#without there being waste and while covering some of the costs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

formereldestdaughter · 1 month

Note

ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

#peeta mellark #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games meta #anyway wow this got so long and I literally read it through one (1) time so uhhh sorry if this makes no sense!!#as I was doing my one read through and realized that one of my other thoughts on this is that yeah I can much more easily see the #headcanon that peeta like sells baked goods (probably at cost with no profit) out of his kitchen because that’s much more flexible #and I think that would work a lot better with what like I guess I’d call his psychiatric disability post mockingjay #and how he’d certainly want to take care of Katniss too #like that sort of flexibility makes a lot more sense for him and it’s like. if he doesn’t bake for a few days or however long then it’s fin #it’s not a formal brick and mortar business #it’s just something he’s doing because it’s a way to be involved with people and a way to do something he’s passionate about #without there being waste and while covering some of the costs #and he doesn’t have to like keep books or do payroll or any of the things I can’t see him being very passionate about #as far as like bakery management goes Lmao he can just bake!!#but then I started getting into this whole thing about how that quote-unquote ‘running a business’ like that (informally from your house)#is actually a really common practice for people living in poverty so probably something that Katniss and peeta would’ve been familiar wirh #anyway and then this whole rant about how the emphasis on the brick and mortar bakery often goes hand in hand with #this widespread fandom thing of having a fundamental misunderstanding of how rural poverty works and what it looks like #but then I was too deep into it and said you know what? never mind! and deleted it lmao

74 notes · View notes

cuprohastes · 1 year

Text

The WTF cycle of War with Humans

Most species that get to the point of being part of galactic society as are pretty chill. There's enough room on one planet to colonise for decades even if other species are doing the same. And everone's done the numbers and the cost of even a small skirmish is just not worth the gains.

But there's always someone who just needs to prove they're interstellar bad-asses or want to see what the new guys are up to.

And every so often they pick on the Humans.

When this happens the other species kick back, get some popcorn and start fuelling up the equivalent of Humanitarian Aid for afterwards.

And as for whichever belligerant species tried it this time... They all have the same Analysis: What the actual F-

Stage 1

Having beaten some colonists, razed a couple of more or less unarmed settlements and rofflestomped some farmboys, everyone is feeling pretty good about how these reputed Hellworlders aren't all that.

Sure some of them were an absolute terror but hey we got armour and theyu ain't. Job done, mission accomplished and... WTF was that?

Something huge jumps in system and out, leaving a couple of massive ships, which are travelling way too fast. WTF?

Stage 2

There is some half assed excuse for a spacecraft that just slammed into the atmosphere at around the speed of LOL. These guys are easy pickings. They just destroyed their own... what. Bomber? Troop carrier? WTF is wrong with these idiots? We'll be wiping our cloacas on their homeworld's treasures by the end of the year, yo.

Those ships... massive, big, wasteful and doomed. They're so big you can see them, glowing, making a streak across the sky... in fact... uh... wait, is that thing turning? It's definitely coming this way. And... shouldn't there be bits coming off at this point? WTF?

Stage 3

Now stuff is coming out. But it's coming out in order. Big chonky machinery, followed by... oh is that Humans?! You almost feel sorry for them. Their ship is doomed and they're throwing themselves out. Your superior lens based optics can see they're just... wrapped in cloth, falling. Did they get sucked out while sleeping? WTF?

Then the big ship opens up front ports and makes a sound like every angry soul that was ever condemned to the pits of the afterlife and all of a sudden this thing is flying?

WTF?!

It rips past overhead trailing a sonic shockwave and bombing the shit out of your landing craft, spiralling at twice the speed of sound while laying down some stupendous amount of white hot ballistic mayhem like you couldn't even imagine. And you're looking at it and you still cannot figure out what you're looking at.

Then a human zips past. WTF?!

They jsut spread their stupid arms and legs and they have a fucking curtain or something tied on and... they can fly?!

Then they're stopping, mid air using some sort of... what is that, sheets? They can do that? WTF?

Stage 4

Now you know what the Hellworlders are really like. They came in their own armour with this stupid blocky pattern that made it hard for you to figure what you were looking at, with guns and knives. They shot through the barricades and walls you hide behind.

They were covered in explosive shrapnel shells and they just did this thing where they twisted and those stupid arms suddenly became launchers, and those little orbs came sailing past and then turned your best soldiers into gooey lumps.

You saw the biggest guy in the unit leap out and this one dumb Human just flipped them over and... You wish you could unsee that. You wish with all your soul you could. WTF? Who does that? Even in a war?

Stage 5

Nobody waited for Command to issue an order to surrender. The Humans? You can kill them, but they'll get you and everyone around you. One of them just turned a command vehicle into a doughnut lined with the burning residue of everyone inside.

Then their tanks showed. They don't float. They roar. They claw along with terrifying speed. They go through your defenses without stopping and there's his big artillery piece on top that's turning your fortifications into a historical rumour. They're just... soaking up. All the punishment you can give. WTF?

Clearly you can die in the blood soaked mud or you can surrender. If Command wants to keep fighting they can come down here.

Stage 6

You threw down your weapons and they just... fed you. There's a cot, a blanket, three meals a day for some reason. Three. WTF? The injured are being patched up, nobody is being tortured and after a few months you even get a package and mail form your Szuch. You're even allowed to send them a message back saying that you're OK.

There's even members of the other Starfaring species showing up to check that the pretty nice barracks is... well. Pretty nice WTF? These guys rode a meteor in then threw themselves at you from a mile up and hand-slaughtered the best your military can train... just to have something to do while their giant, air splitting and ground shaking war machines showed up.

And now they're worried you aren't getting enough sleep or food.

Then they send you home and people see your uniform and ask... How did we lose? Are the humans really that bad? I mean come on, that's just propaganda, right? We're going back to show them who's boss... right?

And all you can do. Is stare and think... WTF?

#HASO #Humans are space Orcs #Humans are Hellworlders

769 notes · View notes

gyllenhaalstories · 8 days

Text

WE'RE NOT COWBOYS — DANNY SHARP

summary: danny likes his banks robberies short and sweet. he avoids collateral damage at all costs... most of the time.

warnings: reader is gender neutral! bank robbery, weapons, injury, blood, some sort of comfort/fluff mix? your guess is as good as mine. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2515

gif credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i watched ambulance again and i could not resist writing whatever this is. 💵 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Why is it taking so fucking long?" A man shouted from God knew where. "Where's Mel? Has anybody seen Mel Gibson?" More men answered 'no sir' in sync.

You sobbed, the pain stung so bad that even crying hurt. You were stuck in a cycle. The more you cried, the more it hurt and the more it made you want to cry.

A tall, bearded man stared down at you. He rubbed his knuckles, soothing the pain he caused himself by punching you in the face. You had taken him by surprise, squealing of fear while he hurried out of the vault with the last of the money and valued goods he stole. He took a better hold of his rifle, he tried to assess if your life was worth wasting a bullet on.

"I swear to God, I'm gonna kill that guy!" The first person spoke again and marked a pause before continuing, he chuckled while he specified his wish. "I won't! Okay? I won't. Not until today's precious cargo is safe and sound."

Nope, you were not worth it. He abandoned you by the bank tellers' desks, shaking like a palm tree in a storm.

"There you fucking are! Thought you got lost, that's not very Braveheart of you." You heard some mumbling you assumed came from the man who punched you. He received more reprimands and threats in exchange for his tardiness. "Do I have to tie you to one of those kiddy leashes so you don't run away? I saw some parents walk their child with that shit last week. Los Angeles, man... It'll drive you crazy!"

You heard instructions being given, the men were wrapping up and leaving the building. All men except for the one who's footsteps echoed louder and louder. You covered your mouth with your free hand, trying to be as quiet as you possibly could in this moment. You closed your eyes too, maybe if you could not see him then he would not see you. Wrong.

"Hi."

You ignored him, rocking yourself back and forth until another wave of pain made you wail.

"Hey, hey, hey. Listen to me. You're okay, you're fine."

You made the mistake of looking up and locked eyes with this man dressed in fancy attire. He looked like a manager with his tailored suit and dress pants, he even got a shiny name tag to go with it. You failed to read what the tag said.

"My name's Daniel," he offered you a smile you could barely decipher with your vision, blurry from the tears. "Everyone calls me Danny."

You did not budge, bloodshot eyes staring at his foggy figure.

"You're hurt." He noticed a drop or two of blood on your brow bone. "Who hurt you? Was it Mel Gibson?"

You nodded frantically, but stopped. It hurt too much.

"That fucker." He said under his breath, but covered it up with another disingenuous smile. "You stay there, okay? I'll be right back. Don't move."

He ordered you to stay immobile and you listened. Where would you go anyway? Maybe he had an army of Mel Gibsons out there. All you knew was that they swarmed in the bank, you froze in place and, because of your reaction (or lack thereof), you failed to follow the other workers and visitors when they were bunched up in a corner of the facility.

Danny speed-walked his way back to where he came from, instructing his men to leave without him. He'd be fine, there was just a small inconvenience he had to deal with.

The next thing you heard was his familiar footsteps hurrying back to you.

"Good job! You listened." His tone was somewhere in the middle of patronizing and comforting, but at this very moment you preferred to cling to his words and to do as he said. "I'll take a look, okay? Let me look at you." He crouched down.

You pulled your hand slowly away from the left side of your face, where you were punched. You flinched when Danny approached you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. And I'm gonna make sure the guy who did this..." He looked at your wound then back into your eyes. "Pays for it. Got it?"

You nodded, slower this time than before. You figured out what he meant by that and the thought was sinister.

"Oh, poor little thing." He grinned, his facial expression softening when he assessed the gravity of your state. "It's just a black eye. You'll be fine."

You were starting to wonder what being fine meant to him.

"It won't hurt for long, trust me. I've gotten my fair share of those. I'm a little bit of a troublemaker." He winked at you and giggled.

The adrenaline rush started to drop, leaving you shivering.

Danny quickly noticed. He kept an eye on you, noticing how much you flinched and tensed up when he moved, while he took off his jacket and the black cashmere sweater he wore underneath. "Can ya feel that? It's soft. It's cashmere. I love cashmere." He draped the sweater over your body, hoping that it would stop you from shaking like a leaf. "I'll get you something for the pain."

Your mind began an epic race. If this guy was anything like the villains you saw in movies, he'd probably drug you or kill you the second he earned your trust. Oh God. He was earning it already! You were doomed, this was how it ended for you... Sitting on the dusty floor of the bank and being sweet talked towards your demise.

While your mind spiralled endlessly, Danny had searched the place around. He located a vending machine, probably destined for employees for their lunch break. Now, all he needed was a handful of coins. Lucky him, banks were full of coins. He scavenged through messy desks and even messier drawers until he found what he wanted. He headed towards the machine and, while waiting to select his desired item, he made a quick phone call to Castro.

"Mister Sharp, I can't do this right now! No, I'm not watching the soccer game. I'm just busy, the guys are arriving! What am I supposed to do? Okay, got it. I'll go! I'm coming! Yeah, I'll get a car! I'm running! Are you good? You seem stressed again. Stress is bad. I heard tea helped, have you tried to drink tea? Wait, how am I gonna make it back here? Mister Sharp? Do you need flamingos this time?"

You caught no word of that, despite how his employee was shouting through the phone, too busy listening to your own thoughts. Only Danny's silhouette walking towards you pulled you out of this misery.

He pressed a cold can of soda on the corner of your eye. "It will soothe the pain and you won't swell as much. First time getting punched, huh?" You shrugged, he took that as a yes. "I remember my first time... It was with my brother."

You frowned, the phrasing could not have been worse.

"No!" He yelled, clearing everything up. "I mean the first punch. He punched me. We were playing cowboys and he just popped one right in my face. He said it was an accident. I believe him. He became a Marine, maybe that moment inspired him."

You were not in the right state, both physical and psychological, to unpack what you just heard. Instead, you focused on the cold aluminum of the can and how it numbed the stinging pain.

"There's gonna be a car waiting for us soon. I'll take you back home? You can take something for the pain, lay down and sleep it off. It will turn different colours while it heals, but you'll look as pretty as ever in no time."

You swallowed the lump in your throat that was telling you to not trust him. He was a stranger. A dangerous stranger, at that. Your gut feeling rang all sorts of alarms, but still... You wanted to believe him.

"If anyone asks, you can tell them you were clumsy. Hit yourself while opening the cupboards. They'll buy it, people are so gullible."

The flag could not have been more red than that.

Speaking of red, there was a red reflection coming from the windows.

"There he fucking is, took him long enough." Danny sighed with a roll of his eyes. His demeanour changed radically when he aimed his attention back to you. "Think you can stand up? Here, let me help you." He offered you strong hands to pull you up.

Your legs were shaky, your knees barely held you up on your feet but you managed.

"I gotcha." Danny wrapped a solid arm around your waist, silently encouraging you to lean on him while he guided you towards the exit.

You held the soda can tightly, subconsciously preparing yourself to use it as a weapon if needed.

Danny's employee, Castro, held the door open for you. He drowned the both of you in a river of excuses before his boss could even speak a word. "T'was the only set of keys I found, sir! I made it as fast as I can like you told me to! I always listen so well, maybe not about the flamingos though... But you know, maybe one day you'll think of paying me more. I'm kinda like the employee of the month."

"Employees of the month wouldn't forget the first fucking rule! What is it Castro? We don't touch these cars." The two men repeated this last sentence together like a parent lecturing his child.

You looked around. Your gut was telling you to run while they were arguing, to run and save your life.

Danny's grip tightened around your waist, as if he guessed what went through your mind. He discarded of Castro, sending him off to God knew where again. He opened the door of the luxury car for you.

You sat down, let him buckle your seat belt. It oddly felt like you were a hostage he tied up to prevent you from running away. Perhaps because that was exactly what you were.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Where do you live? I'm taking you for a ride. How romantic!"

*~*~*

Danny sang along, badly if you dared to admit it, to the songs on the radio while he drove you back to your place. He parked the car and walked around to the passenger side. He most definitely overcompensated his insanity with chivalry.

You got out of the car and sighed of relief. He was right, people were gullible and you were the best example of it. "Hey, Danny." You handed him his sweater. "Thank you."

"You can keep it. As a souvenir." You sure would remember this terrifying day and you did not need an expensive cashmere sweater to remind you of it.

The two of you walked until you reached the front door. "Can you promise me something?" Danny hooked a finger under your chin and made you look in his direction. "You can keep a secret, can you?"

You nodded.

"Good. You seem like a trustworthy person."

You smiled faintly.

"Got a beautiful smile too." This hint of praise was not manipulative, well not intentionally. "Listen. We're not cowboys. Well... I'm not. I'm not a cowboy. I do things right. Nobody else got hurt today, you know? You shouldn't have gotten hurt." Danny brushed his finger gently over the bruise. "But you gotta promise me to keep this between you and I."

He felt you tense up, a breath getting caught in your throat.

