourself immediately identifying the problem. your shirt had been too low for an undisclosed amount of time. you were on the verge of flashing them all without noticing it but you think you were more upset that they didn’t let you know.

“really guys? you couldn’t help out a friend” you shake your head and adjust your bra and pull up your shirt.

“but then we wouldn’t have gotten to see all that we just saw” johnny replies instantly.

“is that true?” you look around the table and they nod in compliance. “you all are perverts” you breathily laugh.

“you shouldn’t be talking” jaehyun fires back.

“but- you’re right” you shrug and it gets quiet. “so… what do you guys want to do now?” the guys all look at each other, smirking and nodding, some whispering to the other. you didn’t know what they were talking about but whatever it was, there was no way it was good. they all then stop talking and look at you.

“we want to test drive you”

NCT Masterlist

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saltedpeppermintmocha · 3 years

Text

how sweet it is (to be loved by you) - todoroki x reader [chapter 2/8]

Summary:

You are the head baker and owner of a struggling bakery. When pro hero Creati comes in for a wedding cake, of course you accept.

As a business owner, you are excited about the boom in profits resulting from the publicity of working a hero wedding.

As a baker, you are ecstatic to work on an extravagant cake - your most ambitious one to date.

As a woman, you are terrified as you begin to grow feelings for the one person you REALLY cant: the groom.

NOTES: NO infidelity, NO cheating, NO divorce!

Chapter One

MATURE : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+

Four Months Before the Wedding

“Hello.”

His voice is deep and his words soft-spoken. He politely kicks his winter boots against the mat at the front door and takes another step into the bakery. The movement causes flakes of snow to detach from his hair and flutter to the ground around him. It’s almost magical, like a scene from a fairytale. Wow. You can’t help but stare.

The man is tall -more so than you’d thought from the rare interview you’ve seen of him- and impeccably well dressed. His expensive-looking navy coat is long and chic, somehow managing to fit both his smaller waist and powerful shoulders. It’s probably tailored. You idly think of your coat hanging in the back: an item you’ve had for about five years now that definitely looks its age. What wouldn’t you give to be one of these rich people that for some reason seem to be visiting your bakery recently.

That thought brings you back to reality. Right. Pro hero Shouto is in your bakery.

Why is he in your bakery?

It slowly dawns on you. Rich people. The wedding. “Oh, you must be here for the cake.”

“I am.” He nods, looking around the little front area. You feel a little self-conscious, hoping that everything he sees is up to his standards. “Forgive me, were you about to close?”

“No no!” You wave your hands as he turns to look at you. “It’s okay! This actually works better, we can discuss everything without being interrupted.” Walking over to the door, you flip the sign over to ‘closed’ and gesture towards the seating area. “Please take a seat. I’ll go grab my stuff and be right back.”

Turning on your heel, you head for the back room without another look back at the hero. Instead of going straight for your wedding binder and notebooks, you lean against the nearest wall and place your head in your hands.

Oh my god. Shouto Todoroki is the groom.

Somehow, this wedding is an even bigger deal than you thought. Obviously, any hero wedding became an important event, but you had thought (hoped, even) that maybe Creati was marrying a civilian or a lesser-ranked hero. The wedding would still be a big deal, but you were confident in your ability to handle it. Shouto Todoroki, a beloved hero in the top 15, is definitely not what you were expecting. This wedding is bound to be huge in a way that you definitely had not prepared for.

The hero profession is a solitary one. Pro heroes rarely date, and if they do it is a very secretive affair. It is extremely dangerous to date a hero and those brave enough to try become an instant target for villains. This target only gets bigger the higher the hero’s rank is, and most top heroes don’t even try.

Thinking about it, you can’t really think of any of the top 10 heroes other than Creati (apparently) who are in a relationship. Sure, there were rumors about the number six hero Deku and the number twenty-four hero Uravity, and Endeavor must have had someone if he has kids but-

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

Todoroki is, well, a Todoroki . He is Endeavor’s son. The terrifying number one hero will probably be at this wedding. The number one hero will probably eat your cake. And if it’s both Todoroki and Yaoyorozu’s wedding, you can bet that a bunch of other big-name heroes will be there as well. Your vision swims as pressure pushes on your shoulders. How can you even begin to deliver a cake up to this caliber? You might be good, but you’re just one person.

You’re going to need to block off more days.

After what is probably a suspiciously long pause, you manage to calm yourself down enough to push off the wall to grab your binder and notebook. You pause before heading out to the front area, taking a deep breath to steel yourself before walking out.

Todoroki has found a small table near the window. He has partially turned away from you, face resting on his palm as he looks out to the snowy street. He has taken off his scarf and coat, both draped carefully over the back of his chair. How does he manage to look so elegant while doing something so normal?

You pinch your thigh. Stop it. You can’t think this way about him. You have to be professional. He is a client. He is a married man .

“Sorry for the wait!” You call out, heading over. He turns to look at you as you sit across from him, placing the binder and notebook on the table. You take this opportunity to introduce yourself properly. Up close, you find him even more handsome than before. Those dual-toned eyes are calm and watchful, and his sharp features have a symmetry to them that would not look out-of-place on a Vogue Japan photoshoot.

“Nice to meet you.” Todoroki gives a polite smile, shaking your hand when offered. It’s quite cold. “I believe Momo has already spoken to you about the general idea.”

“Yup!” You nod, taking the moment to open your notebook. “Unless things have changed, we’re still going for a five-tier cake.” Glancing up, you wait for him to nod before continuing. “What design are we thinking of?”

You look down, ready to write quick notes on whatever design has been chosen. This is the part you’ve been both excited for and dreading the most. Normally, you are extremely excited to get a design and to work to bring that design to life. You live for the expression you see on the client's face at their first look at the finished product. This time though...you’re nervous.

The design that is chosen will either make or break your next few months. If the design is easy and normal, you will be able to complete it on time with confidence. If the design is unusual and complicated, you honestly don’t know what you are going to do. This cake has to be perfect down to the smallest details, and you have to balance your time between the cake and running the store. Maybe you can hire another baker on a contract for help. Hmm.

After a few moments of no response, you look up. “I don’t know.” That normally blank face seems unsure. His mouth pulled into a small frown.

“You...don’t know.” You blink. That’s a bit weird. “Okay...I just thought that you would have a bit more input.” He is the groom, after all. You didn’t think Yaoyorozu was the kind of woman to insist that only she had input in these matters. Wait. Was that rude to say? You decide to push past it for now. “No matter, as long as we can get the full contract done for today I’ll be happy. I’ll need the design elements as soon as possible though if we want them to be completed on time. Some parts will probably need a lot of planning. Do we know the flavour or flavours yet?”

“No.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth. Calm, be calm. “ Okay. I’d like to set up a taste test of the top requested flavours, so that you can get an idea of how the cake will actually taste and make the final decisions. I’ll need to do that as soon as possible.”

“I understand.” He nods, a bit stiffly.

“Do you...have a date in mind?”

He gives you a surprised look, two-toned eyes flickering over you. “...for the wedding?”

You sit up straight. “No!” What the hell? Did he think you were propositioning the groom to his own wedding? “You obviously have a date for the wedding. For the taste test!”

“Oh.” He replies simply, not seeming to understand the absolute absurdity of his own question. “No, I will likely not be involved with that. I only came today as a favour.” A favour?

Todoroki takes note of your confused expression and explains. “They got held up by the villain attack.” Oh, that makes sense. Yaoyorozu must have gone to help the others. The U.A students tend to appear whenever possible to help each other out. You think it’s sweet that they have such a strong bond after graduation. You don’t really talk to anybody you went to school with anymore.

His explanation does give your meeting a bit more context. If Yaoyorozu is ‘in charge’ of the cake, and Todoroki did not expect to even be meeting you, you can’t really get too annoyed at him that he doesn’t have the answers. At least he showed up and didn’t leave you wondering if you’d been stood up by the heroes. In the end, you decide to table the question about the cake tasting date, but underline it in your notebook. You’ll need that, soon.

The rest of the meeting goes smoothly. The two of you go over the contract in as much detail as possible. While it is extremely unorthodox for you to leave blank spaces in your contracts, you are sort of forced to do so in the areas of flavors and design. In the end, the hero couple is paying over double the amount you would normally charge for the cake. You can’t imagine any crazy design or flavour going over that cost. Neither hero seems like the crazy type of client. You’ll be fine. Hopefully. If you’re wrong then...well...you’re kind of screwed. The publicity has to be worth it.

After only about an hour of discussion (you really don’t have too much to go over, with Todoroki knowing nothing about the design or flavours), the meeting is over. You close your notebook, stand up and offer a hand to shake to end the meeting. Todoroki stands, shaking your hand with his cooler one. He assures you that somebody will reach out to you soon about the needed elements. You hope you’re right.

“I am sorry that I kept you after hours.” He says as he gracefully slides on his coat, glancing outside. “I hope you don’t have too far to walk.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry, I actually live upstairs.” Something flickers in his face that you can’t catch.

Then he nods. “I see.” He wraps his scarf around his head, somehow managing to look both cute and attractive. He heads towards the door, the bell chiming as he opens it. “Goodbye then.”

“Goodbye!” You smile and wave. “Be safe out there!”

You watch as he leaves, completely still until you can no longer see the red and white hair out the window. Letting out a deep breath, you sink back down into the chair.

Well, that sure was something.

----

You’re not sure exactly what prompted the suddenly quick response after so long of nothing, but some of the information you need comes the very next day.

