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#that we all wanted but assumed we wouldn't get
sentientcave · 11 hours
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Retirement Party
Chapter Three - Smoke and Whiskey
<< First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco, cannabis), plus-sized reader, female reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me.
~3.2k
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When you go back inside, you wind up wedged between John and Ghost on the bigger couch. Johnny’s stretched out on the smaller one, and Gaz claimed the chair that you’d been sitting in earlier, leaving you with no other option. Neither of them makes any effort to give you more space, even though they could. Ghost’s leg is pressed against yours from thigh to ankle, and John’s pinky finger keeps finding your thigh when he rests his tumbler against his knee. You want to curl up properly, tuck your feet up underneath yourself, but you can't without pressing even closer to at least one of them. At least Ghost isn’t quite as intimidating without his mask on.
After a while, Gaz and Ghost go out for a cigarette. The chair looks inviting, and you’d like to get a little space, but Price’s arm drops around your shoulders casually, pulling you in a little closer to his side. “Relax,” he says against the top of your head. “You’re alright, doll.”
The door opens again. “Soap, we’ve got a spliff, you want?” Gaz asks.
Johnny picks himself off the other couch, grinning. “Aye. An’ then cake?”
“Fuckin’ forgot about cake,” Ghost says. “Hey doll, d’you want some of this? Cap?”
“Who rolled it?” John asks. “Because I’m not smoking one of Gaz’s joints ever again.”
“Oh fuck off, Price, I can roll just fine.”
John looks at you and shakes his head slightly. “He really can’t.”
“I can roll,” you say. “I always do with my friends.”
You can see the calculation running behind John's eyes as he adds new information to what he knows and assumes about you. You want to laugh. You almost do. Most people take one look at you, with your big doe eyes and round face and and sunny disposition and think that you're some innocent little thing. Sure, you tend to live life with your arms open, and that might come across as naive to some, but you're not inexperienced by any means. You're nearly thirty years old, you're by no means a child.
"Let's see, then," he says. "Box on the coffee table has everything."
"Does tha' mean we can smoke inside again?" Soap asks. "It's startin' ta get pure Baltic out here."
John looks at you expectantly. "Up to you, doll."
"It's not my house."
He hums. "You're stayin' a while. Might as well be. It's important that you're comfortable."
You slide to the floor and reach for the box. "Well. You'd better open a window or two. But I don't mind."
Making a fuss over the semantics isn't worth doing. You probably are staying a while. Even if John really won't force you, you'll still need his cooperation to get all your stuff loaded back into the van, and all four of them are likely headed for hangovers.
John tells them to open the windows, and leans forward to watch you break up slightly sticky buds into the grinder. He brushes your hair behind your shoulders for you, and when you tip your head back to look at him, there's something in his eyes that makes your ears warm.
Johnny drops down to the floor on the other side of the table, a crumpled looking joint hanging out of his mouth. You can see what John means about not wanting to smoke it.
"You want a drink, doll?" Gaz asks. "More tea?"
You twist to look at him, hanging over the back of the couch, that handsome face smiling. "Have you got pop? Wouldn't mind a ginger ale."
"Got irn bru too," Soap suggests. "Ye've got some Scot in ye, aye?"
"Yes."
"Didja want more?"
You level an unimpressed look at him across the table. "I should've seen that one coming."
"I'd like to see ye com--"
"That'll do, Soap," John says firmly. "She's not goin' to have sex with you."
"Might feel a bit better if she did," Soap says, shrugging. "Ah'm just sayin'."
"You're not saying anything." Gaz sets an unopened can of ginger ale on the table next to you. "If you're gagging for it, we'll take care of you in a bit."
"And if you don't behave yourself you're not goin' to get anything," John rumbles from behind you. "She's been good. Surprised none of you have been slapped."
"Just the once." Gaz snags the joint from Johnny and sits back in the chair.
Ghost snorts. "What did you do?"
"Surprised her picking her up. My own fault."
You lean back and hold up the neat joint you've been rolling, hooking your arm over John's knee. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes it, holding it up for an inspection. "Nice work, doll," he says warmly. “Got a bit of a wild streak to you, eh?”
The praise makes you glow, despite yourself, and you laugh aloud at the second part, a real laugh, not nervous or bitter. All four of them shift their attention to you at the sound, snapping a tension you hadn’t noticed until you felt it’s absence. It’s important to them that you feel comfortable, and your genuine laughter is the first sign that you’re on your way. They really did think that they’d done you a favour.