"You have to. I know you can. I told you how to cover it up." It referring to the black eye, to the context and reason behind it, to this day that was taken straight out of some of your worst nightmares. "This is a day just like any other day for you."

You opened your mouth to disagree. All you wanted was to take some money out of your bank account and go about your day. You did not even get to do any of that and you got a nasty bruise as a bonus.

"By keeping this a secret, you're saving a life." He nodded slowly with a grin on his thin lips. "Yours." His eyes darkened and his smile faded. "We're not cowboys," he repeated. "I only wanted the money and I got it." He shrugged it off like it was nothing. "You don't want to become collateral damage, do you?"

You hoped there would be no other day like today.

"And you won't." He swayed between threatening you one second and, on the next, he was reassuring you. "As long as you promise me." Danny's hands, that were resting on your shoulders, dragged down your arms.

He held your hands in his, it stopped you from shaking. What was it about this man that felt so soothing? You had heard him scream at his legion of bad guys. Yet, with you, he was rather calm and composed. Almost caring.

"We got a deal? Ah, fuck, wait." He rolled his eyes, faking to have forgotten something. His other hand disappeared behind his back and, for one second yet again, you regretted not having trusted your gut feeling. You stared at a stack of cash, fresh out of the bank that he robbed not that long ago, that he pulled out from under the back of his belt. "Now. Do we have a deal?" He presented his pinkie finger to you, waiting for you to seal this promise.

You glanced at the money, then at his face. You were met with eyes as blue as the sky behind him. You locked your finger with his and took the money with you. "Deal."

He started to walk away, turning his back at you. You were left with an immense promise to keep, enough money to take your mind off it for a while... And a cashmere sweater that smelled of his cologne. "Danny!" You called out his name.

He turned to face you, too quickly to have time to put on a fake smile. Danny started to second guess if this whole thing... If you were a good idea. But you cut him short.

"Will I see you around?"

The smile that started to spread from ear to ear was anything but fake. "Fuck yeah, you will. On TV. they'll be talking about it on the news. Impressive, huh? I never get tired of that shit." He took a deep breath, his chest swollen with pride. It took him a moment to register the intention behind your question. He arched his brow, amused. "Oh, you want more of this?" He gestured towards himself.

You agreed to meet again.

He told you he'd pick you up in this same car, so you knew what to expect. It was fine when Danny broke the rules. He could break all the rules he wanted. He was not a cowboy, but he sure was an outlaw.

#jake gyllenhaal #danny sharp #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal imagine #danny sharp imagine #danny sharp fanfic

51 notes · View notes

b000mbayah · 1 year

Note

yandere aespa reaction to you confessing to them?👁👁

Sure thing anon :)

✎𝚈𝚘𝚞?﹏﹏﹏﹏𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎?﹏﹏﹏﹏𝙼𝚎?﹏﹏﹏﹏

Requested: Yes

Word count: 4,309

Warnings: None?

✎𝚈𝚘𝚞?﹏﹏﹏﹏𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎?﹏﹏﹏﹏𝙼𝚎?﹏﹏﹏﹏

Karina

Karina has spent the last eight months contemplating your relationship status. Sure, you are far closer than she could have ever comprehended the first time she saw you- but now that all just seems like some distant dream she has already surpassed. She very clearly remembers how beautiful you looked the first time you met as friends, how kind you were to her- all of these only fueled the fire she had already started for herself and eventually, that small fire on the tip of her match stick had grown into a full on bonfire. That day she'll treasure forever, like a sacred secret.

But now, seeing you standing at her front door through the small peep hole, she's more confused than ever- despite the overwhelming feeling of lush swirling around inside of her like a whirlpool. Without hesitation, she unlocked her front door, reeling the slab back from the frame to reveal a very bashful you. You shifted uncomfortably, shifting from one leg to the other with your hands held out in front of you. If Karina didn’t know you- and she thanks the lords that she does every day- then she would’ve guessed you were some shy girl scout… just without the uniform.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” She inquired, feeling somewhat conflicted by your sudden appearance. Your mouth only opened and closed though, resembling that of a fish. You looked lost, confused, but most concerning of all, you looked troubled.

"Come in, please" Stepping aside, she opened the door further. When you walked past her, she could basically feel the uncertainty radiating from you like a batch of heavy nuclear waste. To this, she frowned, following after you with many thoughts racing through her mind.

Once you both found a comfortable seat in her living room, she'd smile lightly as you only breathed in a sequence to calm yourself down.

"We need to talk"

Karina had almost instantly gulped, feeling a thick lump form in her throat at the sound of your roughed voice. It felt heavy, yet light, much like a buoy that just sat stationary within her tightening throat. She'd eye you carefully, noticing the poorly covered bags under your eyes and the small shake of your hands. Have you not slept?

"What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept, no offence"

Then it was your turn to pause as you looked down into your lap, bouncing your knee nervously. "That's because I haven't," you dryly admitted as Karina had cautiously moved closer, scooting over to your side. Her eyes felt heavy upon your skin, dangerous almost, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. "I've been thinking about someone… someone really close to me and I think I've come to the realisation that I- that I like them...?"

Karina leaned back lightly, feeling her world shatter in more ways than one. Her heart had plummeted into a pit of self-pity and jealousy while her brain worked hard at your words. You like someone? She's not an idiot, you could've said love. Or are you uncertain? Is there still that small slither of hope for her? She'll make the cut, she'll just have to expand the horizon no matter the cost if it means being with you.

"You like them?" Karina repeated half your words, throat still tight like a squeezed towel. You only sheepishly nodded though, eyes fixated on her and her reaction, and what you got was far from what you expected. You expected a little support for your love life, for her to seem genuinely happy about your choice, but how could you see that when you hadn't told her who "they" were.

"Yeah, very much so"

"Who are they?" Upon hearing her words, you flinch. It was so quick you were certain she hadn't noticed it, but she did and her dark eyebrows shot together, slightly creasing the skin between them.

"They're the most amazing person. They're cute, they're responsible, and they have manners like no other gentlewoman I've ever met" you silently bite at your lower lip, feeling your teeth sink painfully into the skin, but you needed a distraction from the jaded look on Karina's face and pain was the perfect volunteer.

"They sound nice" Karina resorted, gazing down to her own hands as they shook under the extreme condition of jealousy and fitted rage. "Their name?"

You gulped, fidgeting uncomfortably in your seat. Her reaction wasn't sitting well with you and your heart. She seemed almost violent with her wording, and you could tell she was ready to punch a hole through the wall if needed.

"Their name?"

You and Karina were close, friendship wise and physically. Your knees were close to brushing each other, and your shoulders so close you could feel the warmth emitting from her body. But what you have with her is special, like a shared star. It's the most precious and dearest thing you've ever had a grasp on and you're afraid if you say the wrong words- or do the wrong thing- she'll be out of your life forever. That star would then be a fragment of what once was a beating heart, now set to rest like a fatal pet upon its funeral bed.

But you have to take that leap in life sometimes. That's what makes life, life.

With one deep breath, you open your mouth, and the name almost falls crooked upon your tongue. You could feel your mouth go stale as your body tensed up. Never have you felt more afraid of rejection than you do right now.

"Karina"

But then the name crawled into her ears for her brain to process and her heart to examine. Her brain had broken the name up for a thorough inspection, diving deep for further inspections in the name and if it were truly hers or some misheard piece of information. So she needed clarification.

"Karina?"

You bit your lip even harder, finally drawing a drizzle of shiny blood as you nodded, repeating yourself.

"Karina"

It was spontaneous, the way she gripped your shoulders and kissed you hard. Yet, despite the kiss being needy, it felt far from it. The kiss you shared was passionate and most certainly possessive on her behalf.

There was a dominance in the way she pulled you impossibly closer till you were just mesh in her lap, moulding clay within her fingers.

And then she pulled away, cheeks flushed and eyes darting around your strawberry face.

"I like you too"

Giselle

You had ironically met at a coffee shop, like all cliché love stories. Giselle was a first-time customer who quickly grew accustomed to the heavy scent of coffee grains and the sight of natural hues. Wooden planks lined dividers and eco-friendly plants lined certain countertops.

But the place was deceiving.

The welcoming atmosphere was the polar opposite to what actually awaited her at the counter. You were calm and collected, just like the building itself. But what had made you so different was the way you made her feel.

Because while the building made her feel at home, you made her feel… different. You made her feel as if a dozen batches of nestled butterflies were hatching, making her insides flutter and tingle in a delectable way. You made her feel as if she was the only person in the room, that you were solely here for just her and her order. And so, because of this, she freshened her face with the brightest smile she could conduct before she set for the lingering line.

Giselle distinctively remembers how long the queue time felt. She remembers how she prayed that you would be the one to take her order with your monotone apron and pinned back hair. You looked stunning, even with the restricted view created by the heads of the incompetent infront of her.

There was just something fulfilling in the way you dashed around the area, informing your coworkers of the orders being made as transactions went through. You were just stunning.

So, it was no surprise that when you called upon the next customer in line, Giselle had practically thrown herself a small celebration within her mind. And of course, your voice was tender, and of course, you were polite. But your eyes? They seemed to be the most desirable feature upon you. They sparkled under the fluorescent lights, shining like a clean mirror as Giselle could practically see her giddy reflection within them. Your eyes seemingly controlled Giselle in ways she never thought to be possible.

When you finally called her name for her collection, Giselle had never been so in love with her own name. There was just something in the way you said it- how it lightly trespassed upon your tongue like a sin.

The cup felt warm between her fingers and palm, warming the appendages as she read over her own name repeatedly while taking small sips and obvious glances your way. It would be an absolute dream if you just locked eyes one more time.

And so she visited more often than not. Giselle would make an appearance before work, during her lunch breaks, after work. It was as if a day was never truly complete without visiting you- without stalking you.

Eventually, however, the font of her name was accompanied by the small doodle of whatever you pleased: a star, a smiley face… a heart… These made her smile like some love-drunk teenager all over again.

And not before long, you added another something else, changing everything all together as you instead put a small note, each one differing from the last. They were only little sentences like "How are you?" Or "Have a good day!". But each one held a firmer grip on her heart, and soon enough, it became far more addictive than any type of alcohol or drug or coffee, for you were her new addiction.

However, there was one issue. You've never actually exchanged any other words except for "the usual?" And "please". She could sense the mutual respect as one of the establishments highest paying customers at this point. But surely you weren't doing it just because of that? She's never seen you write on anyone else's cup the way you do for her. She's never seen you even remotely smile at any other customer the way you do for her.

So why must she feel so glum when she received a cup with nothing? There was just a blank spot on the sticker where her name- her doodle- her note was supposed to be? She would've taken anything, but nothing? That just seems too harsh to just suddenly stop.

Her head was too far up in the clouds to realise the shitty customer pestering you the entire time you were making her usual drink. So when she finally screwed her head back into place and took into account the situation, to say she was ready for murder was an understatement.

Giselle would unknowingly want this lady to bleed, to cry at her lack of mercy as she'd just slowly edge her towards death before aiding her to health, only to do it all again.

It was sick, but Giselle quite frankly couldn't care less about that. She cared more about getting her note and dealing with that woman (albeit at a later date).

So, with her bag flung over her barely exposed shoulder, she strode towards the till, where you were being harassed and humiliated for your "mistake" of an order.

It wasn't until she was basically standing side by side with the woman of many problems that you had noticed Giselle, turning to look at her apologetically as she just gave you a reassuring smile.

"Excuse me?" Giselle begins, interrupting the rampaging bull beside her as she squeezed into the conversation like it was a heated hot tub. "You uh- you forgot my note" She sheepishly held up her cup of steaming contents, her fingers wrapped around its curved frame delicately.

You only blinked at her, face slightly scrunched, but soon a smile grew before her eyes. She did that? Giselle had actually made you smile? If only you knew how many fantasies you were making come true with just the smile and light eye contact. "Ouh, I did? I'm sorry. Please, let me fix that?"

You held your hand out, sleeves rolled up to your elbows as your hand flexed slightly. To this, Giselle only blushed, handing you her cup as the woman before her scoffed in annoyance.

"So she gets a replacement!?"

"Oh, I'm not getting a replacement" Giselle smiled a crooked grin at the woman beside her.

"Here you go," you smiled, placing the black marker pen back down on the counter as you handed Giselle her drink once again. "Please enjoy" You gave her a half smile this time, blushing lightly as your fingers brushed against each other- there was no way you hadn't felt that too!

But deciding to question it later, Giselle took one last look at the rude customer, eyeing her up and down to get one last good look at her before turning on her heel to sit down at her designated booth once again.

With a hopeful sigh, Giselle took a small sip of her drink, finally deciding to look down and read the note you had just put on there.

There laid the arrangement of four simple words. Each one held value within the context of the small note, but the overall value was enough to send her heart flipping and somersaulting in pure ecstasy.

"Go out with me?"

Winter

It was destined from the very beginning- or so that's what Winter told herself every night. Every night, she spent alone in her room, cramped up into the corner of her bed- draped in different sheets and blankets as she just drew all things to do with you.

She'd draw your name in pretty pinks and emboid the empty surroundings with carefully drawn-out hearts and clouds. There would often be pages found with repetitive contents. Like pages of both your initials, conjoint by a single plus symbol.

But these were just silly little drawings, things little children would do to pair themselves up with their crushes within their innocent minds. But Winter wasn't a child anymore. She's an adult with "normal" adult thoughts and desires. And so she had a special book, one of carefully executed photos of you to accompany a timeline of your day. She'd have notes of all your dislikes and likes, all your hobbies and fears, all your friends and enemies. The list extends past half the book with information written in extreme detail.

Darkness seemingly seeps into the material of the pages as the photographs and facts near the back pages. She'd have pictures of you with your friends. She'd have you surrounded in hearts while all your friends have ink scribbled across them in ways that represent the fate they'll meet one day.

One friend would have no eyes, while another had their mouth slit to the tip of their cheek bones. One has their stomach ripped open with drawn on organs, and the other simply had a cloud of ink engulfing the entirety of their head.

However, these photos never did her any justice, they were just little flashy tropes she could hug at night- pretending you were there with her instead of a book she cherishes as if it were you.

Winter would often find herself waking up in a sour mood because of this, eventually leading to her doing even more stalking.

How could something go from being so sweet and childish-like, to morbid and sadistic? The answer? Winter. Winter was exactly that.

When you first met a few months back, it was by complete accident. You had body slammed her while playing a game of complex frisbee with your friends in the park.

She remembers so clearly how cute you looked- all dumbfounded with your mouth hung ajar. Your eyebrows were furrowed into a straight line, eyes slightly widened as your face changed to the hue of roses.

You looked perfect.

So flushed for her and her only. Now she wants that again, and she wants that forever. She knew there was no way this was a coincidence. It was destiny to her.

So she made it her duty to follow you, "coincidently" meeting you in random locations till you were close enough to actually just talk like friends, and eventually, you considered her one.

She was invited to your outings, but she only went for you- acting as if she was happy to be company for your other friends as well.