It’s early morning. The store has just opened, you can hear the slight bustle of your loyal morning folk as they come to get their breakfast. Your morning worker -a young man named Tanaka who is almost scarily jolly in the morning- welcomes everyone with his juxtaposition of a voice: booming yet somehow soft.

You have been down at the bakery for hours now, getting the first round of bread, pastries, and other necessary items complete before opening. It’s a lot of work, but you can’t complain. At least you still have work. You have just finished a batch of your personal favourite, rosemary goat cheese croissants when your phone rings in your pocket.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket (the thing has been covered in flour before, it’ll be fine), you check the contact name.

[ Contact: C Manager ]

Your eyes widen, and you instantly accept the call. With one careful eye on your ovens, you walk over to a nearby wall and lean against it. “Hello?”

"Good morning.” The soft voice of Yaoyorozu chimes in on the other end. You straighten a bit, surprised to hear the hero directly. “My apologies for Shouto the other day. I understand he wasn’t too much help to you.”

“No no, it’s okay!” You gesture with your hands, realizing afterward that she obviously doesn’t see it. “He was really kind, and we still got some work done.”

“I see.” She hums thoughtfully on the other end of the phone. “Well, he did mention that you were getting stressed about certain elements of the cake. Is that correct?” Oh no. You hope she doesn’t think you’re being rude.

But she doesn’t sound annoyed or frustrated at you. If you had to guess, her tone sounded more amused than anything. You bite your lip before answering. “Ah, well...I don’t want to pressure anyone. I just need to get started on certain things or it won't be done in time.”

“Yes, I understand.” She responds. “I figure I can give you some of the design ideas now if that works?”

Oh, hell yes! “That would be wonderful!” You can’t help but smile. Finally. “Do you want to meet somewhere?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m caught up in this-” She pauses as a loud sound comes through the phone. “ thing at the moment. Will you be amenable to me giving you the details over the phone?”

“Oh, yea! That’s okay.” You push off the wall and rush towards the office area, grabbing the newly named ‘Y&S Wedding’ binder with your flour-covered hands. It’s fine. You anchor the phone between your shoulder and your face and grab a pen with your other hand, opening the notebook to the ‘design’ page. “Okay, what do you got?”

The cake turns out to be pretty normal as far as wedding cakes go, which you are extremely thankful for considering everything. It is a five-tier cake, classic white with cascading pink flowers and green stems/leaves. That is...definitely doable. You can ace this. Thank god. Relief hits you hard in the chest as you write it down.

“Is there anything extra that either party would like to be added?” You ask, your tone dipping into complete professionalism as your mind has a mini-party at the relatively easy design. You doodle a happy face beside your notes.

“No, that is alright,” Yaoyorozu replies. “It was a struggle already to talk him down from some of the crazy cake designs he had in mind to something more...appropriate.” A pause. “Not that any of the ideas were bad per se, but I don’t think the wedding is the place for a giant All Might statue cake.”

Your mind-party screeches to a halt. What?!

“He...wanted an All Might cake?” You ask in disbelief. That doesn’t sound like Todoroki at all. Maybe it was a way to ‘get back’ at Endeavor? There have been plenty of rumors over the years about that relationship, but they team up enough now that most have been pushed to the side.

“Yes, well, he adores the man.” She says it with a fondness that seems almost inappropriate considering your current state.

You think of the calm prince-like man from the day before. Could he really be that big of a fanboy of a hero like All Might? It just doesn’t compute. They were so different. You really can’t picture it. Still, it’s not like you really know Todoroki. Maybe he has some secret obsession or something.

Somehow, you feel like you’ve gained some insider knowledge. The press would pay a good amount for something like this. Not that you ever would go to them, ew. Actually, would they even believe you if you did? It was so absurd.

You realize that you have disappeared into your own thoughts. A big no-no when on the phone with a client. You pull yourself back. “Thank you for the design! I will get to work right away. Do we have any idea when we can do a cake tasting? That is the last big milestone here.”

“I’m sorry.” She responds, sounding truly apologetic. “It’s...difficult between all of our busy schedules. I promise I will work to get something set up.”

Well, honestly that is all you can really ask for. You thank her for the information and her time. The two of you say your goodbyes, and hang up. For a moment you stare down at your notebook in surprise. This is not how you expected things to go. It’s early, and you have a lot to do today. You already can tell you will be partially distracted, your brain trying to figure out the specifics of the design.

You smile. In the end, finally, you have something you can work with.

------

1 Week Later

Ten minutes before closing (of course) , the bell above the door chimes. You can’t see who has walked in, your back to the door as you wipe down a table. You take a brief moment to close your eyes and breathe before turning around.

“Good evening!” Your customer service voice is normally on point -the stuff of legends really- but this time it becomes higher-pitched at the end.

Shouto Todoroki stands in your doorway. Again.

After the last meeting, you truly didn’t expect to see the man again until his wedding (maybe not even then). He didn’t seem to have any input in the cake decisions, nor did he seem to care about not having any input.

“Oh, hello again.” You smile, fighting to keep your voice steady as you shove the cloth in your apron pocket.

“Hello.” His mouth ticks up in a soft smile.

“Were we supposed to have a meeting today?” You ask, pulling your phone out of your pocket to look at the date. No, you don’t think there was a meeting scheduled. You see Todoroki shake his head in your peripheral vision. The hero politely kicks his shoes on the mat and takes a few more steps into the store. Heterochromatic eyes look around for a moment before catching on to something to your right.

“Then what can I do for you today?” You ask politely, following his line of vision to your display case. “Here for a snack?”

Those eyes look straight back at you. “I want to order another cake for the wedding.”

What?! Your heart plummets. Another cake?! This late?! When you’re already having trouble getting the specifics on the first one?!

Todoroki seems to notice your panicked expression, hands going up in a calming gesture. “Not a large cake, but one of those small specialized ones.”

Your panicked thoughts pause. Wait. “Do you mean… a groom's cake?” Please be a groom's cake. You can make a groom's cake.

He nods. “It’s a surprise.” A surprise? For Yaoyorozu?

“Uh, sure. I can do that.” You reply. “Hold on a sec.” Instead of going for your physical notebook in the back, you decide to simply bring up the note app on your phone. It’s not as professional, but it works in a pinch. “Is there a theme?”

“All Might.”

You blink slowly, mouth opening in surprise. All Might?!

The conversation with Yaoyorozu comes to the forefront of your mind. Is he...really just an All Might fanboy? That seems so wrong, somehow. You narrow your eyes at his blank expression, considering him.

“...you must really like him, huh?” You whisper.

Todoroki tilts his head a bit to the side, eyes narrowing in confusion. “He is a very good teacher.”

...is that enough to get an entire cake based off of the man?!

A long moment passes where you both stare at each other, neither seemingly sure of what to say. Eventually, as the professional you have to break the tension. “Well, okay. I can definitely do that. Groom's cakes tend to be relatively small and fun. What elements are you looking for?”

“I will leave that up to you.”

“Uh, are you sure?” That is a lot of power he is just handing you, especially when he seems to care so much about the retired number one hero.

“You are very highly recommended by the Uraraka’s.” Do the Uraraka’s know everybody?! “I don’t really...have an eye for design either way, and as the wedding gets closer I feel like I may become too busy.”

“That makes sense.” You mumble, writing down on your notebook app. Weddings are normally difficult things to plan, and you can’t imagine the amount of stuff necessary for a large hero one. If he wants you to design the smaller cake, you can do that. Your mind is already pulling together a few ideas. Similar to the large cake, you’ll need to make this one amazing. “What budget are you thinking?”

“Is 50,000¥ enough?”

Startled, you look up. 50,000¥ was a lot for a groom's cake. You want to tell him so but said groom is no longer in your line of vision. Glancing over to your right, you find the hero looking into your display case. He seems to care very little about the amount he just mentioned (ugh, rich people) so you simply say. “Um, yeah...that’s enough.”

You walk closer to the man, wondering why he seems so interested in the unsold pastries. “You are about to close, but there are so many left.” He looks up as you get closer. “How much longer will they last?”

Stopping to stand about a foot away from the man, you also look into the display and frown. “Oh...yeah, they are probably going to be thrown out, sadly.”

“Why?” At his soft voice, you glance over at the hero. Your eyes lock with two-toned ones.

“I try to sell the leftovers at half-off the next day, but they still barely sell.” You shrug. “I try to give as much as possible to the local shelters, but it isn’t always possible.” Looking outside at the hail coming down, you know you won't make it there today.

“Do you always make too much?”

“No.” You sigh, looking back at the sad, unbought pastries. “We used to be much busier, a year or so ago, but that chain bakery opened down the street and took a lot of my customers with it. Sometimes I still find myself baking as if it’s as busy as it was a year ago, just on habit really.”

There’s a long silence. Then, “I’ll buy them.”

Your eyes widen as your head swings towards the hero. “What, all of them?!”

“Yes.” He nods.

“No no no you don’t have to do that.” You find yourself saying, hands waving uselessly in front of you. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you or anything, it’s okay. You don’t have to-”

Todoroki shakes his head. “No, I want to.”

He looks straight at you, eyes telling you that he won’t back down from this. And well, you’re really not sure why you are refusing him. Maybe it’s the worry that he thinks of you like a charity. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The next five or so minutes are spent with you packing up every last dessert and pastry into bags. Todoroki will need to use both arms to carry them, but the man doesn’t seem concerned. You are about to put the last rosemary goat cheese croissant away when he interrupts. “Wait, can you leave that one out?”