Insane. But almost sweet, in a fucked up, unsettling way.
You pluck the joint out of John’s fingers and meet his dark blue eyes evenly, not missing the hunger that sparks into existence. “Got a light?”
John pulls his lighter out of his pocket, a little awkward with you leaning on his other leg, and holds the dancing flame out for you. You have to lean in a little to get to it, so you do, your eyes still locked on his as you inhale, the slight sizzle of paper and weed igniting clear in the otherwise silent room. You can hear the way his breath catches too, taken by surprise yet again. You offer the joint back to him, holding in a lungful of smoke.
“Shite,” Johnny hisses, breaking the heavy silence. “Yer absolutely sure ye dinnae want your cunt licked?”
You blow smoke at him from across the coffee table. “I’m sure.”
It doesn’t take long before drowsy complacency overtakes you. Curling up against John’s leg, your arm still hooked over his leg, you let conversation wash over your awareness, not paying enough attention to pick out one thing or another. John’s hand settles on your head, fingers threading into your dark hair, combing through soft strands idly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, blue eyes half-lidded but still plenty aware, a funny smile twisting the edges of his mouth upwards. He has nice lips under that bristling moustache of his, not as thin as you would have expected. His voice is a pleasant rumble when he speaks to the others,
He takes a sip of whiskey, and you follow the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way the tip of his tongue darting across his lips. It takes a moment for you to realize that he’s watching you study him.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
For the first time since you’ve been there, you don’t feel scared. Just dozy and content, like a cat curled up next to a fireplace. “I’m alright,” you admit. “It’s been a strange day.”
His fingers flex, not quite gripping your hair, just holding you in place with the lightest pressure, encouraging you to keep facing him rather than turning away. “I imagine so.” His hand glides along to your ear, his thumb grazing over the shell, sending shivers down your spine. “It won’t be so strange tomorrow.”
“No more surprises planned?”
John glances up, looking at each of his men in turn, and then back to you. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“We do have cake, though,” Soap says. “Ye want some, bonnie?”
“Yes please.” You only turn to look at Soap for a moment before John is gently coaxing you back, curling his fingers around your jaw. Can he feel the way your heart leaps into your throat, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings? It’s hard to look John in the eye, but harder still to pull yourself away. His touch leaves burning traces behind, and you’re all too aware of your body and the way you respond to him. It’s all too much, too soon and too strange.
He catches your hand when you try to brush his away. “Why don’t you come on back up here, doll?” he asks. “Be more comfortable than the floor, don’t you think?”
“No, I’m happy down here.” You tuck your knees to your chest, looping your arms around your legs, extricating yourself from his sphere of influence just a little. You’re still pressed up against his calf, but you don’t need to go that far, you just need to face forward so you won’t get pinned under that blue stare again.
John has a certain gravity, a magnetism that you can’t help but be drawn in by. It would be all too easy to sink into his arms, but the idea that you’d been given to him still bothers you, like a persistent, sharp little stone in your shoe, ruining what might have been something.
You perk up some when Soap hands you a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. It's not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it tastes incredible, rich dark chocolate and an icing that had so much whiskey in it that your teeth feel funny after a few bites.
"This is really good, Johnny," you tell him. "If the whole military thing doesn't work out, you could consider becoming a baker."
"Thanks, hen. And dinnae think I havena considered it. Gettin' closer to packin' it in awl the time. Just cannae leave Gaz until he's got a good team watchin' his back."
"We've got some good sergeants," Gaz says. "Nitro's got real promise."
"Shivs too. Little devil," Ghost adds. "You need a door smasher though. Those girls are tough as 'ell, but some occasions call for a big boot."
"Aye, ye'd say that, bein' the biggest fuckin' boot the Queen's army has ever seen."
"King now," John points out.
"Oh, fuck if I care which poncy arsed Windsor is sittin' in the big chair."
"Bloody leeches," Ghost agrees.
"I've got Sanderson in mind." Gaz winks at you, like you're in on some secret.
"Gary Sanderson? Is he no' dead?"
"No! Turns out he locked himself in a cryo chamber when the bomb went off. That facility was full of 'em, all kinds of experimental tech. It was finally safe to take a team in and we found him. Nitro started calling him Roach, and it's stuck."
"He's a damn good soldier. Be good for the taskforce," Price agrees. "Would've picked him ten years ago."