She'd hesitantly put on a laugh and smile for the sake of being close to you, pretending to care when one of your friends get broken up with- or when one of them gets fired from their job

Fortunately, though, it eventually paid off. Eventually, you had invited her to a day out with just the two of you.

And obviously, she couldn't reject the opportunity.

So she found herself here, sitting on a bench in the middle of the exact same park you first met as you simply enjoy the silence with each other.

She stares at you while you stare at the natural surroundings that greet you in a whimsical trance. The birds sing happily, and the distant disturbing hum of a car makes itself present.

It was explosive, how you quickly slurred out words, but Winter understood. "You see that spot?' You ask, raising a finger to an empty patch on the field with a small smile gracing your lips.

"Yeah?"

"It's where we met," you add, looking at Winter as she just grins. You remembered? You cared enough to pay attention? She just assumed you were so caught up in looking at her that you wouldn't have noticed.

"Yeah, I suppose it is," Winter nodded, looking back over to the patch of grass.

"I prefer this so much more," you happily sighed out, relaxing into the bench's structure as your hands delved deep into your hoodie pockets.

"Prefer what so much more?"

"I prefer this, just hanging out with you and not being in a group twenty-four seven"

To this, Winter silently questioned why, thoughts of all sorts rushing through her already congested mind. "Any particular reason why?" You almost crippled into a ball at her words, but she was eager to know, and her heart got the best of her tongue.

"What do you mean? How could I not enjoy hanging out with the kindest person I know. And on top of that, she's smart and so, so attractive," you goofily smile, earning a small push out of both embarrassment and overall shyness.

"Anyone would be lucky to date you," you almost whisper, frowning slightly to yourself. But Winter caught that, now mirroring your saddened expression with a hollowed heart.

"Why would you think that, Y/n?"

"Because you're this amazing person. You're far too extraordinary to just be some fling or a one-time purpose girlfriend - you're you! You're understanding, you're responsible, you're lovable. Do you understand how hard it is to come across someone like you in this modern society we've constructed? It's like a septillion to one!"

"Y/n?" Winter reached out, holding your wrist to help calm you down.

"I love you!" You suddenly blurt out amongst the waffling of your rambles, causing you to slam your mouth shut, now embarrassed and fearful for the outcome.

However, the outcome was far from what you expected when you saw that same stupid grin again- the one she does without any particular reason.

"I- I"

"You love me?" Winter grumbled, eying you half suspiciously, but she couldn't stop the smokey pink from spreading across her now flushed face.

It seems that Winter was the one to trip and stumble this time, figuratively body slamming you this time with that flushed look.

"You don't have to love me back. That was a mistake"

"No, you said it for a reason, and I refuse to let that slide as some mistake. Y/n, I love you too. I just didn't know how to say it before. And we were always just around your friends"

"Then I'll fix that. If you're uncomfortable, then I'll do more dates like these ones with just us"

"Dates? This is a date"

You hum. "No! I mean, I wouldn't object to the idea at all, but I feel like I could do better than this for a first date, can I show you?"

Ningning

Your first encounter wasn't exactly the most ideal, but it was perfect for Ningning. She felt as if you had stolen her heart when you walked out the shop, committing a crime that she honestly didn't care much about- but that never stopped her from playing cops and robbers with you.

She'd happily gather intel on you, noting it all down as she dreamily stared at you through your open window or from another booth in a café you visit on the regular.

She'd be so far in her state of delusional mind that her quickly developed obsession would stem out into a more physical form. She'd have an "evidence" board with pictures of you pinned up, reasons, and witness statements from herself to "help" her case.

This was either just some wacky fantasy, or she genuinely believed this to keep herself away from the truth of her yandere-like behaviour.

Either way, it wasn't exactly the most efficient way of "gathering intel" so she went undercover as the girl you met just the other week and not this fake cop she's made herself to be.

However, one thing leads to another, and months later, she's found laying on your bed with you. Despite the countless encounters you've both had since that "undercover" mission. She has yet to make any further status updates as all she's been able to think about was how attractive you look no matter the circumstance.

Her feelings had gotten the best of her and the whole "Cop Vs. Criminal" plot had fallen through the floor at this point. Over the course of your time spent together, she's come more and more to terms with her ways, understanding what's happening.

But it's not like she can stop it, she's far past that point, so the only thing she can do is continue to just be your friend. She'd have to sit by your side as you enjoy silly little dates that aren't with her, go on stunning vacations around the world with someone who's not her and grow old with some other person who's not her.

Wait.

She still has a fight in her, though, so why was she thinking these things to herself? Why was she suddenly so defeated in the name of love- something she feels so strongly about?

Maybe it was the way you complained about love, like it would never come your way, like Ningning hadn't in front of you this whole time?

Whatever it was, it was diminishing her own perspective- and her ability to push through a tough crowd because she knew you'd never feel the same- even if she had kidnapped you and forced you to at least try and love her.

"Do you love anyone?"

Ningning choked on her pringles, eyes tightly closing as she coughed furiously into her fisted palm.

Does she love anyone?

When your hand made contact with her back, she felt that same shock of ecstatic she normally does as you try your hardest to fix the issue you have created. After some time, her coughing subsides, and the only thing left between you is the haunting word of "love"

"Do I love someone?" Ningning asked, almost unsure if her ears were deceiving her, but your nod told her enough. "I uhm.." she hesitated, scared to reveal anymore than she already had, thinking back to her makeshift evidence board and old high-school files she had stolen.

Now love just seems like too vague of a word… obsessed is a better suited pick.

"I do," her voice was meek out of fear as she searched your eyes, throat scratched and burning from the choke you unwillingly placed upon her.

One eyebrow rose above the other as a grin quickly spread its way across your face, your look almost demanding "Who"

"I'm not telling you that!" she laughed, still eyeing you cautiously in fear of exposing herself. "Do you have a crush, Y/n?"

"I do indeed" your grin only seems to widen as a pit suddenly spawns inside of Ningnings stomach. "I have an idea! If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine?"

"No way!" You roll your eyes at the girl, shaking your head as your grin slips away. "How about you tell me yours, then I'll tell you mine," Ningning requested, flipping the entirety of your offer to benefit and favour her.

You hummed. And then you spoke.

"Sure, why not?" You shrugged, leaning in closer to the smaller girl, leaving an excruciatingly painful gap between you both.

"Ningning"

"Yeah?"

"I love you"

Ningning tensed up like a cat in fear, her back stiffened, and her eyes locked onto your own as the words bounced around inside of her head. "You love me?" She repeated, sounding unsure before repeating it again and again until the words just felt natural and light upon her tongue.

"Is this real?"

You only laughed, smacking her shoulder lightly "one hundred and one percent." You smiled as Ningning only swooned, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

"I love you too!"

#aespa #karina #giselle #winter #ningning #yandere aespa #reaction #request #anon #kpop #yandere karina #yandere giselle #yandere winter #yandere ningning #requested #au #writing #gxg #sm aespa

168 notes · View notes

oonlykooii · 5 months

Text

𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Zoro x Fem! Reader

Sense and sensibility. Common sense, the ability to decide what is most appropriate and evaluate situations, but what happens when that common sense is carried away by sensibility?...

2.5k words

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

Have you ever wondered if there is life beyond planet Earth? Would something be so strange? The closest thing we could share the Milky Way with would be the famous extraterrestrials. But could another form of life identical to us exist in the entire cosmos?

Cold night and fresh wind, a clear sky where the protagonists were only the constellations and a shooting star passing through the sky, a shooting star that left a trail of white smoke, but shooting stars don't do that, do they?

It was an impressive speed at which it was going, which little by little was going down until it hit the surface.

A terribly directed landing that caused a loud scandal, there was no shortage of the great disaster that followed it, the shooting star or rather what was a ship, impact between the earth and the dirt scraped so abruptly, smoke constantly coming out of the machine while a of the doors opened.

Quickly a man emerged from that spaceship, two swords occupying his hands and a mask covering his mouth and eyes, mint green hair slightly disheveled by all the impact, gray eyes examining the perimeter and analyzing any possible threat, 3 golden earrings hanging from his ear left and a scar decorating his left eye

Meanwhile, a young girl left the ship silently, avoiding paying his attention to her, fresh air to breathe and a grove of trees, a perfectly pleasant place to explore, completely leaving that ship that was jumbled between a throne branch, causing his attention to be drawn to you

“This is” You asked, looking at the environment that surrounded you, a wild and wooded environment, you could continue contemplating it until you felt a quick impact that caused your head to be covered “Zoro!”

“Gh! It's necessary! You are the princess and you decide to go down as if nothing had happened" That man cursed, but even as he cursed it was clear that his true intentions were to act as quickly as possible to prevent his protégé from being in any danger, even if it cost him life, noticing how he had stopped breathing by keeping his chest inflated, a sign of oxygen retention and of course, avoiding speaking so as not to waste resources

“This is not necessary” You mentioned removing the helmet from your face, you felt the cool night breeze hit your face again “I don't think this is contaminated”

The man seemed to frown more when his face, stunned to discover that this place had nothing toxic and had unfortunately caused a scene, looked slightly to the sides, raising his shoulders, clicking his tongue and resting his hand on the katanas again in a gesture of ignoring what happened.

“Still, it was a careless gesture.” You could see some of the seriousness, even the way in which he quickly, although almost imperceptibly, improved his posture “In another situation things would not have gone well.”

“But we are not in that situation, right?”

You stared at him and he looked at you with his only open eye of that sharp steel color that stabbed into you, a tension in the atmosphere to see who was right, and the current situation and everything else did not cooperate much with that event, He was going to mention something until something interrupted them.

“Sector 3 Alpha script. We are on Earth, better known for being a planet within the sector known as the Milky Way” The robotic voice was present, similar to the tone of a woman but without having a special characteristic for the moment.

“Ah... It's just you, Punk-07” You sighed in relief, seeing that flashing light that soon took a shape.

It maintained a transparent form where blue connections and cables could be seen throughout its body that matched its transparent blue form. A nucleus in the place of the heart where all those connections were united. The connections shone in synchrony, something different, typical of science fiction movies but truly useful, a humanoid that nodded, maintaining its elegant bearing and being noticeable as even now the cables that managed See, those that were aesthetically united shone in a strange pattern, resembling the neural networks that were created in the organism of a living being but that had 4 arms, how strange, right?

You sighed softly as you shook your dress slightly, you looked at them both to rest your eyes on him again and how he began to walk to the side and how he turned to look at us so we could follow him.

“Where we go” You asked as you walked along that path full of trees and whispers of nature itself.

“To look for shelter, we cannot afford for them to come for us"

You sighed delicately as a somewhat uncomfortable tension formed in the atmosphere, everything silent and on guard, although that was the normal behavior that someone could show after losing everything, right?

You clenched your fists helplessly, you had tried everything and you couldn't do anything, so all those mornings, afternoons, nights, early mornings that you had sacrificed were for nothing? No, you could still do something to save your people, right?

You navigated your thoughts until you looked for the third time at the same tree you had passed by a few minutes ago.

“Zoro”

“What?”

“We are walking in circles”

“...”

“Zoro”

“What?”

“We are lost”

You stopped walking to watch as Zoro turned to look at you and walked towards you, perhaps there would be a fight again to see who was right in the matter?

No, he got into a guard position to put you behind him. You came out of your thoughts to listen carefully to noises, a strange sound of the wind being altered, so that came from–

A giant reflector of white light rested on top of them to illuminate them, war tanks and strange beings that arrived in both ground and air troops “ What is this? Will they have followed us?” You asked while looking at both the swordsman and what seemed to be an artificial intelligence.

“Probably” He mentioned as he stood in front of you and looked from side to side as he unsheathed two of his three characteristic swords.

…

A long silence occurred until someone came down, he had a green camouflage suit along with a helmet that covered his head, he was a man, he already looked somewhat advanced in age but maintained a good shape.

Zoro remained in a defensive position in front of you while he stared at the stranger who stood a little further in front of all the troops.

“Identify yourselves” The man mentioned while he finished staying still a few meters near you.

And as expected there was no response, the man simply let out a laugh to go to sleep for a short period of time and then wake up, how strange? Would it be customary for all of them to do that? That left them both confused and watching with curiosity.

“These teenagers who don't even answer anymore!! HAHAHAHA”

The confusion returned, why was he laughing? Whether he was happy or he was going to attack them, Zoro stood firm in his place while pointing one of his katanas at him strangely as a warning sign.

“Commander Garp, you better not let your guard down” another man joined that scene, but it was easy to distinguish him from the others, he was wearing a suit and a hat that did not leave his eyes visible

"Don't be a party pooper, Bogard, I'm just trying to lighten the mood," The older man mentioned as he pulled the younger man closer and gave him what seemed to be a firm pat on the back. "

When the man finished that abrupt demonstration he looked at them again to sigh a little loudly and let out a delicate laugh.

“Well, since they don't want to talk, they leave us nothing but to make them talk by our own methods” He said to point them out so that ground troops would approach little by little.

“Don't walk away from the machine” Zoro whispered to you so that only you would listen, his head slightly turned and his only eye fixing on you while he left you in charge of that intelligence.

Zoro approached little by little without making any sudden movements, he knew that if he did something sudden his protected person would be at risk and that was what he least wanted to deal with.

…

A sound that echoed throughout the place, a bullet, but do bullets end up cut in half? The movement was so fast, no one had noticed how the man had disappeared and his swords were already dancing to the rhythm of his precise and fast movements.

The gunshots and the noise increased more and more, you couldn't stand by and watch him... a memory came to your memory and made you clench your fists with a mixture of emotions so foreign to you, resentment.

From your waist you quickly grabbed a cane, to unfold it so that it took the shape of a stick, you held it tightly to begin to maneuver and skillfully hit the soldiers, as always so foolish to what he told you.

A pitched battle began in that forest, but it was so unfair, the advantage you had was incomprehensible to them, you had managed not to catch his attention for a few minutes until he saw you.

You were using that ability of yours against a few but, how strange, they were so fragile, and it's not that you had such great strength, but, they weren't like them, they were like-

You felt someone grab your arm, a touch full of decision and dominance but leaving the abruptness aside.

“What are ya' still doing here?” He responded with his brow slightly furrowed while he still held onto you

“I'm not going to let you fight alone”

“I don't need you to help me, I need you to be safe”

You clenched your fists with accumulated strength, you looked away from him, that feeling of resentment that you felt when you saw him was born again in your chest.

“But” Something interrupted the atmosphere

You were going to say something to finish off his argument until in the blink of an eye you were lying on the ground with him on top of you, his arm on the side of your head for support and his sword still in his hand.

A bullet stopped, they had tried to shoot you and that only frustrated him, he looked at you to find any sign of injury but everything seemed to be fine

You stayed for a few seconds in shock watching him and the night sky, him, the scent of steel, and a reddish color running down his arm, you had to do something or that was going to get complicated, everything was going to get complicated, you tilted your head. to avoid seeing it and focus on getting out of there

You pressed a button on the palm of your hand, the extension of a high-tech bracelet, you called that robot from a few moments ago to come for you. As if it were a ray of light, something came quickly for you to enclose you in a kind of zorb ball that would cover you from any attack.