“Oh, sure.” You reply, placing it on a napkin as you close the paper bags on the counter with a piece of tape.

Todoroki reaches forward, his hand grabbing the croissant with one hand and bringing it to his mouth. One bite, and small parts of the flaky pastry flutter to the ground. You don’t mind, it makes you happy that the croissant lasts the entire day. Also, his wide-eyed expression is adorable.

He chews a bit more and swallows. “It’s good.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “You don’t have to say that, you know. I won't be offended or anything.” Okay, a bit of a lie. You adore those croissants.

“I’m not lying.” He insists, two-toned eyes staring straight at you. “It’s really good.”

His eyes are a bit more intense than normal. You look away, your cheeks warming a bit at the complimentary words. Shit, no. Married man. Nope. Not going there, even for a second. “Well, thank you.” You even your voice and continue packing the bags, keeping your eyes away from the man.

Once done, you carefully slide the bags across the counter towards him. “Here you go. Do you need help taking them anywhere?” Your professional voice is back.

Todoroki gives you a weird look, taking the bags in his hands. The croissant he was eating is mysteriously gone, although you notice a small crumb on his cheek. You look away. “No, I will be okay.” His deep voice echoes a bit in the small room.

After a brief moment, he walks towards the doorway. “Thank you for coming!” You call out, not moving from behind the counter. It’s safer here. “I’ll get started on the groom's cake right away! If I see you again, I’ll run my ideas by you.”

“I’ll come again.” Todoroki looks back with a small nod. “I hope you have a good night.”

The hero leaves as quickly as he appeared, disappearing out of sight only moments after he exits the bakery. If you had a chair behind you, you would sink down into it. As it is, you rest your hands against the counter in exhaustion.

These heroes were taking a lot out of you. Damn.

-------

2 Weeks Later

You stare up at the imposing building ahead of you, dread pooling in your stomach. The building itself was a hotel, tall and beautiful in architecture. That doesn’t matter too much though, you’re not exactly here for the hotel. No, you are here for the fancy-as-hell restaurant at the top: Eragawa.

Even the elevator to the restaurant is fancy. Luckily you are alone in it, so you are able to stare and judge your reflection in the mirrored walls without anyone seeing you. You frown, using your free hand to try and pat some of the flour off your shirt and organize your hair a bit. It doesn’t work, you already look extremely out of place.

It’s not like you wanted to be here at this fancy restaurant in your work slacks and shirt covered in various ingredients. The day had started normally, with you planning to spend your free time getting caught up on overdue paperwork. However, a text early in the morning ruined that plan.

[ Contact: C Manager ]

C Manager: Creati will meet you at Eragawa today at 7:30 p.m for the taste test.

Truthfully, you were starting to get a bit annoyed. The manager never asked your opinion, or even if you were free at the time they wanted you to be. They would always just make plans without you. You understood that Creati must have a really busy schedule right now, but damn . Still, it’s not like you could refuse. You had been waiting for this for a while now.

You: Okay. Thank you!

So, you had spent the rest of the day busier than ever. In between baking and managerial duties, you had to make a variety of cakes and icings in different flavours. Since you didn’t have any idea of where to start, you picked the most common flavours for her to try. It was... a lot to do on your own, and not for the first time did you wish you had some sort of assistant.

By the time you had everything ready to go, you had just enough time to make it to the restaurant. Knowing how impossible it had been trying to get this cake tasting appointment in the first place, you didn’t want to risk anything by being late. You had no time to shower or even change out of your work clothes. You simply grabbed the container of cakes, threw on your old coat, and ran out the door.

Now, though, you wonder if maybe it would have been better to be a bit late. The elevator door opens on the top floor, revealing a modern-looking restaurant in dark colours. You clutch at the handle of the container and look around. Wow. Nobody here looks like they would be caught dead in anything not a designer brand.

The hostess looks you over with a critical eye as you approach, but smiles and welcomes you nonetheless. “Good evening! Welcome to Eragawa, how can I help you today?”

“Um, hello.” You smile awkwardly back. Even the hostess is dressed nicer than you, damnit. “I’m with the Yaoyorozu group?”

The hostess blinks slowly at you. “Of course. Please wait here for a moment.” She turns to disappear into the back, another host taking up her post. You shuffle to the side of the waiting area and look around. The restaurant just screams ‘posh’ with its white tablecloth and candles and napkins folded into roses. You’d bet those glasses are made from actual crystal too. Damn.

The elevator door opens again as a group of well-dressed men and women walk in. You lean into the wall, trying to make yourself invisible to the other customers. It doesn’t work, and a woman in a fancy dress looks down her nose at you as she passes. The host takes them immediately to their table. Figures.

Eventually, the hostess you were talking to returns. “Please come this way.” You notice her smile is a bit larger this time as she leads you through the dining room. Quite a few patrons give you odd looks as you walk by, clearly not used to someone covered in powder walking through the area.

The hostess leads you past the dining room to a hallway in the back. You have just enough time to wonder if you are being taken out back like some sort of mafia movie before she stops at a door. She turns and opens it, bowing low as she gestures for you to go inside.

You walk through, eyes wide. Somehow, the private room is even more extravagant than the dining room. It’s dark and modern, like the rest of the restaurant, with giant windows overlooking the city. A beautiful crystal chandelier hangs from the tall ceiling. In the middle, two people sit at a round table. They look up as you enter.

Yaoyorozu’s eyes widen as she takes you in. You offer her a sheepish smile, before glancing at the other person. He looks at you with a carefully blank face, but you know he must be thinking something by the way those heterochromatic eyes flicker up and down over you.

Both of them are dressed beautifully. Yaoyorozu is in a gorgeous maroon dress and Todoroki in a light-blue button-down shirt and dark pants. They look properly dressed for this occasion.

Somehow, you feel even more embarrassed. Your cheeks warm a bit as you take a step into the room. “Um, hello.” You attempt a smile. “Sorry if I’m late, I just closed the bakery. Hello again, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki”

“Were you unable to get someone else to close the shop?” Yaoyorozu asks. If someone else were asking, you’d assume it was some sort of dig. Instead, she honestly just sounds concerned.

“I would if I could.” You reply, placing the cake carrier on the table. “Unfortunately, it’s just me.”

The two of them share a look that you can’t decipher. You just hope that you haven’t somehow embarrassed them. “Anyways,” You begin, trying to lighten the mood. “I come bearing the best gift of all, free cake!” Not much of a reaction there. Maybe a free cake to a rich person isn’t as great. Hm. “I’m actually glad that both of you could make it, this way we know for sure that the cake is up to your standards.”

Yaoyorozu looks at the carrier on the table. “Should we wait until after dinner?”

“Ah, I actually have food at home.” You lie, wringing your hands in your lap. There was no way you are staying here. It is too awkward. “If you like, I could leave it with you and head out? I won’t be able to stay though.”

“I see.” Todoroki replies, sharing another look with Yaoyorozu. “Then, shall we begin?”

The cake tasting goes...weirdly. While you have brought a wide variety of selection, the two come to a decision within the first three cakes. Their final decision doesn’t even come from one of your options but is rather a mix of a few they haven't tried yet. In the end, they decide on a vanilla cake with both a strawberry and matcha layer in the middle. They decide on it quickly, too.

“Do you want to try the samples I have?” You point to your cake options with strawberry and matcha. It’s a smart move. For all they know, you suck at these flavours.

However, Yaoyorozu simply shakes her head. “You are recommended by the Uraraka’s.” Her mouth ticks up as she looks over at Todoroki. “Plus, Shouto brought your desserts to the agency a few weeks ago. They were a resounding hit. I am confident in your abilities to pull this off.”

You turn to Todoroki, eyes wide. “You did?!”

He nods. Your mind blanks for a second at the implications. A bunch of heroes eating, and liking your desserts. That is really cool. Still, there is a very different matter at hand. “B-but those are pastries and desserts, not cakes.” You try to get them to see sense. The cakes are right in front of them, why are they messing about?

“It will be okay.” Yaoyorozu nods. “And, well, to be honest I do have another meeting I need to attend.”

Wait, what?

Didn’t they want to have dinner? Why is she leaving? You blink in confusion as the woman stands up. She looks over to Todoroki first, smiling, before turning to you.

“Good night you two.” She says kindly as she turns, walking out of the room with only the clicking of her heels audible. The door closes softly behind her. You stare at it for a moment, mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.

“What just happened?” You turn back to look at Todoroki. The man is also wide-eyed, staring at the door. “Uh, are you okay?”

That seems to shake him out of it. Heterochromatic eyes shift to you. “Yes.” He nods. “We should also leave.” The hero stands up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. It’s the same long navy one you admired the first time you met him.

“Um, okay?” You reply, confused. Oh god, you hope you haven’t done something to somehow ruin their entire night. Dread curls in your stomach as you pack the cakes back up into the carrier

Todoroki leads the way back to the elevator. Yaoyorozu is no longer in sight, probably long gone by now. The staff seems as confused as you feel as you leave, sending odd looks to each other. Your stomach tightens a bit more.

It’s only when you reach the elevator that something clicks in your head. You were dining with two heroes, who both suddenly started acting weird. Really, there is only one explanation you can think of: there’s a villain nearby.

Your heart pounds heavily as you enter the elevator, clutching the carrier tighter in your hands. If there is a villain nearby, why didn’t the heroes evacuate the restaurant? Maybe it’s not safe. Maybe they have to wait for more heroes or a hero with the right quirk?