"Well, he's had a nice long nap, and he's hopping mad about missing so much. He'll make a good doorsmasher," Gaz says.
"How about that Lucky kid? Nitro’s brother.” Price asks. “He looked pretty promising. Unless his luck ran out.”
Gaz hums, licking frosting off his fork. “He’s a good kid, but his problem is that as soon as Nitro’s around he lets her do all his thinking for him. Splits her focus.”
You sigh, setting your half-finished slice of cake down on the table in front of you, and climb to your feet, wincing at the ache of not moving for so long. You edge between Ghost’s knees and the coffee table and skirt around the edge of the couch wordlessly. No one stops you, and there’s no falter to their conversation despite the eyes that follow you until you disappear upstairs to use the washroom.
As you wash your hands, you stare at your own face in the mirror. You look pretty, even with your eyeliner a little smudged, and your lipstick faded to nothing. The buzz of THC is your system makes you giggle. Pretty enough to kidnap, even.
You think about it for a long moment, and then take your makeup off and braid your hair back so you can wash your face properly, and brush your teeth too. All the weirdness of the day is catching up, and all you want to do is sleep it off. The low buzz of their voices carries up the stairs when you step out into the hallway again, seemingly unbothered by your absence. There's no reason for you to say goodnight-- you don't owe them any kind of civility. But you still hesitate.
Long enough that John appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You alright, doll?" He asks. "Comin' back down?" The stairs creak slightly under his weight as he starts coming up towards you.
"I was thinking-- I'm just tired, is all. It's been a long day."
He stops two steps down, so he's still looking up at you. "I understand. We can talk more in the morning."
"I'm sure there's a lot to discuss."
"If you say so. Already told you most of what I needed to tell."
"Just most?"
He nods, and beckons you closer, a conspiratorial smile on his face. You take one halting step toward him, and then another, until you stand right at the top of the stairs. His big hands catch yours, holding you in place when he moves one step up, taller than you once more.
You stare up at him, and your breathing is turned shallow, your heartbeat rapid and heady. His eyes glitter in the dim light as he leans close, the tip of his nose skimming yours, as if he means to kiss you. Like a deer pinned under the headlights of a rapidly approaching truck, you stand frozen, unsure if you even want to move, or if you welcome the inevitable collision.
He smells like smoke and whiskey when he speaks, his lips so close to yours you can feel the soft brush of breath on your skin. "Forgot to tell you how good you look in my shirt," he purrs. "Been thinkin' to say so all night."
Heat licks across your cheeks, his words waking something dangerous in your core, something that wants his hands on you more than anything else. It’s unfair, what he does to you already, barely more than a stranger, and you want him to be a good man so you can indulge that desire without fear of consequence. It’s been such a long time since someone looked at you the way he looks at you now, an almost indescribable fondness that you haven’t even begun to earn.
“It’s a nice shirt,” you say lamely. “Thank you for lending it to me.” You don’t mention that it smells very pleasantly like him, and how it’s been a bit difficult to keep yourself from sniffing at the flannel all evening.
“You’re welcome to anything I have,” he says, and you know he means it.
“I hope that includes your bed,” you say jokingly, trying (and failing) to diffuse the intensity in his eyes. “Because I think that’s where I’m headed now.”
“Of course it does.” His thumb rubs across your knuckles, the other hand coming up to cradle your cheek. You shake, all nerves, worried that he’ll close the distance and kiss you, but he just taps his forehead against yours instead, eyes smiling. “Off you go, sweet thing. You give us a shout if we get too loud, eh?”
You swallow nervously and nod, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, John.”
"Goodnight, doll.”
You quickly shut yourself into the other room, flicking on the light while you strip down to your panties and wrap the flannel shirt around yourself again, and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a bizarre day, and the room feels strange, too open and too dark, but it still doesn’t take long to fall asleep.
Hours later, you wake at the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again. You sit up before you’re fully alert, dreams shredding apart and solidifying into reality as you blink away sleep.
“Shh, s’just me,” John’s voice comes out of the darkness, slurring slightly. You can’t see anything in the darkness, until he crosses over to the window and opens the curtains, letting in a little light from the waxing moon outside. He turns towards her, his big frame silhouetted against the scant light, humming. “Bloody hell, you’re a pretty little thing.” The soft clink of his belt buckle is far too loud in the quiet room, as is the rustle of his clothes as he strips down to his boxers.