You could still slightly feel the impact of the bullets hitting that protective sphere, but due to the speed at which they were going they lost sight of them but had a hard time going down a rocky forest path that ended up throwing them down a rocky slope.

Even though he was hurt, he pulled you towards him to cover you with his body so that you wouldn't be hurt, one of his arms around your shoulders that kept you close to him, and the other holding that sphere to keep himself steady, firm

That protective balloon ended up breaking, nothing serious, just the wet earth staining your arms and knees, you stayed recovering for a few seconds to get back on your feet.

“What was that?” He asked with that slightly frowning expression of his.

“That was getting out of control, or what? Were you thinking of finishing off all of them and not having any more of them come?” You refuted with a firm voice.

“I had everything under control, if only!” He wanted to argue.

“If only what? Roronoa, they are humanoids! And without forgetting that!”

You pointed to his injured arm, a slight tear in his uniform where there was blood stained around the fabric, they both looked at each other, there were no more words, it was as if their intense gazes were debating with each other.

“Homo Sapiens Sapiens”

“ … What?” His eyes rested on that intelligent form again to see how it reacted again “The database has been updated.”

“Punk-07” You mentioned while you saw how he looked at both of you “...”

“We must find shelter, or they could track us, and that's the last thing we want” That kind of robot mentioned while leaving them you both silent “The data has been updated, but I don't have much information about human behavior”

Everyone stayed silent, they had a lot to process. The sound and feeling of drops of water staining their skin became present, rain.

“Well, one more problem” Zoro mentioned in a low voice as he grabbed your wrist and they started walking to find a place to take shelter

After so much walking and possibly going and returning to the same place he found a cave, it was not the most refined or comfortable space but with a bonfire that would warm them up it was perfect.

You were sitting next to him, finishing adjusting an improvised bandage on his arm, his gaze was averted and a serious expression, you didn't have the best expression either, the simple fact of curing him for his foolishness made you angry, it all ended a few minutes later, he stand up.

“Thanks” and he left.

While Zoro was talking to that robot about making a possible base of operations or staying in that place, you disagreed.

Your goal wasn't to stay in a cave for the rest of your life, or until they were found you, you walked to the edge of the cave entrance, watching the distant glow of a possible civilization.

“And if we go there?” You asked while you were still stunned by those shines, without noticing how both of them caught their attention on you

“No” You received a quick response from the man

“Something caught his attention, My lady?” That intelligence responded to you with his insensitive voice

“Those lights…” That word replacing the saying that you missed your home, you looked at them both with a calm expression, without showing any hint that could make you look vulnerable “I want to go there”

#zoro x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #op #x reader #zoro #zoro headcanons #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa

52 notes · View notes

onionsaremeansstuff · 2 years

Text

Till the end of the line

Pairing: Soldier boy (Ben) X male reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, war and drugs.

Summary: Ben and you have been friend forever, until the day you’re forced to go to war.

A/N: I’m aware that Ben never fought the WW2 but for the sake of this fic, he did.

December 27th, 1943

As he removed his medical kit from the cupboard and entered the room, (Y/N) remarked, "You should stop getting yourself into trouble."

"Why? I always have to have your bothersome ass to patch my woun- oh fuck." Ben groaned as (Y/N) started cleaning his bruises.

Ben and (Y/N) were essentially lifelong friends. They have been neighbors since birth, and they hit it up right away.

Ben has experienced chronic health issues. (Y/N) grew up seeing his pal visit numerous doctors and take a variety of different medications.

Ben was found unconscious and covered in his own vomit when (Y/N) was seventeen. On that day, he learned that his pal had a medication addiction and he made a promise to himself that he would study medicine and would do everything in his power to help his friend.

That's exactly what he did.

One of the top medical professionals in the region, if not the entire state, is now (Y/N).

He built a name for himself both as a doctor and as a person.

And for that reason, the majority of people didn't comprehend him.

He was a remarkable and successful individual, yet he wasted his time with a loser like Ben while doing his best to pay for any medical care that his friend would require.

You see, in the public eye, Ben was an unemployed, unwell, unpleasant guy who got into fights because he had nothing better to do with his life.

"Fuck, how can you have this wonderful medical reputation when you can't even treat a minor cut without nearly killing me?" Ben moaned.

(Y/N) came to a halt and rolled his eyes before rising up and gathering his belongings.

"I suppose you're better off without me, good luck repairing yourself."

"Why are you being so dramatic?" Ben asked, but when he saw (Y/N) refusing to leave his house, he became desperate.

Ben ran (or attempted to; his legs are still sore) and jumped on his friend's back.

"I'm sorry, okay? Everyone knows I'm an asshole. No one can stand me, and I should give my life to you for wasting your time with me," Ben could hear his friend sigh.

"Your blood has stained my clothes now."

"Sorry," Ben apologized and walked away from his pal.

(Y/N) wound up bandaging Ben's wounds and Ben was aware of his friends' displeasure.

"Look, I know I don't deserve you. I apologize for being rude, and I apologize for your clothes. I would wash them for you if I knew how."

(Y/N) glanced at him even more irritably.

"I don't care about my clothes or how you treat me. How long have I known you for? 26 years? I'm irritated that you continue getting yourself into fights for drugs, Ben! You promised to quit!"

Ben was speechless at this point. He understands why (Y/N) was upset with him; he messed up again, and there was nothing he could do. He knows that (Y/N) will never trust him again.

He wishes he could help his pal more. He wishes he wasn't so dependent on him.

He hoped he wasn't such a sick and useless being. If only he could figure out how to be valuable to everyone, for (Y/N).

(Y/N) grumbled a little more and then sighed.

"There's some food in the kitchen for you. Go eat it and I'll go wash my clothes."

—

Ben understands his friend probably doesn't want him anywhere near him, but being in the same spot as (Y/N) was his way of apologizing.

That's why he crept into the other man's room and cautiously laid next to him.

It wasn't an unusual occurrence between them.

Despite being a famous doctor, (Y/N) never made a lot of money, preferring to keep his medical consultations as low-cost as possible.

Because of this, they only have one room with one bed. Ben normally sleeps on their couch, which keeps him warm on cold evenings.

But with (Y/N) enraged at him, it was like approaching a lion about to attack.

When Ben was able to get into the bed without being kicked out by (Y/N), he approached the other man and apologized once more.

"There will come a time when I won't be here for you, Ben. I take care of you because I'm your friend, but people won't do it. I just want to make sure you're okay." (Y/N) whispered.

"We both know I'm going to die before you," Ben responded, while (Y/N) remained silent.

(Y/N) gazed at Ben when he eventually fell asleep.

Ben was attractive. Sadly, his addiction and fights made him appear uglier than he should, but (Y/N) could see through it all.

(Y/N) couldn't explain why he disliked seeing Ben with the girls he hooked up with. He likes to think it's because they're some addicted hoes, but right now, when that thing arrived, all he wanted was for his friend to have a wife to take care of him.

—

January 2nd, 1944

(Y/N) went to the grocery store and, after nearly an hour in line, was able to obtain some canned food, milk, and a few fruits.

He went home, thinking about the war.

(Y/N) wouldn't call himself a dreamer. He remembers his early years, how bad things were during the Great Depression, and how hard things are now since some lunatic European decided it was wartime all over again.

Maybe things will get better, but (Y/N) understands he might not be there to see it.

(Y/N) finally made it home after a long walk.

The scent of smoke was overwhelming when he opened the door. (Y/N) rolled his eyes since he understands what is going on. Ben must have fucked someone and is presently smoking someplace.

(Y/N) chose to ignore his friend and place the food in the refrigerator.

When he finished, he turned around to find Ben smoking next to the kitchen door.

His friend seems upset and depressed.

As he waved to his pal, he thought, "The girl probably dumped him or something."

Ben threw his cigarette out the window and began walking in the (Y/N) direction.

(Y/N) was perplexed by his friend's movement, but before he could inquire, Ben punched him in the face.

"What the fuck?!" (Y/N) shouted, putting his hand over his bruised face.

"When were you going to tell me, huh?!" Ben screamed at the other man. "When the fuck were you going to fucking tell me?!"

(Y/N) remained silent.

"You'd wait till the sergeant knocked on the door before telling me?" As Ben continued to scream, a single tear fell from his eye.

(Y/N) could understand Ben's annoyance. He realizes he was the wrong person.

But informing the person you care about the most that you're going to war against your will isn't easy.

Everything was quiet as Ben waited for an answer while (Y/N) considered what to say.

"I…" (Y/N) began, "I don't have a choice, they are forcing me to go. They were running out of field physicians, and they determined I was one of the lucky ones."

Ben rolled his eyes and threw the letter in the face of (Y/N).

"I know, I can fucking read," Ben said angrily as he sat on the chair next to him. "I just don't understand why you didn't tell me about it, for god's sake!"

"It's... complicated." (Y/N) sat next to Ben on the chair, saying, "I barely know how to deal with everything that's going on, and I didn't know how to tell you."

Ben rose to his feet.

"Bullshit, (Y/N). Fucking bullshit," He screamed as he walked out of the home, leaving (Y/N) alone.

(Y/N) remained on his stool, as he cried.

—

January 9th, 1944

(Y/N) glanced out the car window, watching the city he used to reside in fade away as the countryside began to take over the scenery.

Since Ben stormed out of their house, (Y/N) had never seen him again, and he was now very certain that the prospects of seeing him again were slim.

"Perhaps it would be better this way," (Y/N) reasoned.

But he couldn't stop thinking about his friend, even if he hadn't said goodbye.

He promised himself he wouldn't cry, but he couldn't stop himself from crying.

The fact that he was going to participate in a war he didn't want to be a part of. The fact that he was destined to die. The fact that his best friend was upset with him. The fact that he couldn't have what he so much desired.

Throughout the rest of the journey, tears streamed down his cheeks.

—

March 30th, 1944

Every day brought more anguish, misery, and monotonous rationing.

(Y/N) couldn't see why someone would select military training. He was simply a field doctor, and he ended up in pain throughout his entire body.

And if he had to take another bullet from a rookie's arm, he'd go insane. How can they send those kids to battle when the vast majority of them can't even handle a gun without being hurt?

The last night of training in the United States occurred tonight. Everyone will sail to England tomorrow to carry out the Normandy invasion plan.

(Y/N) was just now gathering his possessions and organizing his clothing in the medical tent.

"Hey (L/N), we have a free night tonight to do whatever we want." Thomas, one of (Y/ N's) coworkers, stated as he entered the tent where (Y/N) was resting.

"I understand, but I don't believe there's anything I want to do right now."

"You should have a good time tonight because it's our last day before traveling to England and carrying out the complete mega invasion plan they want to carry out." Thomas offered (Y/N) some beer, but he refused.

"Sorry. The general needs to speak with me in a few minutes and I can't go there stinking," (Y/N) replied as he fastened his boots.

"What have you done, man?"

(Y/N) sighed and stood up.

"Hopefully something extremely horrible, so I can get sent out of here," Thomas laughed, adding that he would accompany (Y/N) to the headquarters.

Thomas walked (Y/N) to the headquarters and exited after saying one good luck.

(Y/N) entered the building and went straight to the general's office.

"Just in time, (L/N), please have a seat," General Raynolds said, motioning to a chair near his desk.

(Y/N) sat on the chair and swallowed forcefully.

"So, as you are aware, the Vaugh company-"

"Vought." (Y/N) cut in, and the general gazed at him, "... Sir."

"Yeah, they supply the army with the majority of our medications and everything you doctors require."

"I'm aware. Really poor quality, I must say." General Raynolds looked at (Y/N) once more "... Sir."

General sighed and rolled his eyes.

"They invented new stuff that makes a normal human stronger, healthier, and capable of withstanding anything. It's pretty experimental, and they've only used it in one person so far," the general said as he paused to fetch a cigar from his drawer and lit it.

"I'm sorry, but why are you telling me this, sir."

"You're lucky I like you, kid, or else I'd break your arm." The general said as he took out some documents from the drawer. "The point is, the guy who took the thing is the perfect soldier now, and he will engage in the war with us,"

The general put the stack of papers in front of you.

"However, they don't know the side effects yet, so they need a doctor to watch after him, just to make sure he's not dying or anything."

(Y/N) picked up the papers in front of him.

"Soldier boy? Really? A person who calls himself a soldier boy is the army's new weapon?" (Y/N) mocked as he read the report. "But anyhow, why me and not a Vought scientist? They're probably more knowledgeable about this..." (Y/N) checked in the newspaper for information about "Compound V."

"We don't care about his name; we only care about what he can do." General Raynolds said as he stood up and glanced out the window of his office. "Vought scientists don't have the military background you have. Besides, the guy has explicitly requested you, and you still have quite a reputation out there. You're free to go," the General tossed his cigar out the window.

(Y/N) walked back to the dorm from the office.

He couldn't get the soldier boy person out of his mind.

Who in their right mind would agree to be a test subject for this compound V thing?

—

April 1st, 1944

(Y/N) arrived in the middle of the night the following day.

England was in full disarray. They're currently based in Portsmouth, but according to what (Y/N) has heard, the Germans were bombarding London every day. As soon as (Y/N) stepped out of the jet, his general instructed him to assist the injured citizens.

When he finally got into the dorm to get some much-needed rest, a weirdo appeared and called for him.

He was meant to be introduced to Soldier Boy by this Vought employee.

They were walking through the base halls, and all (Y/N) could think about was this Soldier Boy person.

He not only chose to join the army, but he also agreed to take part in a risky experiment.

What type of lunatic is he? Doesn't he fear for his life?

(Y/N) would go to any length to return to his city, his home, and Ben.

He's not sure why, but he already despises Soldier Boy.

—

When they arrived at the room where the guy would be, the Vought guy asked (Y/N) to leave while he entered.

After two minutes, the employee exited the room and instructed (Y/N) to enter.

There was nothing inside the room when (Y/N) entered it.

He searched around but found nothing.

"Is that some sort of joke?" He thought to himself.

A hand grabbed (Y/N's) waist and raised him, causing him to scream.

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU FUCKING FUCKER!" (Y/N) shouted, and the unidentified guy chuckled as he did so.

(Y/N) turned around to see the soldier boy's face, but as soon as he did, he regretted it.

"Hi, (Y/N). Long time, no see, hmm?" Soldier boy, or Ben, said.

Ben waited for his friend to respond, but his looks shifted from astonishment to happiness to fury.

Ben was not the same as before.

He didn't appear as "deteriorated" as previously; he appeared younger, stronger, and taller.

Ben appeared to be a model rather than a sick person.

" So... you're not going to say anything?" Ben questioned.

"Obviously," (Y/N) laughs bitterly. "Who else but you could be that stupid?"

"Sorry?"