Despite having lived in Musutafu for most of your life, you’ve never been too close to a villain attack. You have always counted yourself lucky in that way, but maybe your luck is running out. You glance over to Todoroki at your side. The hero doesn’t look any particular way, that blank mask still on his face.

The two of you exit the elevator and head out of the hotel lobby. There is a distinct lack of heroes or police outside, which surprises you. Yaoyorozu must have called for someone, right?

Todoroki leads you across the street to the nearby sidewalk. “What do you need me to do?” You whisper as you finally come to a stop. “Do you want me to call the police?”

“The police?” He looks down at you, tilting his head slightly in confusion. Then his eyes narrow. “Is something wrong?”

Is something... not wrong? You look back up at the hotel, where everything seems completely normal. There is no screaming, no fighting, nothing. Oh.

As the panic subsides, another layer of embarrassment begins to creep in. Were you really freaking out over nothing??

“I-uh, thought that since we booked it out of there so fast, something had to be wrong.” You look away and try to explain, face warming. “Maybe like a villain or...something.”

“Ah.” He replies. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then...why did we leave?” You risk a glance back up. Todoroki is still looking down at you, expression once again soft.

“You were uncomfortable.” He replies simply.

You can’t even deny it. “So we left?”

“So we left.”

Well, damn. That’s sweet. “But...what about your dinner?”

He pauses, looking around. “Where do you want to go?"

“Uh, I have food-”

“Don't lie.” He interrupts, looking back at you. “You spent your whole day working and baking these cakes. You didn’t even have the time to change before coming here. There is no way you had time to make food.” That’s the most you’ve heard him say at once. Huh. And well, he’s right.

“I could have leftovers?” You attempt, knowing that you’ve been beaten. Your shoulders slump a bit as you consider arguing more. Who are you to be eating with a hero anyways? But...you are tired and hungry. All fight drains from your exhausted bones as you look up at him. You think about potential places as you look around. Honestly, you haven’t been to this part of town much (other than a few fancy dinner nights with your ex, but you don’t want to think about that). Todoroki waits patiently as you think.

“Well...I know one place.” You finally say. “But I’m not really sure if it’s your style.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “I’m sure it's good if you like it.” Oh god. Why does he say those things? You hide your flushed face by walking away. The hero falls into step beside you, seemingly content to let you lead the way.

Walking with Todoroki at night is an ethereal experience. You know it will be a part of your dreams for years to come. Both of you are quiet, taking in the scenery as you walk. It’s cold through your thin jacket, and you shiver a bit at first. It’s a bit weird, but after a few moments, the temperature seems to rise. You put it down to scientific anomalies.

“There it is.” You point out a small stall half-hidden on the street. The two of you make your way over to the small. You keep one eye on the hero, ready to abort at the smallest sign of hesitation from the man. This is definitely not his usual scene.

When you are almost there, the man pauses. You turn, looking up to his face. “Todoroki?” The hero looks surprised, eyes wide and staring at the name of the stall.

“It’s perfect.” He responds, before starting to walk again. His pace is faster than normal, and you have to actually speed up to keep beside him.

As you finally make your way up to the soba stand, you call out. “Hey Haru!”

Haru -a middle-aged man with a bald head- looks up, smiling big when he sees you. “Hey! I haven’t seen ya sorry face ‘round here in a while. How’ve ya been? Come ‘ere to chat with this old man?” His eyes then catch on Todoroki. “Ah, I see.” His smile ticks up into a smirk.

Your own eyes widen. “No! It’s not what you think, Haru. We’re just here to eat.”

Haru doesn’t look like he believes you but lets it go. “Havin’ the usual then?” You nod. He turns to Todoroki. “And fer you?”

“Do you have cold soba?” The hero asks, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Hah! Do I have cold soba?” Haru replies sarcastically. “‘Course I do!”

“Haru makes the best soba on this side of the city.” You say, looking up at Todoroki. The hero looks down at you, and his expression makes you pause. His face is soft and kind, eyes glittering with delight. He smiles.

Your stomach flutters. You push it away and smile back.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x you #todoroki shouto x y/n #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #j writes #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #reader-insert

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

We’re Alright

Summary: For the angst prompt “I miss being in your arms.” John and Lucy Watson keep in touch by email while he’s away for the war, but when Lucy’s latest missive goes unanswered for several weeks, she begins to worry about her brother.

Characters: John Watson & Lucy Watson (Watson!sister)

Content Warning: Angst (and comfort), War, Alcoholism

It was so quick, email.

The short span of time that passed from inception to send to received made it so Lucy Watson could connect with her brother in mere minutes, or half a minute if she typed quickly enough, almost no time at all in the scheme of things. She should have been more grateful for it, for the connection, for the ability to reach her brother when he was so far across the globe, unable to reach him or hear him. And she was grateful, even if it always left her wanting for a bit more.

It was much faster than dealing with the standard post. In theory, John received the messages as soon as they were sent. He had hypothetical access to her words at the very moment she hit the send button. He could write back the very same day, even.

These days, Lucy rarely felt closer to her brother than when a response made it back to her within the hour, a coincidentally timed missive full of what always seemed to be a detailed, thoughtful response to almost every word she'd sent his way, John's words swallowing her up like a hug, like an arm snaked around her shoulder while he asked after her day at school, like his careful hands addressing the careless wounds as he did in her childhood or his soothing voice calming her juvenile worries, the man chiding and commending and soothing her as appropriate, the perfect blend of stern and fun and proud. It sometimes amazed her how John managed to be all of those things in a matter of seconds, achieving it all through the medium of a simple email.

It was the knowledge of that very fact that brought Lucy Watson a bit of concern.

Her latest message had been sent almost two weeks before, cast off in the middle of the night, sometime after her older sister finally passed out, after her wife had left and Harry was exhausted from the booze and the fighting, tired from yelling at her wife and younger sister when the person she really wished to yell at was herself.

Harry and Lucy Watson had reconciled in the time since, the shouting and painful words that had passed between them a willingly forgotten piece of the past, something in Lucy almost wishing she hadn't sent the email to John that night, not at that alarmingly late hour when he'd be questioning her for being awake. Part of her would have been happy now to let the moment remain in the past, to allow it to become buried, to eventually be overshadowed, forgotten by the inevitable next time arrived, the encounters cushioned by the calm they were living in now.

It was a cycle Lucy was familiar with, the times of peace and war that passed through their household, its bounds determined by Harry’s drinking and the apologies, the unfilled promises and the feelings both sisters often left buried and untouched. They were back to peace now, back to their usual indifference, but the cycle was steady, predictable.

Lucy knew they'd go around again soon enough.

She read through the email settled in her ‘sent’ box once again, the eleventh or so pass since she’d originally sent it, her eyes skipping over the introductory small talk about school assignments and the weather to the only thing that had brought her any comfort during her brother’s digital silence, the vague picture she’d painted for them, a small memory revisited, nothing more than a casual question to test his recollection.

‘Remember when I was little and Harry’d chase me around the garden and when I grew tired, I’d run to you to keep me safe?’

The inquiry had originally been followed by ‘I miss being in your arms like that,’ a sentence Lucy deleted before sending the message into the ether, feeling too sentimental and obvious by it, too exposed even though it was only John on the other end of the message, or maybe feeling that way because it was John on the other side and he’d know the question truly meant something more, was hiding something more.

Lucy hadn’t wanted to place that concern on her brother, had only hoped he’d take the same comfort in recalling the moment that she did. Or maybe she’d wanted him to know, to pry, to make her confess it all, comforted more by the prospect of that than the memory of simpler times ever could accomplish.

In John’s silence, the comfort any of it brought her was waning. The longer she waited for a response, Lucy thought more that this was one instance of ‘no news is good news’ that brought her little satisfaction, and even beyond the silence, beyond the need of confirmation that her brother was alright...and safe...and alive, Lucy simply needed her brother. She needed him to remember the moment, to bask in the inherent and nostalgic goodness of it, and though Lucy had made it difficult for John, made it more cryptic to decipher, she did want him to simply know that things weren’t quite right at home without her having to say it. She wanted him back.

Lucy knew she couldn’t really have that, though. She couldn’t have him or his hugs or his smiles or the dry wit or the knowing looks he’d often dole out, a gentle scold offered with just his eyes, a message of doting care given with just a twitch of his lips as he tried to temper an insistent smile. Lucy had accepted that, accepted that she had to subsist on a more meager version of her brother’s comfort. His words. Imagined expressions. Memories.

Lucy spent more nights than anyone would have believed tucked away in bed with her older sister’s laptop, re-reading the messages she and John had passed back and forth since he’d gone away, imagining her brother’s voice as her eyes scanned over the screen, imaging his laughter and scoffs, imagining him fixing her with a look which said he knew precisely what she was leaving out, that he somehow knew that there was more there, more she wasn’t telling him.

John always knew. He was well aware that Harry wasn’t the perfect caretaker for their Lucy, knew that the girls had their rubs, knew that Harry had her struggles with the drinking, but there hadn’t been another choice, and John had always been comforted by the fact that his sister’s wife was there, a source of stability and calm for Harry, and for Lucy, too, but there were still things that troubled him.

Lucy read over her original message another time before pulling up the message she’d started drafting to her brother days ago. It was short and overly formal for the two of them, a brief ‘I hope you’re well. Please write me when you can,’ sandwiched between a sterilized greeting and send off.

Lucy hovered over the send button, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she prepared herself to click, hoping beyond hope that John’s lack of reply was nothing more than a mistake, praying that his silence was due to a message gone incorrectly to the spam box or an instance of an unread email mistakenly set to read, willing herself to believe that the follow up message wouldn’t go unanswered.