“John, what are you doing?” you ask nervously.
“Coming to bed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “M’too old to sleep on the floor, and Gaz is on the big couch.”
“Oh. I’ll move then. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” You throw back the sheets and swing your legs onto the floor.
“No, no, stay right where you are.” He swoops over and grips your legs gently, lifting them up and back onto the bed. He smells strongly of whiskey and mint toothpaste, and the clinging remnants of cigar smoke. “We can share tonight. Get things set up better tomorrow.”
“John…”
He slides into bed beside you and easily pulls you close, strong arms wrapping around you tightly, rolling so you’re half on top of him, one hand cradling your back and the other on your waist. “Yeah, doll?” he asks.
“John, we can’t— I can’t sleep like this.”
“Shh, just give me a minute to hold my pretty girl.” He nuzzles against the top of your head. “I’m gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. I promise.”
"You're drunk," you say, holding the flimsy excuse out for him, hoping that he'll take it. You don't want to think about him meaning it. It makes going home look all the more unlikely.
"A little," he admits. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping below the soft lace of your panties to dig into soft skin around your hip. He groans. "You're perfect. Sweet and soft, so damn beautiful. I'll make you happy. I'll give you anything you want, if you stay with me."
"John! Stop that, we can talk later, just go to sleep."
"I know this all started wrong, doll. The lads got carried away. But this is right. You feel that too, don't you? We'll have to come up with a better story for our kids, hm? Something proper romantic." He kisses the top of your head, humming happily.
"Our kids?" you squeak. "Jesus, John, you can't be serious."
"Course I am. We can start trying whenever you're ready."
Well, at least now you know he's just as delusional as the rest of them. "You don't even know if I want kids."
"You do," he says confidently. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're drunk," you say firmly. "Go to sleep."
He chuckles. "You didn't say I'm wrong."
You push away and roll over so you don't have to look right at him. Even in the darkness, you're certain that your face betrays more than you'd like. It was none of his business if you wanted kids. You certainly weren't going to have them with him. "Go to sleep," you repeat.
"Yes ma'am," he says, looping his arms around you again, tugging you close to his chest. "Goodnight, doll."
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Thanks for reading!
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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inthecarpets · 2 days
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Thinking once again about how beautifully and nuanced Ryoko Kui crafted Toshiro and Laios' relationship. And how in a way the many interpretations and types of reactions say a lot about the viewers' lives and perspectives.
How sometimes two people might want to be polite, might want to be kind, but due to their differences, misscommunication and their own personal flaws they will only end up hurting each other. And the longer their misscommunication lasts, the more it hurts. How sometimes if people spoke sooner it wouldn't get to be so bad.
And how reactions say how quite much everyone been in some kind of situation like that. We assume the best and the worst intentions in each other.
We have to deal with a person who can't stop bothering us. Deal with a person who seems a little shy but they are nice but actually no, they secretly hate us. Situation where someone pretends to be a friend or for some forsaken reason forces themselves to hang out with us. When it's hard to confront someone. When we are too much. When we are in the wrong without realising it. When it's hard to be confronted. Being in a situation you wish you were confronted at the start. How sometimes confrontation is near impossible. Taking a risk of confrontation in general. Not being able to find the right words. Not being able to utter them.
Sometimes we'd all rather to point fingers and call each other names instead of realise the flaws of the world that we live in. How sometimes there Sure are bad people and bad intentions but sometimes it's also just all a bad accident with good intentions on both sides, and lack of education.
Ryoko Kui crafted such a very nuanced and beautiful story. A story with details such show the readers and viewers' feelings and perspectives and shortcomings when interacting with other people. And yeah, i think that's beautiful. Bless.
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Omg I love all your work! 🫶🏼
Can you do Fraser and Clara maybe they are dating and nobody know and Carlos catch them in her room and call Lando?
Im so sorry if my English is bad, is not my first language!
Note: thank you 🫶 don't worry about it, english isn't my first language either!
The Norris family had joined you for a family vacation, everyone travelling directly to Mallorca after the race.
"My sunburn from yesterday is still quite red, I'm going to my room and read there today", Clara reasoned as she saw everyone else get ready to hang out by the pool.
"That's smart, cariño, do you want me to reapply the cream?", you asked, wanting to make sure she was being diligent about it.
"I can do it myself - if I twist my arm like this, I can get there", your daughter exemplified before heading upstairs.