"Why did you agree to be a part of this, Ben? Do you realize how stupid you are?" (Y/N) moved closer to him. "I told you a million times how dangerous medications can be and how I never encourage using ones that have been tested a billion times, only for you to take this compound V garbage and willingly inject it into your body. You could be dead right now!"

Ben looked to the side, unsure what to say, before returning his gaze to (Y/N) and resting a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"I understand that, but it was a risk I was willing to take. You were going to war, so I wanted to join the army, but because of my health, they wouldn't let me. After I begged to join, they offered me the compound V, and I would do anything to help you, even if it meant dealing with the side effects."

(Y/N) looked into Ben's eyes.

"It's still a foolish decision."

"If I wasn't being foolish, it wouldn't be me, would it?" Ben smiled warmly at his friend, who sighed.

"You don't have to save me. I would have been fine if you stayed in my house, secure and sound."

Ben hugged his friend while rolling his eyes.

"No, we're in this together to the finish, okay?"

(Y/N) returned his friend's hug.

"Okay."

—

August 12th, 1944

Ben and (Y/N) were walking through the streets of the city they just freed.

(Y/N) requested that his supervisors search the town for any injured citizens. Ben chose to accompany them, saying: "Perhaps some lovely French girl wants to reward me for my assistance."

That made (Y/N) roll his eyes and deliver a monologue about how horrible Ben is

(Y/N) noticed several groans throughout the speech and decided to investigate.

He went into an abandoned building and looked after everybody who was inside. After a few minutes, he came across a young girl who was crying and terrified for her life.

"Okay, little girl, I'm going to assist you. (Y/N) said before realizing it was ridiculous because she probably didn't understand anything.

The girl began to cry even more and attempted to hide even more.

"I'm going to pick her up and take her to the hospital we're using," Ben stated as he moved past (Y/N).

Ben sensed (Y/N's) hand on his shoulder.

"No, she's terrified. We need her to trust us," he remarked as he exited the building and returned a minute later.

(Y/N) returns with a daisy he discovered in the street. He approached the girl again and presented her with the flower.

The small girl took the flower with care and approached him.

"See? I'm not a bad guy!" (Y/N) said as he picked up the girl and placed her on his lap.

(Y/N) brought out his first aid box and began bandaging the girl's wounds.

Ben was mesmerized by the scene as the small girl tenderly grasped (Y/N's) hand as he cared for her.

Ben considered how (Y/N) would be a good parent. He couldn't stop thinking about (Y/N) being a wonderful father and husband.

"Ben?" (Y/N) said, returning Ben to reality. "Are you paying attention?"

(Y/N) picked up the girl and took her to Ben.

"Take her to the hospital; they'll find her parents there, okay? I will take care of any more injured civilians."

Ben held the girl and blushed slightly before mouthing an ok and driving her to the hospital, still thinking about how fortunate someone would be to have (Y/N) in their lives.

—

August 25th, 1944

"Come on (Y/N), we just freed Paris! We deserve a night off to have fun," Ben said to his friend.

"You don't need me to have fun," (Y/N) replied flatly.

"I know, but see, those Parisian girls are sexy as fuck. I'm going to have a Foursome with them tonight. I can arrange one for you if you like." Ben's elbow made contact with (Y/N).

"Thank you, but I'm not interested," (Y/N) gave his friend a fake smile.

Ben shook his head.

"Well, your choice, man," Ben walked away with the girls, and (Y/N) watched as he disappeared with them.

(Y/N) returned to the hotel where they are staying as a base.

The doctor threw himself over the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

...If only Ben knew.

—

April 2nd, 1945

The allies just conquered Munich a few days ago. With the Soviets advancing on the east front, the war would be over soon.

Ben and (Y/N) have remained close in recent months.

Ben would go to the medical tent as much as possible. He doesn't know much, but he enjoys seeing his friend take care of patients. When Ben needed attention, he would merely state that he was experiencing some side effect, and the General would excuse (Y/N).

And that's exactly what occurred now.

Ben and (Y/N) made their way through the woodland to an abandoned tiny wood house near the community they just freed. Ben is walking in front in case there is a land mine in the area.

They're both sitting on a small bed, finishing the bottle of whiskey. Ben could scarcely feel the effects of the booze, while (Y/N) was completely drunk.

They're both silent.

Ben appreciates the uncommon silence and the company of his friend.

(Y/N), on the other hand, began to sob.

"Hey? (Y/N)? What exactly is going on?"

"It's just... everything Ben," (Y/N) began to cry more loudly.

Ben pressed his friend against his shoulder, allowing him to cry.

"I know it's difficult, but it's almost over; we're saving so many lives and-" Ben said before being cut off.

"You're saving lives!" (Y/N) ruptured. "Every fucking day, I see people dying, friends pleading with me to save them, crying that they don't want to die, and you know what I can do? NOTHING! Every single one of them is dying at my hands." (Y/N) shouted and dug his face into Ben's shoulder.

Ben pressed his hand against (Y/N's) cheek, forcing him to look at him.

Ben has never been excellent with words, and he is at a loss for words right now.

He was irritated. (Y/N) has helped him his entire life, and now that he needs him, he is powerless.

(Y/N) locked his lips with his before Ben could say anything.

And it seemed as if time stopped.

For (Y/N), it was the feelings that he had for Ben for years being released at once.

For Ben, his entire world was collapsing around him.

Ben didn't have time to respond because (Y/N) rushed out of the house, leaving Ben confused about everything.

—

They didn't have time to discuss the incident.

When Ben arrived at the base, (Y/N) was already sleeping, and when daylight came, he was transferred to another front, leaving (Y/N) alone.

Ben assumed that (Y/N) was too drunk to remember what happened and that he did it because he was drunk and lonely.

But he couldn't deny he was confused. He wasn't gay; he'd always been a ladies' guy, but something about (Y/N) struck him as odd. He wasn't disgusted by the kiss, but he couldn't put his finger on what he was feeling.

He chose to drown out his emotions with alcohol and fight the damned war.

—

May 7th, 1945

The war in Germany finally ended.

The soldiers could be heard celebrating the outcome and Ben was one of them.

He witnessed several of them crying since they were finally able to return home to their wives and loved ones.

Ben had an epiphany as a result of this.

He didn't think about his former town or any girl he'd ever met the instant he received the news.

He imagined how pleased (Y/N) would be, and his adorable smile.

Ben was pleased when he realized (Y/N) was the one he was thinking about.

(Y/N) was the one he wanted.

That kiss was just what he needed to make him realize it, even if he chose to ignore it.

So Ben has a plan.

He would return to (Y/N).

They were going home.

And he would finally express his feelings to (Y/N).

Maybe adopt a puppy together, or a child, even. In secret, of course.

He knew he didn't even know if (Y/N) few the same, but he was certain.

All he needed to do was wait until tomorrow because the medical tent was pretty far away, and then he could finally offer (Y/N) a well-deserved happy ending.

—

May 8th, 1945

Ben awoke with a bright smile on his face.

Today marks the beginning of a new era.

It was the day he'd finally get his man.

He hoped he could spend more time with (Y/N), but the General summoned all the soldiers for a conference, so he went to it, wishing it was already over.

"I want to thank each and every one of you for fighting not only for your country but for every innocent life we rescued." The crowd began cheering. "Unfortunately, even in the light of victory, one last tragedy happened," The general said, as the crowd fell silent. "Last night, as one act of revenge, some Nazis bombarded the hospital we used as a medical base, causing the death of many of our brothers."

No.

No, this couldn't be happening.

Maybe (Y/N) wasn't there at that moment.

Maybe he survived.

He survived.

Yes, he survived, Ben reassured himself. He had to.

Ben rushed out of the meeting and ran to one of the trucks. He was fortunate that the keys were in the ignition.

He drove the truck as quickly to the hospital.

—

The hospital was completely destroyed.

He could see soldiers attempting to recover bodies from the ruins and dust.

It was total chaos.

He wanted to cry, but he couldn't let go of his faith.

He went straight to a nearby soldier and asked for (Y/N).

But no one seems to know anything about him.

Ben stayed there all night and all day, sifting through the ruins for his life's love.

But nothing happened.

Until finally discovered (Y/N).

Parts of him, at least.

Ben burst into tears right there.

The person he cared the most about. The man who helped him all the time in his life. The best person he knows is no longer alive.

Ben recalled the kiss. (Y/N) must have assumed Ben hated him.

He died believing Ben hated him.

Ben cried for hours before finally finding the strength to go.

—

?? ??th, ????

Ben has everything a man could desire.

He was famous.

Everyone adored him.

He is free to fuck anybody he wants.

He could drink the best liquor and smoke the nicest cigarettes.

But nothing could fill the void inside him.

He has a team and a girlfriend. Everything.

But he never stopped thinking about (Y/N).

What a gorgeous smile he had.

His hugs were very warm.

He deserved to be happy.

Ben was desperate to make him happy.

But that is no longer the case.

Ben wishes he could die.

He tried everything to kill himself.

Drugs.

Fights.

Knives.

Guns.

Nothing saddened him more than the thought of never seeing (Y/N) again.

As a result, he shut himself off from the outside world.

He became abusive to his teammates, a jerk to the general public, and stayed high all the time.

He is well aware that (Y/N) will never forgive him for his actions.

But Ben already couldn't forgive himself.

#x male reader #male reader #mxm #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x male reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x male reader #jensen ackles x male!reader #soldier boy x male!reader

370 notes · View notes

leti666bigboss · 1 year

Note

Hullo!

I've got a atsumu x sunshine!reader request where the reader gets insecure of being so positive because atsumu is grumpy and dismissing the reader. Angst to fuff!!

Thanks!

"Don’t."

featuring: miya atsumu x sunshine!gn!reader

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: none except i might have let some cuss words slide in

wc: 1,025

a/n: please excuse and tell me about any grammar mistakes. i apologize if atsumu is kinda ooc? the reader isn't very sunshine in this but i tried my best. also sorry if the scenario ended up abruptly i just ran out of inspiration but i still wanted to post this

You have been by Atsumu's side for quite some time now and out of all people he knows you best. Although he likes to keep a mysterious aura around him every so often, he's opened up to you a lot, so you're pretty much aware of how cold and tough he can be at times. But this? He's never been like this before.

"Ah? Dunno what got into him lately, his tosses are just getting worse and worse n' now he doesn't wanna talk to anyone" states Osamu. "Can I at least have a word with him?" 'his brother doesn't seem to be in a very good state either, so he's getting influenced by 'Tsumu's mood as well? I mean- well- obviously since they live in the same hous-' "You comin' or nah?"

As you enter your boyfriend's room your whole face lights up as if you just saw heaven standing in front of you. He's just sitting down, at his desk. Probably writing something, but he seems bored and unmotivated. You're the opposite of that, you're like a ball ful of happiness that just explodes from time to time and radiates positivity. That usually always comes in handy as it can lit up people's moods pretty fast, and that's always what you used whenever a close one was feeling down. So, with no second thought you just sprinted towards him with your arms opened: "HOW'RE YOU DOINGGGG MY ONE AND ONL-" "Don't". That was his only response? 'Don't?' Well, that was very much not like him. If he wasn't in the mood for affection by any means, he would just hug you with one arm and that's it. He's a pretty lazy person himself, so he doesn't bother with being overly-affectionate.

Back to reality, "`Don't"? That kinda shook you up, but not letting your emotions get affected by it... "Are you doing alright? Do you need anything? ANYTHING YOU NEED I HAV--" "Can you just shut up for a sec?" 'Well, damn that hurt..' you thought. But, without letting his words have too much of an impact on you, trying to keep your composure but with the same energy, on a much cooler yet optimistic-tone, you say "So, how have you been lately?" giving him a warm smile. His liveliness isn't on the same page as yours, though... "Good." 'Good? Well, it's great that he's fine, I mean that's exactly what I needed to know, he answered my questions, yet there's still something not clicking...' And there it was. Overthinking, overthinking and overthinking again. You always try to fight it- even so it haunts you. You've always been nothing but optimistic, trying to look at the bright side, even when there was a room with no light. Obviously that had always been facilitative, in spite of that, no living creature is a robot. You are human. You have feelings as well, and Atsumu seems to be forgetting that "detail" right now. At this point, all of these thoughts covered one minute, 60 seconds with zero dialogue, but full of tension and silence, but your boyfriend decides to break the ice: "What do you want, damn it?" the ice has been broken, yet at what cost if it's so cold? You're tired. And sick. From all of this positivity going to waste. You can't hold in your bottled up emotions no longer, so, you're just letting them out while having your mind blank and no shame: "What do I want from you? What do you mean what I want from you?" Your tone wasn't warm anymore. It was cold-hearted... and Atsumu could feel that. Suddenly, he is not-so-careless anymore, paying attention to everything, without saying nothing, astonished... "You've been so goddamn distant lately... I don't know what's gotten into you, but do something about it yourself! Since you can't accept my help. I'm tired from this NoN-cHaLaNt game or whatever it is that you're playing-" "It's not that!!!" "Then? And you're not the only once being influenced, just like an idea." "Listen, I don't know what happened, jus' everythin' started goin' downhill and suddenly I'm at a low point. I don' wanna bother anyone with my problems, so I'm staying alone, tryin' to solve 'em. D'you get me?"

Oh.

But was that seriously it? ""Tsumu. You wouldn't bother anybody if you talked about this. What's actually bothering me is that you're putting this barrier between us". You sat on his bed and patted the spot next to you, which he gladly took. Atsumu was looking straight down, trying to stop all kinds of intrusive thoughts from taking over his mind. Looking back at his actions and words, he realized that he was WAY too harsh, but time-travel is impossible, right? Instead of looking at the past and what he should have fixed, he decides to fix what should be fixed at the present moment. "[name]". "Yes, 'Tsumu?" 'What the hell? What do I even tell them? And since when have my own emotions become a problem to me?' "What's even--" Your words have been cut my him, enfolding in your arms out of nowhere. He didn't sob, cry or say anything either. It was just pure silence, you two have been sitting like this for like 5 minutes, you didn't mind it, though. 'Cause you'd rather have him like this than losing him completely.

After a hot minute, Atsumu finally spoke up; "I'm sorry". 'And I forgive you. Just- I don't know- Tell me when you're feeling down, you wouldn't be bothering me in the slightest way. And I'd love to help". "Yeah, okay. But sometimes you're being too clingy ya'know? Like cool it down...-" 'Ouch, that kinda hurt- but he's right'. "I'll try to'. As he said that, he literally embraced you even tighter in his arms; 'How ironic'- you thought. But you were getting used to that by now, he always says something and does the complete opposite- which is kinda funny, not gonna lie, although it's not always something to laugh or be happy about.

But, as of right now, you're just happy that you had fixed things with your beloved Atsumu.