Lucy’s finger continued to hover as the weary sort of silence that usually followed the woosh of a newly sent message prematurely settled within her. It was a terrible sort of vacuum that sucked everything along after it and she imagined all of her hope and wishing and patience would be sent off with the message itself, leaving her with very little left inside. She resigned herself to passing what little remained of the night, or the morning rather, with just that feeling for company, curled in her bed watching as the rising sun reached through her curtains to ease her into another day, but the chime of a new message came before she could bring herself to hit send and she moved to her inbox, pulling up the message from John, only two lines in length.

The first chided for the time her previous email had been sent, but the second was a morsel that could feed her for a bit. It was just an overly casual ‘You can reach me here for now,’ the words accompanied by a phone number, one she recognized as originating from England, in London.

The computer fell to the side as Lucy scrambled for her phone, fumbling with the keys as she dialed the number, her breath held as the rings continued on, a sob caught in her throat as a gruff throat clearing sounded from the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Joh—” Lucy swallowed down the lump in her throat. “John?”

John sighed at hearing his sister’s voice, the heightened pitch nearly catching, nearly breaking before she’d reached the end of his name. His sigh was heavy despite being such a small gesture, filled with exhaustion and impatience, and still yet an ounce of understanding and compassion and pity at the very same moment.

“Lucy…”

She felt the lump in her throat thickening at hearing him say her name after so long, a few insistent tears spilling down her cheeks in the short moment of silence that engulfed them, her breath quietly hitching before John continued.

“It’s rather late, sweethear—”

A sob broke from Lucy’s end of the phone line. How long had it been since Lucy Watson had heard that particular endearment directed her way? John hadn't even finished with the word and she'd already been pulled apart by it, years of feigned strength and composure at John's absence ripped entirely from the girl.

John sighed again, setting aside his incriminations about the hour, hoping the curtain pulled closed between him and the roommate he’d been assigned to just the morning before was enough not to disturb the man. He seemed to be snoring still, so it was either that or the sturdy painkillers he’d been prescribed keeping him asleep.

“Alright, sweetheart,” John whispered into the phone, turning his body away from his neighbor best as he could with his limited range, shifting the borrowed laptop to safety. “It’s alright.”

Lucy continued crying on the other end of the line, coughing over her sobs and gasping for breath, seeking more air to fuel the painful howling, her attempts at verbal response to her brother nearly incomprehensible. And the pain of hearing that, the ache of listening to his sister in such a state and not being able to do a thing to help, he could swear that was far worse than the residual pain in his knee, far worse than the gunshot itself or the surgery or the intensive physical therapy regimen he’d been enduring since. The sensation filled his entire body. He felt it in the dropping of his stomach, in the drying of his throat, in the persistent ache in his heart, but John pushed it all aside and cleared his throat firmly enough to speak over the growing lump.

“It’s alright. Let it all out, sweetheart.”

John lost track of how long it went on like that, with him simply listening to the sounds of his sister’s anguish, a few years of pent up frustration and grief and hurt coming out of her in waves as he listened on helplessly from his bed in the London rehab, wishing he was there to soothe a bit of her pain, but settling for uttering of a string of comforting words that Lucy latched onto like they were an embrace, clinging to it as if John was right there in her room tending to the passing of a nightmare, dulling her pain and cries until it all shifted and the sounds that came from her were no longer filled with anguish he hadn’t known her capable of holding. They both shared a bit of relief as the line grew quiet, nothing more than their cadenced breathing falling between them.

Lucy sniffled and cleared her face. “You’re in London?”

“Yes,” he said.

“You’re home. You’re safe.”

John considered the allegations, considered the truth of her words even though there were parts of him that felt far from safe, parts of him that still felt kilometers and countries away, still in Afghanistan, still fighting, and a sound came from his mouth, the start of a shaky breath stifled almost as soon as he’d released it.

“You’re alright,” Lucy offered. “We’re alright.”

John cleared his throat, his grip tight on the phone receiver as he nodded to himself.

“Yeah, we are, sweetheart.”

Three or four deepened breaths passed between them then, the Watsons each staring out their respective windows at the dawning sky, the dark night slowly, but insistently turning to day.

“Lucy?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re alright?”

“Better,” she mumbled. She wouldn’t be quite alright until she actually saw him, but hearing John’s voice had made her feel better and it would be enough to carry her through until she could have the real thing. “You?”

“Better,” he confirmed, “but you should get to bed. You have school tomorrow.”

Lucy hummed as she smoothed her hand out across the quilt, reaching out to shut the laptop and set it away on the nightstand. “But I am already in bed, John.”

John snorted, his sister’s cheek loosening a part of him that had become too stiff while he had been away, some small part of him thawing as he smiled into the receiver.

“Better indeed,” John laughed. “Sleep well, sweetheart. Call me tomorrow.”

Sherlock BBC (Lucy Watson) Masterlist

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist

#sherlock fanfic #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock bbc #john watson #watson!sister #sister fic #500 follower celebration #hb.writes angst

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footballandgirls2 · 3 years

Text

Some thoughts about each player’s performance which no one asked for but you’re getting anyway because I have Opinions That I Need To Share.

Jane Campbell

With the US back line being so solid means that their keepers are rarely challenged. It boils down to concentration for if/when the back line slips up, which is rarely more than once or twice a match. Jane kept her concentration and came off her line quickly when needed (like, twice) so in that aspect, which is pretty much the only aspect we can analyse against lesser teams, she delivered.

Becky Sauerbrunn

The back line is so good because Becky is SO good. I can only remember one pass that wasn’t executed perfectly. Diagonal balls fantastic, as usual. Wouldn’t expect anything less. Clearly doing a great job as (official) captain.

Tierna Davidson

Baby T looked so at home out there that it’s easy to forget she’s just 22. So mature, so calm. Good positional awareness and fantastic forward passes. Would love to see her tested against bigger teams because she’s held her own so far. Would be difficult to leave out Becky or Abby but if either can’t play for whatever reason, Tierna deserves to be straight in there.

Kelley O’Hara

Funny to see a pre-planned sub at 30 minutes rather than 60 minutes?! Either way, in those 30 minutes she was classic Kelley, getting high up the field and overlapping with the midfield seamlessly. If that knock is still bothering her, you couldn’t tell. Still the number one RB choice.

Emily Sonnett

What a difference a game makes. Massively struggled against Brazil which is to be expected against the likes of Marta but her decision making in that match was questionable. Much better in this game and managed to play her way out of trouble really well a few times. Got higher up the pitch which led to some decent crosses in the box. Also, SO versatile - 3 positions in one match requires quick adaptation which Vlatko no doubt appreciated.

Casey Krueger

Didn’t come up short (👀 - sorry!). Would never have guessed she wasn’t a starter because she absolutely smashed that LB position. Link up play with Kristie down the left side was spot on and her diagonal balls to switch the play were amazing too. May be too late for the Olympics 18 but showed she has a few years left on the national team.

Midge Purce

Is a great defender considering she’s not a defender. Decent passes into the box and tracked back quickly when necessary. Would love to see her get more solid minutes.

Julie Ertz

Played so deep she was literally on the back line half the time? Weird considering Argentina weren’t a huge attacking threat. Wasn’t as instrumental as she normally is. Sure she’ll be back though - it would take a miracle for her to not make the Olympic roster.

Rose Lavelle

A fairly quiet game by Rose’s standards but that’s a testament to how incredible she usually is. Probably tired from carrying the midfield in the last two matches! She’s literally everywhere and overlaps beautifully with everyone. Her creativity was missed when she wasn’t on the pitch. How someone is so fluid on the pitch but so awkward off it is baffling. Love it.

Lindsey Horan

As above in terms of being relatively quiet. Seemed to tone down the physicality, for better or worse. Don’t think she’s an inherently aggressive player but is just so god damn strong that she wins nearly every one-on-one without even tackling. Impressive, really. Managed to get loose in the box on set pieces and unfortunate not to connect for a classic Horan header.

Kristie Mewis

W. O. W. Deserved the start and proved it throughout the 90 minutes. Fantastic movement and turn for her goal. Maybe doesn’t press as hard as other midfielders but her positioning is amazing. Making a BIG case for taking her to Tokyo.

Jaelin Howell

Fit in easily in midfield which is hugely promising in such a talented team. Would like to see her get more minutes. Can’t see her making the Olympic roster just yet but definitely a bright future.

Sophia Smith

Got in some good positions in the box and was stopped only by an Argentina who marked so closely in the second half. Also needs more minutes because there’s no way she’s replacing Tobin as the right forward. Yet.

Christen Press

Every minute she plays, she gets closer to being back to her best. Still think she’s got a way to go because when she’s on fire ain’t nobody stopping her. Would like to see her take on more players 1v1 because as showed against Brazil she’s more than capable. Good positioning in the box waiting to poach for her goal.

Megan Rapinoe

If you think she’s too old, she’s not. She’s slightly slowing down physically for sure but not mentally. She’s on this team to get goals and she delivered by having the awareness to get into good positions and the confidence to take on the shot. Nowhere near a write off.

Carli Lloyd

She IS too old but she’s still not slowed to a point where you can easily drop her. Having said that, she should be more clinical because she could have had two or three. Still kinda hoping she reaches 300 caps she’ll retire from the national team and give way to others. But it’s Carli, so, who knows. She’d be playing with Charlie, Roux and Sloane if she had her way.