Everyone else seemed to enjoy the time by the pool, you choosing to swim instead of just sitting around until you felt something snap, "Oh! Crap!", you hissed, holding the top of your bikini to your chest as one of the straps ripped from the band around your back.
"Is everything alright?", Matilda asked you, brushing her wet hair away from her face.
"Yes, just my top strap ripped, I need to get a new one", you said as you stepped out of the pool, Carlos helping you with a towell, "Actually, amor, can you get it for me, please? I'll just get the floors wet and then someone will fall", you asked your husband.
Carlos nodded, kissing your cheek and heading up to your room. On his way there, he noticed Clara's bedroom door was open and he took a peek inside, seeing his daughter cuddled up to his friend's son. Clara's head laid on Fraser's chest, the teenagers taking a nap as Carlos recognised his daughter's book on the Norris boy's hand, his thumb marking the page.
Walking to the hallway's balcony, he waved Lando over, calling him to join him upstairs.
"Do you want me to help you look through your wife's swimwear? I'm not sure how comfortable I fe-oh! Oh", he gasped as he noticed his son cuddled up with Clara.
"Do you think they're together?", Carlos whispered.
"Wouldn't you be together to do something like that?", Lando mused as he watched his son's protective hold on who he assumed was his girlfriend.
"We have to tell the wives", Carlos said as they walked downstairs.
"Damn it", Lando muttered under his breath, "I have to tell my wife she was right about this", he tsked, receiving a raised brow from Carlos, "she has been saying that they're dating for a couple of weeks now".
"Happy wife, happy life", Carlos patted his back, "you have to tell her she was right".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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aurumacadicus · 3 days
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92 or 14 maybe? 🤔
Going with 14!
--
Prince Anthony was picking his feathers out again.
Steve wordlessly set his shield aside and walked over to grab his hands, yanking them down, away from his wings. "Your highness--"
"I know!" Prince Anthony exclaimed defensively. His wrists jerked in Steve's grip, though, back toward his wings, and he wilted under Steve's stern glare. "I know," he repeated miserably.
It broke Steve's heart, but he turned to grab the picking glove, and while Prince Anthony obediently stuck his hands in so the mouth could be cinched tight around his wrists, he couldn't help but think it wasn't fair. Maybe Prince Anthony wouldn't be picking himself bald if he didn't have to choose a suitor in the next three days.
Prince Anthony had always been put off by the cock parties, as he'd called them--"cockerel balls" had always seemed to lend a layer of refinement to them that they didn't deserve, he'd said. Mostly, it was young cocks approaching and trying to impress prospective hens, and as Prince Anthony had a sizeable fortune behind him, he'd been the one most flocked to. It had made him suspicious, nervous even, of anyone's attention. Steve had watched, heart sinking with every ball, as grabby kids who barely knew what to do with a cloaca fawned all over Prince Anthony for the chance at his wing in matrimony.
It had given him nothing but a dim view on mating parties and cocks in general, which was probably why he'd gotten away with his secret for so long. He was so visibly disgusted after each cockerel ball that everyone assumed even if he was pregnant, he'd get rid of it as quickly as possible. Only when the rumors about his sudden cravings for sardines and almonds got loud enough to reach the royal court did it become necessary for Prince Anthony to undergo medical examination. And, well, when it was found to be true, that a royal hatchling was on the way, an unwed, pregnant royal was deemed a hazard to... what was it they had said? Public decency and the dignity of the crown?
Either way, it meant that another cockerel ball had been set up as quickly as possible, and Prince Anthony no longer had the choice of saying no to all comers if he wanted to keep his financial backing, even if he plucked himself bare in the meantime.
Steve watched Prince Anthony begin to pace, feeling helpless. His prince was in trouble, and he could do nothing of import to stop it. Prince Anthony looked like a caged animal as he walked up and down the carpet. He wasn't even showing yet. Was the palace hoping to get him wed immediately and lie about the hatchling being early? Someone would be bound to talk. That's what had started this mess, after all.
"I suppose," Prince Anthony began, voice halting and pained as he turned to pace in front of the window, obviously hoping the sun's rays would help him feel better. "That Lady Pepper is. Nice enough. Could pass the egg off as hers if we married."
"I suppose," Steve agreed, hoping he sounded noncommittal instead of just bitter.
"Or. Or that kind--Bruce? I think?"
"The alchemist Bruce was very kind," Steve answered with a nod.