115 notes · View notes

agbpaints · 9 months

Text

Today I figured I'd rant about a mech that's dangerously, frustratingly close to being good. In the winter of 3049 as the Clan Invasion crashed into the Draconis Combine, Coordinator Takashi Kurita demanded the Combine's remaining manufacturing bases make good the losses the DCMS had suffered fighting again the extra-spheroid invaders. Enter one Nimakachi Fusion Products Limited, a Free Worlds based dropship and light battlemech manufacturer with a significant presence in Combine space. Nimakachi ramped up their Spider production lines significantly to meet the DCMS's demand for new mechs, but the company also saw an opportunity to expand and produce a new design in-house that would serve as a more combat oriented version of the venerable jumping scout mech. To that end, they designed the Venom

5 tons heavier than it's original inspiration and model code namesake, the SDR-9K Venom is an attempt to answer a fairly frustrating problem posed by newly discovered lostech- namely the range issues of inner sphere pulse lasers. With half the range of their clantech equivalents, ISPLs end up frequently underperforming even their standard counterparts at anything more than absolute shoved-down-your-throat, see-the-whites-of-the-enemy-mech-pilot's-eyes ranges. Now, Namikachi clearly decided that made them perfect for attaching to their bulked up Spider chassis, using its impressively quick 8/12/8 speed to rapidly close and find chinks in the enemy's armor before jumping away to cover. Unfortunately, despite their extensive use of lostech in their new mech's design, NFPL appears to have poached a couple of engineers from Luthien Armor Works, because when they were building a cooling system for the Venom they chose to sabotage their new design with three words: single heat sinks.

Reader, the SDR-9K builds 16 heat on an alpha strike, 24 if it jumps, and every turn it sinks 12. A venom pilot must choose to either seriously expose herself for at least one turn every time they fire their weapons (something she's unlikely to do, considering the mech's paltry 3.5 tons of armor), or more likely spend 2 or 3 turns away from the fight every time they dive in for a strike simply cooling off as they jump around. Attemping to find a bright spot here- the weapons all being located in the center torso makes the design reasonably handy as a light fist fighter, meaning that even when it's blazing hot it still has some means of defending itself up close between dives at someone's rear torsos.

Despite this serious cooling flaw, a mix of the DCMS's existing homicidal tendencies towards its pilots, the efficacy of the Venom as both a rapid response and hit and run platform with low maintenance costs, and likely a healthy does of 'any port in a storm' mentality, the Combine was elated with the design and ordered them by the company in 3050 as pirate interdiction mechs on the fringes of their territory.

Now, despite the deeply troubled original design, the Venom does have some variants that might make it better, so let's run those down really quick. The SDR-9KA takes out one of the torso lasers and replaces it with two tons of armor. While no longer capable of delivering a PSR on its own, this variant does beat the original at least *somewhat* in heat management while also being able to take a PPC/Clan Large Laser to any component before needing to take a crit check.

The SDR-KB is more of the same, but it lowers the heat load even further by adding in a 13th heat sink (yay!), pulling 2 of the jump jets (boo!), and replacing a pulse laser with a machine gun, a ton of ammo, and a ton of extra armor. While this does mean we finally have a variant capable of firing all its guns and moving without burning out the pilot, the presence of the massive torso bomb in conjunction with the slower air speed and thin armor means that this variants staying power is likely wasted in most engagements where it will be more easily disabled or killed.

Finally, because it's a Combine adjacent design, we have the SDR-9KC which is a c3 design. Similar to the 9KA, it pulls a pulse laser for some extra weight to play with, as well as upgrading the chassis to endosteel to make room for the telemetry computer. Unfortunately the cuts don't end there, as Namikachi's mech also pulled out one of the mech's precious double heat heat sinks for even more additional armor. Wait, double heat sinks? Hallelujah yes! Someone finally made the really obvious choice and gave the Venom proper freezers, meaning after 16 years it's finally capable of regularly firing all its guns and jumping. The final 7 tons of armor means the 9KC is also surprisingly tough for its speed and weight, capable of shrugging off most weapons short of a gauss rifle to any off its components with armor left to spare.

Sarna tells me there's another variant, the 9KE, which is armed with an ER laser, ER flamer, mine and remote sensor dispensers, and a partial wing, but Flechs doesn't have a nice sheet for it and dark age tech scares and confuses me. If you want a kooky little scout for your missile carrier company that can annoy attackers with mined roads, this might be it but YMMV.

Despite my ragging on it, I quite like the Venom as a design and an idea. Pulse laser jumpy boys are a favorite niche design type of mine, and when given the cooling they need to succeed, they can be fairly menacing little bastards. It also just looks plain cool with the pointy Ming the Merciless-esque shoulder bads and vectoring fins. With even the 9KC coming in comfortably well under 900 bv, they're cheap additions to the cavalry/exploitation arms of your lances to run alongside things like Wolverines and their bigger brother, the Wraith. Definitely worth a try at keast once if you own a Spider and play in Civil War or later!

#battletech #venom #battlemech #mech talk

29 notes · View notes

touchoflaughter · 7 months

Note

Hi may you do a tickling word prompt with 50 and 51 where Draco Malfoy has a girlfriend's who she could be a Gryffindor and she tried to tickle him to mess with him and he tried to hide it?

"I have no weaknesses."

This is such an adorable request Anon! Ofc I'll do you (and me) that favour! Let's get right into it!

Ticklish!Draco x Ler/Reader

Requests from the promt-list

50. “I have no weaknesses.”

51. “I’m not going to be taken down by something as childish as tickling.”

"What are you trying to do?", Draco chuckled, looking down at you with his brows risen in surprise.

"Imma make you take that back!", you answered, still trying to tackle your much bigger boyfriend to the bed.

"That I said you're pretty smart?", he seemed confused.

"That's not what you said!", you protested.

"That's exactly what I said. Now stop this nonsense.", he was smirking from ear to ear in that typical cheeky way, clearly amused about your clumsy attempts to knock him over.

"You said I'm pretty smart for a Gryffindor. That's a huge difference!", you insisted, finally breaking his balance and landing right on top of him. Draco, who landed on his back, looked up to you in surprise.

"Okay, I gotta correct myself. You're smart and strong-", he chuckled, before completing his sentence: "For a Gryffindor." The cunning Slytherin couldn't stifle a gleeful smirk when your expression darkened.

"Oh you'll regret that one!", you threatened with an evil grin. Without further hesitation you started pinching his sides, still sitting on top of him.

"H-Heheyy! What ahare you dohoing?", Draco started twitching from left to right like a fish out of water before he quickly caught your wrists.

"Aww did I found a weakness right there?", you mocked him, smirking about his adorable reaction. You haven't heard him giggling like that before.

"I have no weaknesses!", He claimed returning to his well known arrogant attitude.

"Let go of my wrists then.", you snickered provocatively.

"Oh hell nah.", he shook his head, knowing damn well what your next move would be.

"Why? Since you have no weaknesses, you wouldn't mind a few harmless fingers, right?", you mocked. He grunted and seemed to take some time to concentrate before letting go of your wrists.

You wasted no time and started scribbling your fingertips all over his exposed ribcage while Draco tried to hold his shit together. His hands formed fists when he grabbed the blanket, trying to distract himself from the torturous sensation. "Mhhh-wahahait."

"Wait for what?", you asked while squeezing right under his armpits. The blonde Slytherin tried to dodge your attacks as inconspicuous as possible by pressing his arms on his body. He was tensed so much, his veins were already bulging out his sinewy arms. "For you to give up?"

"I’m not going to be taken down by something as childish as tickling.”, Draco countered, surpressing the laughter at all cost.

"To me it seems you're pretty ticklish- especially for a Slytherin.", you laughed, scribbling your nails all over his exposed belly and hips. That's when he lost it. His arms shot forward, covering his body as good as possible.

"I'm nohot! Stohop!", he tried to maintain his facade- vainly.

"I won't stop until you take that back!", You blackmailed your boyfriend, who seemed not so tough anymore.

"Damnit youhu evil whihitch!", he tried to insult while involuntary giggles slipped here and there.

"Thank you.", you countered sarcastically when you slid upwards, onto his chest so you could get his sides without Draco being able to defend himself. "But wrong answer." You immediately started scribbling both your hands up and down his sides and watched him loose his coolness.

"Fuhuhuck! Ohohokay! Okahahaay!", he pounded his fists against the bed.

"Okay?", you raised your brows in amusement, not stopping the tickling. "Okay what, silly?"

"Don't mahake me sahay it!", he pleaded while he tried to buckle you off. The tall boys giggling had turned into uncontrolled laughter by now and it was music to your ears. It's a rare thing to see him smile, let alone laugh like that. You've never seen him laughing as carefree yet involuntary like that. And you acquired a liking for it.

"Oh I totally will make you say it." To underline your words started pinching and squeezing at his hips what immediately made him squeal. You could't say who was more surprised about that reaction.

"Thihis is rihidiculous!", he bubbled between his laughter when, all of a sudden, his arms were at your shoulders and you realised he simply tolerated your cheekiness to this point- but now? He threw you off him effortlessly. You landed next to him on the bed when he bent over you:

"You're almost as merciless as a Slytherin my dear. Maybe the sorting hat made a mistake right here.", Draco chuckled, still breathing heavily but with an almost proud expression on his face.

"Don't make me do this to you again, Draco.", you threatened with a knowing smile.

"You know that I let you do it, right?", he rose one brow and looked at you masterfully.

"So you liked it?", you mocked him.

"Wha- no!", he seemed surprised. "I wanted to prove my point."

"Right. You officially proved you're pretty ticklish.", you chuckled.

"That's not-", he sighed when he realised you were messing with him again. "You know what?"

"What?", you asked, giving him your most charming smile.

He looked at you a moment in silence. "You're done." Suddenly he pounced at you and started the most rigorous tickle attack. Even though he was your loving boyfriend, he was still Draco Malfoy after all. And he wouldn't let you emerge unscathed.

"I'll stop anytime. Just admit you're smart for a Gryffindor."

#fics by aphro #tickle community #sfw tickles #tickle fic #harry potter tickle fic #Draco Malfoy tickle fic #tword content #word fic

48 notes · View notes

enassbraid · 1 year

Note

hi hello! i hope youre doing well :] i enjoy reading your writings and i love them very much <3

can i request a tsukasa x gn reader going on a date at an art gallery? whatever happens in the date is up to you! thats all thank you sm!

->𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Art isn’t one of his specialties, but the new role he was given requires artistic inspiration. What better way to find this inspiration than an art gallery date?

With Tsukasa Tenma | ty for 388 followers

Genre - fluff | cw - none, Rui is mentioned a bit, the start is a little rushed, kinda short as well…

“So you’re saying… I have to portray a painting in its beauty in this role?” Tsukasa asked a certain purple haired male.

“That’s right, but I’m sure you’re capable of that. I’ll have the script done in about two days. So get into the artistic spirit by then, yeah?” Rui replied. He had his typical cat like smirk plastered on his face, knowing how sudden his request was. But Tsukasa doesn’t have to be in the art spirit for another week or so. It was only a heads up.

The two parted ways soon after. The whole way home, Tsukasa was brewing up ideas on how he could get the right inspiration. Which leads you to now…

“What are your ideas, (Name)? Stuff like this is hard to find inspiration for without getting distracted!” Tsukasa was pacing back and forth in his room, talking with his hands much more than usual

“Hey now, calm down. Sit down and take a deep breath, we can look for something together.” You welcomed him with open arms, far too open for him to hesitate.

You opened your laptop and started searching, the aspiring star peering over your shoulder. ‘Artistic attractions in my area’ you searched. It was almost baffling how little attractions were around besides art classes.

But you and Tsukasa were persistent and determined. You continued scrolling while he examined every link that appeared.

“Wait- click that one!” He pointed at the blue text, you obliged and were greeted with a colorful page.

“An art gallery…” You realized.

It seemed pretty legit, not to mention it had pretty good ratings. Four stars with over 800 reviews, how wasn’t this one of the first links that showed up?

Clicking through every page the site has to offer, you saw how organized this place was. Through the few pictures alone it seemed so… clean. Not to mention it costed hardly anything to get in, no reservations needed. If you didn’t read through some reviews, you would have thought it was a scam.

“It’s perfect (Name)! I’m sure I’ll get all the inspiration I need there in just a few minutes. Let’s call it a date so time past those few minute’s aren’t wasted!” He exclaimed, far too excited than any other would be to visit an art gallery. But this was Tsukasa after all.

“A date it is, but don’t forget our main purpose for being there!”

“Yeah yeah, let’s just rest up now so we’re refreshed.”

Humming in response, you closed your laptop and placed it on the floor next to the bed. Following Tsukasa under the covers before drifting off to sleep.

Morning rolled around, birds chirping at the large window. You groaned at the sunlight hitting your eyes the moment you opened them, the orange boy next to you seemingly agreeing with your discomfort. Despite that, he got up and stretched his limbs after the long slumber.

He yawned, standing there for a moment before his eyes widen in realization.

“We gotta get ready!” He exclaims.

“Tsukasaaa, we have a few more hours before we have to leave. Can’t we sleep in today?” It was true, the gallery didn’t open for another hour or so. It had to be around 8 in the morning right now, right?

“We don’t have time for sleeping in! Look at the time, it’s 11 now, we overslept already!” He was definitely being a bit over dramatic. You guys went to bed a bit late sure, but you didn’t oversleep that much.

You didn’t bother getting into this debate with him, and rolled out of bed yourself. You deadpanned at him for a moment, making him shiver.

“Hey don’t give me that! Let’s just eat and start leaving, alright?” You nodded in response, exiting his room.

Breakfast was simple, but it was enough to get you through till your next meal. While you ate, Tsukasa took the time to get himself ready before you could take up the bathroom for too long. He knew your morning routine- and it took forever in his eyes. So he insisted you ate while he got ready, and he ate while you got ready. It was a fair deal.

You finished your plate the same time the bathroom door swung open, signaling it’s your turn. After about 30 minutes or so, you both were all set.

“What kind of art do you think we’ll see?” You asked, his amber eyes peering over to your figure.

“Well… definitely paintings?” He chuckled at his joke, while you let out an exaggerated sigh.

The gallery lobby felt so… clean. The floors were perfectly polished and the walls looked so smooth. A warm light filled the entire room, setting the mood for what was in this gallery. You both paid for your own entries, and were finally led to the real thing.

“Now, don’t forget the main purpose of this trip Tsukasa! We’re not just here for a date, you need inspiration for the new role you got!” You whisper shouted. Your words reminded Tsukasa of what he needs to engage in right now.

With that, he carefully inspected the first framed painting on the left. He pointed his finger at the painting, and traced it in the air. If he did this anywhere else, he probably would have been accused of his usual shenanigans.

“I see… its style. The brush strokes are visible, but they blend in perfectly at a distance. But when you get close up… it still holds that same beauty.” He remarked. He smiled proudly at himself for the understanding, and lead you over to the next painting.

He seemed a little more troubled with this one. It had less lighting than the previous painting, and was slightly harder to make out.

“Now, instead of trying to grasp the style, try grasping the painter instead. What do you think they were going for?” You asked. He appreciated your advice, he always did.