Alex Morgan

Fantastic positioning but the execution still isn’t fully there, but my god it is so close. Sucks that she’ll be judged on the opportunities she missed but that’s the life of a number 9. No doubt she’ll be back to form soon though, and it’ll pay Vlatko to be patient. Don’t think the rotation of the squad is doing her any favours and it’d probably help her to have consistent players either side of her, which may come at the Olympics.

What do you think? Agree or disagree?

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dreamingabouttaron · 3 years

Text

Taron Egerton One Shot

Hello one and all, I hope everyone is safe and well.

I received 2 requests that were very similar so I decided to put them together, I hope that is okay.

Please send more requests my way.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were tightly curled up on Taron’s side of the bed underneath a fluffy blanket, despite the fact that it was already way past noon. Earlier that morning, you’d tried standing up, intending to get up and ready for the day ahead; only to find yourself swaying as soon as your feet touched the floor; resulting in you collapsing back down onto the bed from sudden dizziness.

You had spent the last few hours staring at a blank phone screen, watching the time slowly tick away. It was stuffy and hot in your room, but you could barely move. Every muscle in your body ached, every time you swallowed it burnt as if your throat was on fire. You had woken up feeling awfully nauseous. Waves of queasiness had been teasing you for a few days now, lingering in the back of your throat like an itch that wouldn’t go away no matter what you did. A sickening feeling begins to creep back into your mouth; the urge to vomit is present, but not yet imminent.

You sigh wearily to yourself as you wallowed in self-pity. You hated being sick, it sucked. You had so much you needed to do but you knew today was going to be another write off. You pulled the covers tightly around your body and closed your eyes in an attempt to stop the room spinning around you.

You didn’t know how long you had been laying there for, but the sound of the front door opening and closing made your ears prick up. You listened to the jangle the keys made as they’re got placed down onto the counter. You listened to the sound of the footsteps on the stairs getting closer and closer. You opened your eyes just as your husband appeared in the doorway of your bedroom, a small plastic bag in one hand, his brown jacket in the other.

“Hello beautiful,” Taron murmured, his eyes going all soft and concerned as he takes in your current situation — buried under the blanket, half your hair tied up in a messy bun as the other half dangled loosely around your neck and a positively miserable expression painted on your face. Taron walked over to you and carefully sat on the edge of the bed beside you trying to not disturb you too much. He placed his hand on your forehead and felt its warmth. His expression turned to concern, you were burning up. Beads of sweat were present in your hairline and down your neck.

“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly. He hated seeing you like this. He wanted nothing more than to make you feel better.

“I don’t feel too good…” you mumble as you pull the covers off your body as you feel a wave of sickness rushes through your body. You manage to make a bee-line into the ensuite with Taron following closely behind you. You make it into the bathroom just in time.

You felt Taron’s presence beside you, his muffled voice telling you it was okay and that you were safe and that you needed to take deep breaths. You tried to suck one in; it was short and shaky. You took another deep breath, and air shocking your lungs. You did it again and again and again, your head started to clear up a bit. Taron’s voice was a little less muffled and your head stopped spinning for a moment. You were in shock, your entire body was shaking. You hated feeling like this. It was awful. You wanted it all to stop.

You felt tears flood your eyes, as two strong hands wrapped tightly around your body, shushing you and gently stroking your hair. You instantly melted into Taron's arms, you leant your head onto his shoulder, shaking and sobbing and gripping his t-shirt for dear life. Taron continued to whisper into your ear, reassuring you that everything was going to be okay as he rubbed small circles on your back. All throughout the unglamorous ordeal, Taron stayed by your side. He continued to murmur calming and reassuring words into your ear that get drowned out by the unrelenting roar of your pulse. In sickness and in health… You thought.

When the nausea finally ceased, you slumped against the wall beside the toilet, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your forehead on top of them. The deathly dizzying sensation still pulsing behind your temples so you close your eyes and force yourself to take deep breaths, in order to steady yourself. You loved Taron to pieces, but you still didn’t like him seeing you like this. However you were also so incredibly thankful that he was there for you.

You manage to find the strength to pull your head back up as you let out a large sigh. You turned to look at Taron who had a small thin sympathetic smile on his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the small plastic bag Taron had with him. You furrow your brows as you examine the contents inside the bag.

“Taron?” you whisper.

“Yes?” He replies just as quietly.

“What’s this?” you ask, pulling the plastic bag closer to you. You place your hand inside and pick out the contents. A small rectangular box was now sat neatly in your hand. “A pregnancy test?” You question as your eyes still scan the box.

A scarlet flush spreads across Taron’s face, spreading from the roots of his hair, to the tips of his ears and even down his neck. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Um, look, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take one.” he states, gesturing awkwardly to the box in your hand.

You look down at the pregnancy test in your hand in disbelief. To be fair, it wouldn’t be a complete surprise, you and Taron had been a lot lazier with regards to using protection and, now that you think about it, your period might be a little bit late. But then again it wasn’t unusual for you to have irregular cycles.

Taron shifted uncomfortably beside you, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have just assumed. You don’t have too...”

“No, no...” You reply shaking your head, as you start to open the box. “You’re right, there’s no harm in seeing.” You turn to look at Taron, you both pause looking into each others eyes. You had no doubt that no matter what this test said, you would both love and support each other. Sure this wasn’t planned but if you were pregnant, you couldn’t wish to go through it with anyone better.

You break open the seal, then tip out the contents of the box onto your lap; a pee-on-a-stick test and a small instruction leaflet. You skim through, your brows furrowed and your lips caught nervously between your teeth. In your peripheral vision, you can see your husband trying to not let his nerves show. The process seemed simple enough. Pee on the stick, cap it, then wait three minute before reading the result. Standard. You’ve never taken a pregnancy test before, you couldn’t tell if you were feeling excited or petrified.

“I’ll give you a moment,” Taron states as he pushes himself up onto his feet. “I love you,” he breathes, pressing a tender kiss to the middle of your forehead before walking out the bathroom to give you privacy. You giggle as you watch him leave, wondering how on earth you landed yourself this wonderful, caring man. Even in moments like this, when you felt like death, he always brought a smile to your face.

Once he was gone, you pull down your PJ shorts, take an unnecessarily dramatic breath, then sit on the toilet to take a test, whose results could very well change life as you know it. As stated in the instructions, once you’d saturated the tip, you replace the cap, then set it on the bathroom counter. You then washed your hands and head back into the bedroom, where Taron was patiently sat waiting wearing a hopeful expression on his face. His large thighs were spread apart and his elbows were on his knees.

“Now we wait three minutes.” you announce as you walk over to him. Taron’s eyes flash down to the time on his lock screen before sitting up and holding his arms out inviting you in. You smile brightly and perch yourself in his lap. His strong arms encircle you, pulling you close, making you feel safe, instantly making you feel better. You both sat in silence for a moment. You could feel how fast his heart was beating in his chest. You were sure that he could feel yours beating just as fast.

“I’m a little nervous.” he admits his voice low and quiet.

“Me too,” you breathe, your fingers slowly tracing the moles he had on his arms. It was quite possibly the longest three minutes you’ve ever had to wait out. You knew that everyone said that kind of thing when they’re waiting for something as momentous and potentially life-changing as this, but still, it was true. As you sat and waited, pictures of a baby Egerton flashed in your head. You pictured Taron helping your child ride a bike, teaching them how to tie up their shoelaces, reading them bed time stories in silly voices. The thought made your heart burst with pride.

“I think it’s time.” You heard Taron quietly say, breaking you from your thought. You slowly pull yourself out of Taron’s reach. “Are you ready?” you ask, holding a hand out for him to take. He takes it, swallows nervously, then shakes his head. “Is anyone truly ready?”

You both head back into the bathroom, anxiety and excitement filling your bodies. The next few seconds pass by in a surreal blur. One moment you were walking into the bathroom, the next moment you’re staring at the pregnancy test on the counter and seeing two bright lines staring back at you. Your heart stopped. You didn’t know whether to scream or bawl. Torn in its indecision, your body winds up doing neither, choosing to freeze in shock, instead. It’s quite possible that for a few seconds, your lungs stopped working.

“Megs?” Taron muttered almost under his breath, he was just as frozen as you were. “Y..Yes?” you reply, your mouth finally remembering how to make words come out. Your muscles are acting like they’re paralysed, no matter how hard you command them to move, you’re stuck in the same spot.

You turned to look at Taron, his expression was a curious yet beautiful mixture of shock, fear and excitement. He grabbed you gently his hands making their way up to take your face into his hold. He watched your expression, then eagerly pressed his perfect lips on yours. When he pulled away, you could see tears trailing down his cheeks.

His mouth breaks out into a huge grin when his eyes lock onto yours. “You’re pregnant?” he whispers softly, one hand lightly coming to rest on your belly. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice breathless as tears start to roll down your face. “We’re pregnant! We’re going to be parents. You’re gonna be a dad!”

Taron paused, as if the realisation hit him, “I am. Holy shit!” he says. “Holy shit, we’re gonna be parents!” he cries exultantly, picking you up and spinning you around in a circle. You squeal playfully before Taron placed you safely back down on the ground. His hands carefully travelling up and down your body as if he still hasn’t wrapped his head around the idea. You were going to have a baby. You were going to be parents. You were finally going to be a family.