“I think… they were trying to make something distinct. Something that looks clear, but actually isn’t. The lack of light pulled that together, I can see why there’s less highlights in this one.”

Tsukasa was typically unserious, but when he was serious, he really was serious. And this was one of those moments. You can tell how badly he wants to get this role pinned down just by the way he’s looking at these canvases.

The next one was loud- figuratively. The colors contrasted each other in all different ways, and carried a more abstract look to it. Unsurprisingly, Tsukasa was quicker with this one than the last two.

“It’s colorful, full of life! I think the artist was doing everything they could to catch someone’s eye with the way the colors line up with each other. It’s bright- but still carries those shadows and highlights.” His hand was holding his chin, squinting a bit at the brightness in this painting compared to all the others.

“So… what do you think you got so far?” You asked.

“I think I understand what painters look for in their paintings. But I also think I understand where their heads are at. Some thrive for attention from others, but others prefer to work in the dark. Either way, both artists are working towards the same goal, a finished painting.” He replied.

You smiled a bit at his words. He was really determined to improve his acting skills, wasn’t he?

“So what’s next, wanna keep looking around? Or…” he cut you off.

“I definitely got the inspiration I needed! Not only that, but I got meaningful time with you as well! Let’s head home now, I need to let Rui know I got my inspiration as well.” He mumbled that last part, a little worried at what Rui wants him to do for this role exactly.

You laughed, and left the gallery hand in hand with each other. Even if it was quicker than you thought it’d be, you got to see Tsukasa in a serious yet sincere demeanor. It wasn’t something you got to see that often, and you were grateful you did today.

It was a nice reminder that despite his typical lightheartedness, he was still passionate and serious about what he does. It’s a part of him you fall in love with all over again every time you see it.

#project sekai #prsk #pjsk #pjsekai #project sekai x reader #prsk x reader #pjsk x reader #pjsekai x reader #tsukasa tenma #tsukasa #tsukasa tenma x reader #tsukasa x Reader #tsukasa fluff #dor writes

55 notes · View notes

bts-story · 1 year

Text

LOVE IS CHAOS

Previous chapters

Chapter 9 - Memories from above

You pulled back the white curtain with a sudden yank, revealing a man in his early twenties. He was lying on one of the hospital beds, several compresses in his mouth, blood-soaked absorbent cotton sticking out of his lips.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Ito. I'll be taking care of you today," you stated without much will, the weight of the long night of emergencies you had spent written on the dark circles under your eyes.

The man could not speak, he was lying motionless. He was wearing a black university outfit that was somewhat torn in some places, the collar of his white shirt stained with blood. The glasses over his eyes were cracked, a panicked look through the lenses. One of his sleeves was rolled up where a needle was stuck in it, connected to a morphine bag. There was also a beeper around his finger that monitored his heartbeat.

You had his file in your hands and as you read the information, you said, "So, Niragi Suguru, is that right?" A grunt was heard, "It says here that you slipped on the subway stairs, and bit your tongue when you fell." Another groan. "Okay, let's look at this together, shall we?"

The student straightened up on the bed and with a frantic look on his face, he looked at you apprehensively as you pulled on a pair of new latex gloves. You gently removed the cotton pads from his mouth one by one, being careful not to hurt him.

With a small flashlight, you inspected his mouth.

There was a lot of blood, his white teeth covered with a scarlet color. His tongue was so swollen that it took up most of the space in his mouth. In the middle there was a huge infected hole, redness all around and in some places the tongue turned white.

It was very odd, the way the hole had formed, something you didn't think would happen the way he described it. "Are you sure you got that from falling down the stairs? It looks more like a piercing that got infected..."

The man named Niragi muttered from the back of his throat, which you could understand as an affirmation that what he was saying was true.

It was hard to believe, and as a doctor, it was crucial to know exactly how a patient had been injured in order to determine how to properly treat them. It was impossible to get a gaping hole like that on a tongue just by running down a flight of stairs. The hole pierced his tongue, like a needle that had forced its way through.

Brow furrowed, you pulled your hands away from his mouth, seeking the student's frightened gaze. "Excuse me," you sighed in a weary, tired tone, not really buying his shit, "I can't treat you if you're lying to me."

You were tired of all those patients who didn't face their own stupidity. Just last night, a man had come in, his genitals bloody, claiming that he had cut himself while shaving. Only to find out that no, it was his dog that had bitten him while he was masturbating. You didn't give a damn about their two-bit stories, you didn't even have time to laugh about them because the workload on your shoulders was so enormous.

From your point of view, it was just a waste of time playing Sherlock Holmes to find out how their nonsense had come true, and less time spent in the shower or in your bed.

The man on the bed had an angelic face, fine features drawn with care. He had a soft but panicked look, a piercing on his eyebrow that contrasted with the shyness with which he looked at you. He avoided your eyes at all costs, as if the ember in your gaze could burn him to the ground.

"Hey, I recognize you, though! You were on the train that derailed, right?" You'd seen that same frightened face before, a face you never really would have noticed if not for the way his lips trembled every time you addressed him.

It wasn't that you were used to being wooed, drunk guys hitting on you while you were sewing their nonsense didn't count, but it wasn't that often that a man would blush so easily just at the sound of your voice. There was that pink tinge to his cheeks as blood began to leak from his lip.

Niragi shook his head from side to side, waving his hands in protest. This accident had happened about ten days before, and at the memory of that shy head avoiding your gaze, you remembered, "But... I sewed your brow back on, I think. Why did you put a piercing there?"

Indeed, on closer inspection, you could see the skin of his eyebrow tugged where you'd sewn it back on, as if the stitches had been ripped out deliberately. The piercing wasn't fully healed, you could see it clearly, where the bruised skin was still red.

You had enough experience, even if it was still short, to know that this kind of injury was often not an accident. You had already seen quite a few patients, and in any case, the emergency room was full of different cases. But this kind of wound was often the result of an intentional action.

There was a fright in Niragi's eyes as he tried to hide behind a false imposing look. His lips trembled and the blood finally trickled down his chin. The fingers of his hand absentmindedly played with the dead skin around his fingernails, and if you concentrated hard enough, you could surely hear the sound of his heartbeat beating against the bones of his rib cage.

"You didn't fall down the stairs, did you?" you stated softly, as if the realization had just hit you hard. You understood, and sadly, you completed, "And you weren't on the derailed train either, right?"

It was still impossible for Niragi to speak, his mouth on fire as his frightened gaze slowly turned into a shameful and demeaning sight. There was no point in lying now as you had unraveled the mystery around his wounds.

"Who did this to you?" You asked tenaciously, forgetting that he couldn't really talk. "Did you go to the police?"

It was too much for him all at once. He'd spent so much time hiding his pain and torment from the world, that suddenly being noticed made him lose his nerve. He had only one thing on his mind now: to disappear. He tried to get up from the bed, ready to run away as far as possible, away from his problems and away from the questions you were asking him.

"Hey whoa, where are you going?" You were trying to hold him back, pushing him back against the bed as he tried to walk past you.

He was ashamed, so ashamed to be a man who let himself be bullied like that. He wasn't a man, no, anyway, he was a nobody. A worthless piece of shit, just a piece of trash.

But he had gotten up so fast that his vision wavered, his head carried away in a tornado that spun, spun, spun. Niragi's hands were sweaty and his breath was coming hard into his lungs. The very idea of someone learning what he was going through every day, like a victim to his abusers made him feel as tiny as a speck of salt.

"Easy, easy," you pushed him against the mattress and Niragi blinked, as if trying to chase away the black dots that obstructed his vision. He hadn't reported it, but the way his mouth was eating him from the inside out was a pain that was very hard to bear.

The infection was itching, scratching and making his tongue throb unbearably.

He remained motionless on the mattress then, and looking in the cupboard of the small emergency room, you searched for some mild morphine to inject into his IV. This should be enough to ease his pain for another hour or two, without overdosing him on drugs.

You picked up a pack of new compresses, wetting them with saline before placing them gently on his swollen tongue. There was also the ointment you were looking for, which you put on the small table next to it to use in a few minutes. You glanced at the monitor that was beeping very softly over his head to check that his vitals were satisfactory enough before turning your attention back to him.

Niragi had opened his eyes again, his gaze fixed straight ahead on the wall in front of him, as if he had finally accepted the inevitability that he couldn't defend himself. "I... sorry," you apologized after a few minutes in a soft, repentant voice, "It's none of my business, I... I shouldn't have asked you all those questions."

It was kind of embarrassing to have to follow up after an accusation like that. You had been far too intrusive and even if it was just a projection of your good heart that only wanted to help him, he must have been a big enough boy to stand up for himself. You had a mountain of work to do anyway and your job was to care for the patients who came to you. You weren't a cop or a social worker.

The student didn't say anything, he couldn't talk anyway. But he let himself be treated without moving much, and once you had applied the ointment to his tongue, you gave the instructions that he should not close his mouth while the product was working. This should not have taken more than fifteen minutes, enough time for you to go and see another patient before coming back to see him.

You had gone to see an old lady in her fifties who had almost torn her finger off with a kitchen knife while cutting her carrots. The skin was split down to the bone, the ligaments and nerves visible as clearwater. All that needed to be done was to change her bandages, which had been soaked with blood for several hours.

Exactly twenty-two minutes later, you were heading back to Niragi's gurney. The patient from before had taken a little longer, and she kept moaning every time you touched her. She was a little bitch, according to you, and you would have let her know that if she didn't threaten to complain to your superior. A cunt, yes, that was the word.

"Shit, where did this one go?" The student's bed was empty, the rumpled sheets flipped over on the gurney. There was not a single thing of him left, only the bloody compresses littered the small table set on the side of the bed.

You turned around to look around, searching with your eyes in the middle of all those mattresses and patients if Niragi was not there. "Irina," you called a little further, your young colleague with very short hair and a white coat who looked up from her own patient, looking annoyed (it was a young boy who was holding his stomach, twisted with pains), "Have you seen the patient in bed 32? He was here fifteen minutes ago..."

"I don't know, Doctor Tanaka went around the beds earlier, see with him," she replied in an annoyed tone, trying to focus on the child in front of her who was giving her trouble cooperating.

So you headed to the counter where the nurses were hanging out updating all the patient files. The head doctor, your superior, was leaning against the counter, a forgotten file in his hands as he flirted shamelessly with one of the obviously embarrassed nurses. "Excuse me, doctor, did you see a young student come out of here? He was in bed 32 with an infected tongue wound..."

The doctor wasn't listening to a word you were saying, too busy giving indecent looks to another nurse who was walking by. You wanted to raise your eyes to the sky so high that they would fall off, but that was risking getting caught in the act for nothing, which would generate a reflection from him that was far too justified for your taste.

"Doctor Tanaka?" You repeated and the man finally looked at you, looking at you from head to toe as if you were nothing but a piece of dirt on the toe of his shoe. "Have you seen the patient in bed 32? Niragi Suguru?"

"Yeah, the guy wanted to leave so I discharged him." he explained in a weary tone, a smile playing on his lips as he turned his attention back to the nurse.

"But... We had to keep him at least overnight, his tongue was completely infected and -"

"Look, doctor... [Y/L/N]," he was looking for your name on your name tag that adored your chest, as if it hadn't been two years since you worked with him, "This is a hospital, not a prison. The guy wanted to leave, I let him go, okay? I think you still have work to do anyway."

It was an order to end the conversation, you could hear it clearly in the sound of his voice that left no room for an argument. Disappointed and annoyed (he really was the worst asshole in your eyes), you held back a sigh before turning on your heels.

It wasn't so much the fact that your patient's injury intrigued you, nor how and why it happened to him, but it was your instinct as a doctor that was outraged that you couldn't treat this injury properly. You knew he would have a hard time getting it to heal, and if he didn't treat his tongue right, it could lead to an irreparable fatality.

"Hey, doctor," the head doctor called over his shoulder as you began to walk away, "next time you question what I'm doing, there will be a sanction. Is that clear?"

Clear as a bell.

It was no longer your problem. Whatever you thought, Niragi's life was out of your hands and you couldn't legislate any longer on something that didn't concern you. And it should have stayed that way. Yes, you should never have met him a third time, because not only was it far too easy to call it a coincidence, but the way it happened was completely unacceptable.

"You've got a face, old girl, you do need to sleep..." Kana had said exactly one hour and twenty-seven minutes later in the absolutely dingy bar she had chosen to spend the evening. She was a young woman with very long black hair, often styled in braids, with a mole on her upper lip and always wearing make-up for any occasion, whatever it was.

You gave her an annoyed look as you sat down next to her, completely ignoring the way she was gently mocking you. "Yeah, and yet, here I am," you replied because she was the one who insisted that you come for a drink, just one drink, just to relax from the twenty-four hours of being on call that had absolutely wiped you out. It wasn't a bad idea, if only the softness of your mattress didn't seem to scream your name across town.

"Good thing I'm a golden friend and ordered you a lager, no ice, in a tall glass," she recited with a big smile on her face, proud to remember what you liked to sip on to take the edge off.

With a smile of contentment, you took the drink in your hands and once at your lips, the smell alone was enough to appreciate how this beverage would help you relax your shoulders.

You drank the beer with one sip, two, then three and finally, in no time, you finished all the liquid that went down your throat as easily as water. "Fuck, take it easy, are you nuts?" Kana commented, incredulous to see your glass empty as you set it back down on the table with a thud. You caught your breath quickly, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your sleeve. It wasn't exactly a very feminine gesture, you could admit, "Was the week really that hard?"

"You have no idea."

It was a good evening, after all, Kana always had a smile on her lips and the right word to cheer you up. Even if finally, the way she kept trying to push you into the arms of this handsome stranger who had been devouring you with his eyes for the last twenty minutes or so annoyed you slightly. "Come on, just go ahead, don't be such a buzzkill!"

"No, are you crazy? Look at me, I don't have my hair done, I don't have any makeup on, I just came off a twenty-four hour shift, I look like shit..." you were trying to argue, trying to ignore the dark eyes of this man who wasn't focusing on his own friends anymore but on you.

"That's right, if he's interested in you now, imagine his face when you come out with it..." she had that laugh in the back of her throat that made you roll your eyes.

And even though this man with short jet-black hair, pronounced facial structure and muscles visible through the fabric of his shirt, looked absolutely gorgeous (he was surely a very respectable man), you didn't have the courage to accept the advances he was making.

"A Sex on the Beach from the gentleman over there," a waiter was coming to bring you a red colored cocktail, with a straw and a cut pineapple on the edge of the glass. Kana's penetrating gaze insisted that you were far too much of a killjoy for her taste. Meeting the man's gaze nonetheless, he raised his glass in a gesture of cheers, before sipping his own drink.

"Honestly, you need to chill out, and there's a beautiful fucking stud right there to send you over the edge. What are you waiting for?" Kana was seriously insisting, and it's true that a good little one-night stand could bring you down in a way that alcohol couldn't.

But no, not then, not now. Not tonight.

"And you, you need to get off my back," you'd reply wearily, praying that she'd finally decide to move on. She still had that smile that made it impossible to be angry with her. You knew it was only her job as your best friend that made her like that, like a guardian who had to make sure your sex life didn't lose its importance.

"Are you crazy? No way," she echoed, laughing out loud, looking proud and petty.

You squinted at her, pushing the offered drink away in disgust, "I don't drink vodka anyway, so..."

Even though she didn't say anything, you knew Kana wasn't done with you. When she had something on her mind, it was very rare to succeed in changing her mind. And tonight she had decided that sooner or later she would get you to fuck a guy. It was all the more tiring to have to deal with her when you were so exhausted that you needed at least a dozen hours of sleep.

"You don't know what you're losing," she said as she took a sip of the drink, offering a nod of thanks to the guy who was chasing you from afar. You stood up, grabbing your coat and pulling it over your shoulders, your bag in your hand, "I'm not done with you, [Y/N]. You're going to give in, sooner or later."

You nodded so as not to contradict her. You didn't have the courage to argue about anything anymore, so you had to go home quickly. "Bye," you sang to ignore her accusing look, waving your hand in goodbye.

"Love you, bye," Kana called as you walked further and further away from the table.

You pushed your way through the crowd at the bar, trying to make your way to the exit. The trip home was not supposed to be more than ten minutes, but the sight of the pouring rain that was suddenly raging over the city of Tokyo made you swear under your breath. Your shoes were way too thin to keep them from getting wet, you didn't have an umbrella because the weatherman hadn't really predicted this nightly downpour (or maybe he had, but you wouldn't admit that you hadn't looked at the day's weather forecast for a few days already), and to top it all off, you didn't have a single penny in your pocket to take a bus and avoid this walk.

"Hey, wait," you'd hear far behind you as you took only about ten steps up the street. Behind you, the handsome stallion from the bar was running with small steps to catch up with you, a smile on the corner of his lips, "'Hi,'" he chuckled as he reached your level.

Unconsciously, you sighed. You already knew what he was going to say or ask before he did. Not that you had developed a mind-reading superpower, but you didn't have to be Einstein to deduce why.

"I... my name is Kenji, I have..." It seemed that in the end, he himself didn't know what he wanted to say. He scratched the back of his head absentmindedly, and he could hardly sustain your insistent gaze as you watched him intently. His voice was deep, and he towered over you by at least twenty inches, as if he had giant genes coursing through his veins. "I couldn't help but notice you in the bar earlier and..." Yeah, okay, so what? "I wanted to know if it was possible to get your number..."

A group of friends walked by you, their laughter loud and clear. You were embarrassed that you had to turn him down like that, if only he hadn't had the courage to run after you. "I'm sorry, I have to go home..."

It wasn't really a refusal, or just a way to get around a flat no to justify that in any case, he wouldn't get what he asked for. You turned on your heels quickly, resuming your walk and hoping that he would let it go.

"Please," he called behind you and you continued to walk away. "Can I at least get your name?"

It wouldn't have been unpleasant to be chased like that if only it were another day, another time. But fatigue was clouding your brain and preventing you from giving any information to this man who surely deserved a tiny chance.

"Wait, I just wanted to - Argh, what the - Argh!" He shouted behind you suddenly and with a jump you turned around to see what was going on. This man named Kenji was on the ground on all fours, head down against the ground. Next to him was another man, a little shorter than him, with hair plastered against his cheeks that stuck out of his hood, a black hoodie and in his hand, a gray box that he was clutching with all his might.

It was him. The patient from this morning with the infected tongue, standing in front of his victim, taser still activated as he looked at you with round eyes. "Oh my God," you exclaimed as you rushed over to Kenji, helping him up. "Is everything all right?" you asked but the man couldn't articulate a single word, shocked and immobilized with pain.

Niragi stood frozen in place, as if he himself could not believe what he had just done. He took a step backwards, then a second one and finally, taking his legs to his neck, he ran down the street with all his strength and disappeared in the distance.

"Who the fuck was that freak?" Kenji articulated with difficulty, trying to stand on his two legs that were still shaking from the shock.

Searching in the distance for Niragi's silhouette, you didn't have the words to give an answer to the question. Even though you knew the identity of the aggressor, you wondered how all this could have happened. What was he doing there? Why had he done this? Where had he been? How did he get there?

What made Niragi Suguru attack a man who was just talking to you?

//////// / / / / //////// / / ///// ///

Let's take this back a few years and admire how insecure Niragi was before being his now-self; kinda cute though no?

I hate ending chapters like, I never know how to do this shit -sighs-

Nageoire

#Niragi Suguru #Niragi #Niragi aib #aib niragi #niragi x reader #Niragi x you #alice in borderland #aib #alice in borderland niragi #love is chaos #Chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #aib chishiya #alice in borderland chishiya

61 notes · View notes

moopsy-daisy · 8 months

Text

Make Your Own Cosmetics, Get What You Actually Want

Once you've been in zero waste, eco friendly, solarpunk/lunarpunk circles for a while, it's easy to forget the steps you took when you started. There are lots of DIY projects I've been doing for 10+ years now, and I keep doing them because they work (for me). Yet, when I sit back and think "am I doing enough?" I always gloss over the myriad things that have become part of my everyday life.

Making these things won't save the environment, but you'll get products that meet your needs on your terms, will save you money, and you won't have to worry about a company discontinuing your favorites. Plus, it seems like a lot less packaging to just buy a brick of beeswax and toss in some kitchen stuff you already had to make makeup.

Henna

I got really lucky, I always wanted red hair and henna is a natural dye that only comes in red. Well, more of a coppery tone. But, here's the other cool thing: the henna process is anti-fungal and controls dandruff. Half the time, I remember to color my hair because my scalp starts getting itchy 6+ weeks later and I start to get flakes. Coloring my hair takes care of my scalp and I don't need dandruff shampoo to keep it healthy. It's cost-effective, buying high quality henna for a year's worth of color (for my length and thicc hair) is about $60 for 18-months' of materials. I mix it when I need it, and keep the powder in the freezer. Pro-tip, if you or your partner don't like the grassy, hay-like smell of henna, add cardamom or ginger powder to the mix. It doesn't change the color but it'll knock down the scent.

I learned everything I needed to know about Henna for Hair here: http://hennaforhair.com and buy through Catherine's store because I know I'm getting real, quality henna powder.

Oh and a cloth wrap for your hair will let you keep the henna covered without wasting plastic wrap every time you redo your roots. I've been using the same 'turbie twist' wraps for years now. I made them from old t-shirts and they're stained as fuck. Who cares? This is basically their only job.

Carmine Lip Color

No, it isn't vegan. Yes, it's made of bugs. It's also a spectacular color, the insects aren't abused in the process of gathering or raising. They're actually parasites on nopal cactus, they have a simple niche and serve it well. I learned this lip stain recipe from Humblee & Me, and have found that the anti-bacterial doesn't seem to be necessary, ymmv. A 2.5 gram sample pack of carmine from TKB has lasted me almost a year and I wear this almost daily. I find that the glycerin really helps keep my lips from drying out too badly, so I wear my lip stain even when I'm not planning on being seen by other people. I spend about $20 on lip color for a year and that's including the bottles I use to store it (tiny eyedroppers work best imo) and the glycerin. Not quite zero waste but darn close.

Note: I'm still trying to find a simple recipe for black goth lipstick that I like. So far, my attempts have had a nasty texture and aren't worth the trouble.

Eyebrow Fill

My favorite brand of eyebrow liner discontinued the best color I ever found, so I decided to make my own. Beeswax, cocoa powder, activated charcoal, and almond oil made a little pot of eyebrow fill that suits my needs beautifully. Go super light on the charcoal until you know you've got the color you want. My brows are pretty dark but not fully black, so I do a dark chocolate sort of shade. I think I made my last batch about 11 months ago and it's still half full. I use it daily, apply with an angled brush, and it's never given me breakouts or anything. I don't even wash it off, because I am lazy.

Body Powder/Dry shampoo

Growing up in California, I didn't need this stuff. Living in Oregon? Summer would be awful without body powder. It's also a nice way to have a fragrance on. Pour your favorite perfume (I love Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab oils) onto a cotton ball, put that ball in a jar with a bunch of corn starch. Shake. Leave it for a month. You now have scented body powder. It's a decent dry shampoo, too, I just brush it into my dark hair and it disappears.

Tooth Powder

There is NOTHING wrong with using conventional toothpaste if it meets your needs. I have particular reasons for using tooth powder. These include hating the taste of most toothpaste and needing to avoid fluoride because of my particular thyroid condition. (Fluoride isn't bad for everyone! It isn't ideal for everyone. Figure out what you need!) I make my own tooth powder, it works well enough for me and I don't hate brushing my teeth like I used to. 1 part baking soda, 1 part bentonite clay, some ground cloves. Mix it up, keep in a glass jar (metal will bond with the clay, bad things happen, this is why we use glass or plastic for storage). $20 of materials = LOADS of tooth powder.

Cutting Hair

It's way easier than you think. I cut my own hair and I do a graduated bob which is a little more complex than most at-home cuts. I taught myself. I use decent shears (don't use scissors) and a Wahl hair trimmer set. Learn this skill on yourself, and when people find out you can do hair, they'll come to you for their own needs. Great way to provide mutual aid (one of my parents is trans and getting haircuts in a salon would be extremely stressful for her, so I cut her hair and save her money and suffering). You could also do skill trades! I trade haircuts for massages from a massage therapist friend, for example.

Protip: Dust yourself with body powder before cutting hair, it makes the little shards of cut hair way less prone to sticking to you. You'll still want a shower but it'll just be less icky.

#diy #lunarpunk #solarpunk #carmine #henna #makeup

32 notes · View notes

themegachessatron · 1 month

Text

A Review of my time in Skyrim's Prisons (Featuring some followers): Morthal Jail

I'm back on my Skyrim prison bullshit. I can only apologise. This chapter of the review will cover Morthal, the community's collective 9th favourite Skyrim city. Will its prison fall just as flat as the city that holds it?

Arriving in my cell for the first time and I'm pleasantly surprised. Morthal Jail uses cost effective but cozy bedrolls to give prisoners a place to sleep, as well as a complimentary bucket and broom to encourage their responsibility in helping tidy their accommodations. From these we can immediately infer that the mindset in Morthal is one of community strength. Placing multiple prisoners in one cell helps build bonds and encourages teamwork, communication and friendship. Admittedly the sorts that end up in prison are more likely to simply beat their cellmates to death with their bare hands than work in-tandem with them, but it's the thought that counts.

There was space for three prisoners in this one cell, which was fortunate as Sofia and I had been arrested simultaneously (Sofia for drunken hooliganism and myself for lollygagging). Included on Sofia's side of the cell was an additional bucket, this likely serving as the simple but effective waste deposit for this cell. Also included was a basket containing five green apples and multiple sacks. Most of the sacks were empty but one of them had some salt piles inside, useful for when we needed to add salt to somebody's wounds. These simple supplies show a level of understanding for prisoner's needs not really seen in most other prisons which goes a long way to making this one feel more welcoming. Thankfully I was given an opportunity to explore beyond my cell not much later.

Less than a minute after Sofia and I had arrived in our cells, Inigo walked up to the cell doors... and simply opened them. I was at a loss for words! How had he done this? Had he used his special Khajiit powers again? Did he steal the key from an unsuspecting guard? Or had he simply intimidated the door into giving way? Well as it tuns out it was much simpler than that. He paid our bail. He had picked up some trace valuables from our adventures while I was, and I quote, "too busy scarfing dragon souls as if they were sweet rolls" and could very easily afford the rather meager bail price. Yeah turns out lollygagging doesn't incur that high of a bounty, and as for Sofia, I had asked a guard and he told me that since Morthal is such a nothing shithole drunken hooliganism is a very common offence and as such more major punishments weren't really practical for having a city with people not in prison. Still, it gave me the chance to freely observe the rest of the facilities.

Leaving my cell had allowed me to freely confirm something I had observed inside my cell. The Morthal guard leave the prisoner belongings chests directly next to the prison cells, in plain view of all the prisoners. Now, I understand that this prison is trying to build a feeling of mutual trust in its prisoners, but I fear this is far too optimistic. With the chests in this position, any wannabe escapist can freely identify where their equipment is held and try to access it without even being in the peripheral view of any guards, leading them to easily re-acquire their trusty Banded Iron Shield of the Major Knight or whatever it is they use and be more than prepared to force their way to freedom without major harm. This, much like the issues plaguing Dragonsreach Dungeon, is a major security breach and should be remedied.

I (the rather large Redguard man in the rags pictured above) then noticed that the entire prison floor in this hold was being guarded by a single solitary guardsman. Initially I had considered this lack of manpower a major oversight and a suggestion that the Morthal guard were largely lazy and/or not effectively utilized like the Whiterun guards. However, in reflection shortly after coming to this conclusion, I came to a realization. This city is a nothing shithole with a total named population of eighteen people (three of which are children). Of course there's only one guard stationed here. What few guards this city has stationed here are likely stretched incredibly thin and not very satisfied with life given they do, in fact, live in Morthal. As such, I can readily forgive the short-staffed nature of this jail.

Opposite the guard was a desk for writing legal documentations, equipped with a writer's quill, rolls of paper and multiple bottles of wine. Naturally at the sight of alcohol Sofia immediately made herself at home and then took some serious persuading to leave. Turns out having an alcohol-happy workspace in a city where drunken hooliganism is let off lightly is exactly the sort of thing to get her attention, though knowing her should have made that obvious.

The way out of the jail floor leads directly into the guard barracks with zero alternative routes and multiple guards inside at all times, which in any other hold would act as a strong defence against escaping convicts. However, with this being Morthal the nothing shithole and the guards being so few in number, every guard in the barracks when I entered was fast asleep, catching up on any rest they could possibly get. I pity those soldiers, but I doubt thieves, murderers and other more serious convicts would be as sympathetic.

On the whole, I found Morthal Prison to be a much better facility than Dragonsreach Dungeon. It has a clear intention for its captives in mind, it accommodates them well without breaking the bank and the guards (what ones are still awake that is) are very nice and understanding. There are still faults however, namely the placement of the prisoner belongings chests and the fact that this is still, at the end of the day, Morthal. Despite these though, I'd recommend Morthal Prison. It serves as a diamond in the swampy messy shithole that is Hjaalmarch.

Final rating: Seven Banded Iron Shields of the Major Knight out of Ten Banded Iron Shields of the Major Knight

Thank you for entertaining these reviews of mine. Next time we see if the Dawnstar Jail is the reason why all of the city's residents are troubled by endless nightmares.

#skyrim #tes v #tes v skyrim #Morthal #Hjaalmarch #Skyrim Prison Review #inigo #inigo the brave #sofia skyrim #I'm fucking serious about these #I will not stop #Slightly Modded Skyrim #Morthal's Prison is decent #Place's still a shithole tho

7 notes · View notes