#taron egerton #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fluff #taron egerton fanfic #dad!taron

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clumsy-hood · 3 years

Text

obey me! demon brothers + pet names

prompt: their favorite pet names you call them.

word count: 1,175

a/n: another i had stowing away in my drafts i managed to finish writing and editing. also another i thought of doing for the undateables as well. let me know what you guys think? i require criticism/validation to live. xx

Lucifer:

“darling”

Let’s not beat around the bush here, Lucifer internally melted the first time you called him ‘darling’ and he’s never been the same since. He was a demon who thrived when in control but there was a tenderness to your voice luring him in and never letting go. ‘Darling’ was followed by an ‘I love you’ or an insistence to step away from work and come to bed. It was a name that held so much kindness and love, he couldn’t help but follow whatever you had to say after.

“sir”

Oof, but when you called him ‘Sir’? It would start off in a teasing way whenever he’d ask you to hand him something or assist with some menial task, but you could always notice the flicker of desire and mischief in his gaze. ‘Sir’ was the gateway word, opening a world of possibility in which his thoughts were lustfully clouded of you, your touch, your scent all over him and to his control. And sometimes, sometimes you enjoyed exploiting those feelings.

Mammon:

“babe”

The first time you uttered the word, it was like a torch had been lit inside Mammon—whose cheeks were practically blazing and mumbling how you could call him ‘babe’ against if you wanted. It was simple and loving; casual enough where you could call him it in public, and he’d be so damn giddy because it was as though you were publicly declaring him yours. You needn’t command him because he would follow you around, hand in yours, like the lovesick demon he was.

“baby”

Similar to his other pet name, but ‘baby’ was reserved for the special moments between you. If his brothers had been especially harsh towards him? A warm hug and kiss would do the trick while the pet name tumbled from your lips. Maybe he had a nightmare? Same conditions apply. Between sneaky kisses at night? You’re damn right. ‘Baby’ was spoken with every ounce of love you had in your chest for him, and he damn well knew it.

Levi:

“captain”

It was definitely a nickname you hadn’t expected him to enjoy—in fact, it was conceived during a standard gaming session for Devil Kart!Game On. All he had done was suggest some tips to take out Solomon so you’d rank in the top three with him when you’d uttered an, “Aye aye, Captain!” And, well, the poor demon froze. What did you expect? After some time would pass, it was almost as though he thrived under pressure more so once you’d called him by his pet name.

“(my) prince”

Aside from the one you tease him with during gaming sessions, calling him your ‘prince’ was something warm and playful that evolved from numerous nickname tests until you’d found the one that left him the reddest. It was wholesome and sweet, always mentioned whenever he’d offer you any bit of affection. And the moments you called him ‘my prince’ left him warm and gooey inside because it meant he was yours.

Satan:

“(my) love”

He’s a romantic at heart, but the first time you called him ‘my love’ would have been at some small moment where it wouldn’t have registered at first and left him a blushing mess once he realize it. There was something so heartwarming to him—the Avatar of Wrath—being the object of one’s love and affection. Satan was worried his rage would leave him lonely and yet you, a human, found it in your heart to call him ‘love’ and mean it with every fiber of your being.

“dear”

A bit more passive-aggressive than the other at times, ‘dear’ was used to capture his attention and keep the frustrations directed at his brothers at bay. That and there was almost a domestic touch that came with the pet name; he had no idea why you had such a strong effect on him with such a simple word, but it was almost as though it had become a leash for his anger and a reminder that with you buy his side, he was a lot less lonely.

Asmo:

“honey”

Something sweet for a demon so sugary sweet. Asmo loves any and all pet names you could possibly throw his way, but he found comfort in the name given by romantic love reciprocated. The Avatar of Lust is no stranger to admirers so having a partner call him something so sweet and domestic left a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest he had never felt before. ‘Honey’ was something save solely for him, and he absolutely love it.

“lovely”

A anime save for those tender moments, ‘lovely’ spoken was akin to your heart’s love letter for him every time it left your lips. Whispered between stolen kisses in the night as you lie together, limbs tangled and war, or as consolement whenever he’s concerned about his beauty and the love offered to him. For a demon so sure of the love for his appearance, he finds solace in your name whenever you’re regarding your ‘lovely’s’ heart.

Beel:

“handsome”

Beel was never sure why he felt so warm—and well, full—after you called him ‘handsome’ but that smile never left his face for the rest of the day. He was never one to obsess over his appearance—or pay it much attention, really—but there was something oddly comforting in how you said it and reeled him in better than the promise of food could. Okay, that may be a stretch, but he knew whenever you said it, playfully or serious, that you were entirely genuine.

“big guy”

Another teasing pet name that he can completely get behind; after all, no matter how tall you may be, you can guarantee this demon will tower over you. After his Fangol games, during meals, between classes, or whenever he was getting a little drowsy on your shoulder, nothing quite warmed him like when you’d call him ‘big guy’. His brothers never understood it, why he enjoyed something so simple, but he’d follow you like a lost puppy just to hear it again.

Belphie:

“boobear”

It was a nickname he’d never dar admit aloud to loving, but you knew from the first moment he blushed that Belphie was an absolute suck for it. Reserved only for your moments alone, you’d often tease him with the occasional ‘boobear’ during cuddles and makeout sessions just to watch him squirm. He’d always get a little pouty with you and deny enjoying it, but damn, he knew you had him hook, line and sinker.

“sweetheart”

One that surprised even you, but it was almost like a siren’s call to him: If you called him ‘sweetheart’, then he was likely to follow your lead. Seriously, you had no idea something you’d tease him with would hold such power over him, but honestly, much like his brothers, he enjoyed the domesticity in the name. It wasn’t as though you were staking a claim to him or openly calling him yours, but it was soft and tender and came from a place of love you both shared.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me! shall we date?#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me imagine #obey me blurb #obey me drabble #clumsy-hood #my writing #commissions open

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

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Dems want to give $600b to the one percent

Remember when a group of establishment Congressional Democrats vowed that they would add means-testing to the emergency relief checks so that "the money wouldn't go to people who didn't need it?"

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2021/02/03/biden-stimulus-checks-what-you-need-to-know/

The argument that federal relief should target the 99% and not the 1% is a familiar - and defensible - one. The Trump #taxscam handed trillions to the richest Americans, triggering stock buybacks:

https://www.cnn.com/2019/01/23/business/investment-boom-tax-cuts-economy/index.html

and a superyacht bubble:

https://www.propublica.org/article/superyacht-marina-west-palm-beach-opportunity-zone-trump-tax-break-to-help-the-poor-went-to-a-rich-gop-donor

But it delivered no meaningful benefit to everyday Americans.

Now, that said, there *was* one area of the Trump tax bill that targeted the wealthy: the State and Local Tax (SALT) Cap, which capped SALT deductions at $10,000.

That meant that taxpayers could only write off the first $10k of their state and local tax. In practice, this affected very wealthy Americans, predominantly those living in large, high-property-value cities, which has substantial overlap with rich Democratic donors.

That's the only reason for Trump's SALT Cap, and it's a stupid and spiteful reason: passing a tax that targets the wealthy because of partisanship is bad.

But taxing the wealthy is, in fact, good. Trump set out to do something bad and did something good, in other words.

Now, a group of Dems - many of the same Dems who held up the stimulus because they didn't want to send $1600 to the underserving wealthy - are holding the $2t infrastructure plan hostage and demanding that the SALT Cap be repealed.

And while they claim a SALT Cap repeal would benefit the middle class, it disproportionately and vastly benefits the ultra-rich: 86% of the benefit of the repeal would go to the top 5% of US earners.

https://itep.org/salt-cap-repeal-has-no-place-in-covid-19-legislation-national-and-state-by-state-data/

Under a SALT Cap repeal, households earning more than $1m/year getting $48k in extra cash:

Meanwhile, 98% of middle-class households with incomes of $50-75k would get *nothing*. The 2% who got something would average *$250*.

https://www.taxpolicycenter.org/taxvox/salt-cap-repeal-would-overwhelmingly-benefit-high-income-households

Lifting the SALT Cap is a powerfully regressive move. It is *three times more regressive* than the Trump tax plan - that is 300% more tilted in favor of the wealthy.

https://www.brookings.edu/blog/up-front/2020/09/04/the-salt-tax-deduction-is-a-handout-to-the-rich-it-should-be-eliminated-not-expanded/

Lifting the SALT Cap has nothing to do with the middle class. For starters, the SALT deduction only applies to people who itemize expenses, rather than taking the standard deduction. 92% of the top 1% of earners do that (it's only 5% of the 40th-60th earning percentile).

It's possible that there are people in especially expensive cities in "blue states" for whom the SALT Cap is a burden - people at the lowest threshold of beneficiaries of a repeal who really are financially stretched.

If that's our concern, there's an easy, non-regressive fix - *raise*, but don't repeal, the cap. If $10k is too low, make it $15k, or even $20k. But by making the cap unlimited, we ensure that the wildly disproportionate beneficiaries of the change are the ultra-*ultra* rich.

As David Sirota points out, this maneuver - claiming that a tax-break for the super-rich is really about the middle class - comes straight out of the GOP playbook. It's how Republicans sold cuts to the estate tax:

https://www.dailyposter.com/p/dems-somehow-pretend-this-mostly

That move - like the ones Dems are making now - made it much easier for the ultra-wealthy to make vast, tax-advantaged intergenerational wealth transfers, creating the rentier dynasties that now crouch on the political system's chest, sucking up all the oxygen.

Just to be clear: "there is no state where this is a primarily middle-class issue."

https://itep.org/dems-dont-repeal-the-salt-cap-do-this-instead/

The cuts will transfer $600b, primarily to the highest earners, over the next 9 years:

https://www.taxpolicycenter.org/model-estimates/repeal-10000-state-and-local-tax-salt-deduction-limitation-sep-2018/repeal-10000

That's $600b worth of giveaways to the rich from the party that couldn't muster the political will to include a $15 minimum wage and that fretted endlessly about whether the $1400 stimulus (down from $2000) might go to someone in the middle class.

And while the "SALT Caucus" of Dems who are holding the infrastructure bill hostage to the super rich are a rogues' gallery of establishment, corporate Dems from high-tax states (Chuck Schumer, Nancy Pelosi, etc), the roster includes some otherwise progressive heroes.

Progressive Californian lawmakers like Ro Khanna and Katie Porter have both called on Biden to lift the cap entirely (though they've stopped short of promising to hold up the infrastructure bill), as have NY Democratic "insurgents" like Jamaal Bowman and Mondaire Jones.

Some progressives, though, have kept the faith. Even as the entire NY Democratic caucus signed a letter calling for a SALT Cap repeal, AOC and Kathleen Rice refused.

https://www.salon.com/2021/04/28/key-democrats-want-to-keep-most-of-trumps-corporate-tax-cut--and-slash-more-taxes-for-the-rich/

Trump's tax cuts supercharged inequality and created a destructive, speculative finance-bubble by handing permanent tax gifts to the people who needed them the least. A full repeal of the SALT Cap is even more plute-friendly than Trump's plan.

The fact that Trump passed a SALT Cap out of spite is irrelevant. America's inequality crisis demands an end to regressive measures, including the special treatment of capital gains and carried interest, which gives tax advantages to speculators and punishes wage-earners.

Democrats will not win elections or change our political conversation with business-as-usual handouts to the super-rich in the hopes of winning campaign contributions. They have the money, we have the people.

Dems cannot win by being the party of the wealthy. The Republicans have that one on lock.

Image: Andrey Korchagin (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/peer_gynt/34760026411

CC BY-SA: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

#pluralistic

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nico-twix · 3 years

Text

the prisoner of my enemy is my prisoner

Hey guys, sorry if this ain't your thing, but in honour of star wars day, I decided to post a little blurb of a fanfic I've been writing!

Kylo Ren x Reader

Words: 1.5K

Tags: second-person "You", no (y/n), force choking, mind invasion, blasters, mechanic reader, a poor attempt at humour, slow burn

When the First Order raid a Resistance Base, the last thing they expect is to imprison their prisoners, but as will become common, Commander Ren makes an exception for you.

May the Fourth be with You!

“Wake up, prisoner.” Cool blaster metal digs into your arm as you are gracefully awoken.

You would be lying if you said this was the first time you have been captured, but this has been by far the worst treatment.

You’re not quite sitting or standing, and as far as you can feel—because you certainly can’t move your head to look down— you are bolted to this “seat” of kings. What you can see: grey wall, white trooper, and emo creep in the corner.

They excuse the trooper and stand in front of you. Their black helmet softly reflects a red light that is outside your vision.

“You were a prisoner of the Resistance.” Their, his, voice is modulated, but you can still pick up his annoyance. Short. Clipped.

“I’m well aware of that, bud.”

His mask diffuses what you could only guess to be a growl into static. Scary man did not like that answer. “You are now a prisoner of the First Order.”

Ah fuck. If it were possible, you would have stiffened in your binds. You have heard of the First Order—everyone has. But you knew them as the largest arms purchaser in the galaxy and had no clue who, what, or why they are how they are.

He steps even closer to you; his helmet is obscuring all of the grey walls in your vision. “The resistance wanted you enough to keep you alive. Why?”

Barely alive. Their prisoner for 100 days and all I got as food were some dry-ass crackers. “Look, bud, if I knew I would tell you.” You attempt to shrug your shoulders, but all it does is bring a dull ache.

“No, not bud.” This close, the helmet voice sounds scarier, deeper, more alive. The hairs on your arm start to tingle like they are static.

“Not bud, read you loud and clear, pal.” As soon as the word leaves your mouth, he’s got his hand around your neck.

“If I didn’t need you alive to invade your mind, I would have killed you by now.” He places a finger on your forehead as he tightens his hold further and your eyes roll back into your head. Your brain feels like it’s getting pushed out of your nose and chopped open like a Koja nut simultaneously. Your lungs burn and you are powerless to stop him. If only I had a choking kink to make this somewhat enjoyable.

Images of your life flash past, leaving you little time to process what’s going on. Finally, you see your time with the Resistance. All 100 days, although each was the same. Your guard telling you to build it. You don’t know how. You don’t even know what it’s for. The visions stop. He seems to find what he is looking for at that moment as he lets you go. You’re inhaling air faster than a vacuum cleaner as blood rushes throughout your body, black dots dancing in your vision, pounding headache wrecking your brain.

He calls the stormtrooper back in. “You can move her to a lower security cell,” he turns to look at you, “she really does know nothing. Resistance Scum.” Even against the modulation, you can hear his leering sneer. What an ass.

The trooper releases your head bindings and you can only see your interro(r)gator’s backside. What an ass.

The new cell is much better in that you have full motor control, but the good things stop there. They sure went over budget on decorating. The whole thing is painted in the same soul-sucking grey colour as before and there wasn’t even a window. I thought I booked a room with a view. All that was in there with you was a mat for sleeping and an air vent on the floor that was pumping in only what you could assume was unfiltered space vacuum it was so cold. Maker, I know I complained about the Resistance prison, but this is bad.

If you had to stay in this cell for another day, you were going to commit homicide. This leaves two options: either one, escape, or two, hope that the next trooper that walks in here has a nicely written will. One seems easier. How hard could escaping be?

Apparently very hard. You have been going at this for hours. But try as you may, your arms will never magically extend far enough through the cell bars to grab the keys off of the guard. Which leaves the vent. Vents are nice, but not the safest thing in the world. For all you know, this could lead you out into space or through fan blades or to the trash receptacle. But fuck it, Maker damn you if ever saw your “pal” again.

The vent luckily had no screws, and with just a light tug, the door flipped open unveiling a straight shot down. How far down? Who knows, not you! So, with one last look at the guard, you slid to your freedom.

You couldn’t have been sliding for more than twenty feet when you collided with more metal venting. You landed as lightly as an elephant and your ankles burned with shooting pain. You got to down to your hands and knees to falter through the next set of passageways, eclipsed in darkness and dust. Every so often, you would come across another vent opening and you would peak to observe where you were. You have passed by three trooper quarters and figured you were in their wing of the ship. Meaning that their armoury should be nearby. The plan from here on out should be simple.

Step 1: Get to the armoury

It took what seemed to be two hours to finally find the armoury and it certainly didn’t help that you got lost. Twice. You wondered how long you still have before your “pal” realizes you’ve escaped. Based on prior experience, prisoners generally get checked on every six hours, so you should still be safe. You pop open the vent door below you and fall on your ass into the armoury.

Step 2: Steal some of that zesty trooper armour.

The armoury in the dark was creepy. Every couple of steps, you would feel a solid limb of their armour smack against your legs or shoulders. Your hair even got caught in one of their belts. None of them seemed to be in your size. What am I, in the Men’s section? You duck behind a container of spare helmets as you hear the familiar schwoop of blast doors.

“Poor bastard didn’t deserve that though.” Various clicks and hisses went through the air as two troopers stripped off their armour.

“None of us do. He’s lucky he only broke his leg, gets a free trip to the med bay.” The light streaming in from the open door allowed you to see them discard their armour pieces under a “repairs” sign.

“He better not take the last blue lollipop; I’ve been eyeing it.” They both chuckled at that, grabbed new armour, and left.

You let out the breath you were holding in. You weren’t spotted, everything will be okay. You try to remember the layout from earlier and make your way over to where the broken armour was dumped. One of the troopers looked your size, so you borrow it and hope they won’t miss it terribly.

Step 3: Find their weapons stash. Walk around like a headless chicken looking for their weapons stash.

Every good escape needs good weapons. And this will be a damn good escape. It would be if you could find the weapons. I feel like I’ve seen that door before. You probably have. You’re just following the gaggle of troopers in front of you, hoping this won’t look suspicious. It definitely did. If the clocks on the walls were anything to go by, it has been around 4 hours since you escaped, meaning that you have been lost on this ship for at least an hour and a half. 1000 rooms on the Starkiller base, 1000 rooms on Starkiller. Enter one, I am so done, 999 rooms on the Starkiller base. Your slightly too large armour makes awful clicks and you pray to Maker that your hell would end soon. And then, almost as if Maker heard your pleas, you found the room you were looking for.

Step 4: Escape!

The weapons room was more like a weapons sanctuary. All along the walls, beautiful blasters polished to perfection, and yet they had some of the worst specs you’ve ever seen. This is outrageous! They expect me to escape with a blaster pistol? It’s not even modded.

What used to look divine, now just looks pathetic. You huff, having taken offence at their poor supply, and “borrow” a couple of weapons from the shelves, a repeater here, a stun baton there, and a trusty set of standard-issue repair tools. With precision unmatched by even the finest droids, you get to work, soldering and welding, stripping and joining, and hoping and praying that what you have only tested out in dreams would work.

And you might have been able to test it, had the blast doors stayed shut.

Step 4b: do not get caught. It’s a little late for that

“Trooper, report.”

Please let me know what you think and if there are any mistakes! This blurb is available on AO3 if you want to subscribe for more updates!

#kylo x you #kylo ren #ben solo #drabble #prison break #force choke #star wars #sequel trilogy #may the fourth be with you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #slow burn #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers

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