"Or I could... I could just..." Prince Anthony stopped in front of the window, staring outside. Then, as quickly as he stopped, he turned around, eyes wide and beseeching. "Run away with me."
Steve's mouth dropped open in shock. He blinked at Prince Anthony slowly, unable to comprehend what he'd just been asked. Prince Anthony was a well-loved public figure, and while Steve was famous for his work in the war, he'd never been... someone people wanted to see running the country. In fact, if anyone ever found out that he was the one who had henned the heir apparent, he likely wouldn't be able to see him again. Prince Anthony was royalty. Steve had clawed his way up from the streets. He was only Prince Anthony's personal guard because there had been several attempts on his life, and Steve was the best at what he did.
"Run... away...?" Steve finally repeated, still not quite believing it.
"I'm just a figurehead for this stupid country," Tony spat, hope giving way to anger. "They only kept royalty on as a tradition they didn't know how to quit, as a show. I don't have any real power. And that's how they can bully me into getting married, picking a cock I don't even like all that much to be the legitimate father of my egg--So. So let's run away."
There were many reasons why Steve should say no. The country loved Prince Anthony, for one--he was only behind his late mother in terms of charity, and was quickly gaining on her record; despite the fact that he had no real power, he always did his best to influence parliament to vote in favor of the people; and the whole country had collectively swooned when a tabloid had leaked a picture of him holding a baby at the hospital with the quote 'babies need to be held' splashed under it. Steve was a nobody, come up from nothing, and most people did not have good things to say about him coming up from nothing because of the war.
Prince Anthony's gaze was steady, though, when Steve met his eyes. He was certain of his decision. That was one of the things Steve liked about him--he knew what he wanted, and if he could get it, he eagerly went through with it. And if he couldn't get it, he was a gracious loser.
"Your highness," Steve began with a sigh.
"I don't care if we're poor," Prince Anthony continued before he could voice his dissent, the determination in his voice making Steve's mouth snap shut in surprise. "You'll take care of us. And I--I have an education. I can get a job to help. You helped make this egg," he added sharply. "Are you refusing to take responsibility? And could you really just let someone else raise your chick?"
If he told himself it was for the better, to make sure the chick got everything it needed or wanted, he probably could. Prince Anthony would love it enough for the both of them, even if his new spouse only tolerated the chick. It wasn't ideal, but then, neither was getting Tony laden with egg before marriage. A marriage that couldn't happen because of who he was and who Prince Anthony had turned out to be. Steve opened his mouth to tell him in no uncertain terms that he would not be taking the spot from a more deserving rooster.
But he didn't want to. And Tony was clearly showing he didn't want to either. So he looked up at Tony and nodded sharply. "Alright, Tony."
"Tony," he repeated in a whisper, shocked. Steve only ever called him that in bed; he needed the separation of work and intimacy, and it helped to remind Tony, too, that he couldn't reach out and touch whenever he wanted. Steve watched as Tony's mouth spread into a wide smile as he lunged toward him, hooking his bound hands behind Steve's neck and pulling him down for an overjoyed kiss just bordering on desperation. Apparently, eschewing his proper name was all the real confirmation he needed of Steve's feelings.
Steve threw his wings up in a mating display just to make sure there was no misunderstanding.
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w2soneshots · 13 hours
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Can you make a oneshot that We alsow is a fotball girl and Harry and her Are filming a penelty video and he hits her in the head and she gets a nose bleed. And Harry gets scared and takes her to the hospital but she just need som kisses and cudels
You sure? -W2S
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Words: 0.6k+
Warnings: head injury, hospitals, protective harry.
In which Harry accidentally hurts you during a football video and won’t stop worrying.
a/n: hey babe🫶🏼 I’ve been super busy recently so haven’t really had the time (or energy) to write😫. Thank you for this cute request!! I hope you enjoy🤍 (also I know nothing about football so I apologise if anything is incorrect😭)
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Me and Harry have been together for almost 8 months. We both love football and he often comes on my channel. Today we're filming a video at our local football pitch.
"You almost ready to go babe?" He asked as I brushed my teeth. "Mhm" I murmured before spitting the toothpaste into the sink. "Let me just grab my bag." I rushed through our apartment to collect the last few things I needed for the video.
We left soon after and Harry drove us to the pitch. Once we arrived we grabbed all of the equipment out of the boot and carried it onto the grass. Then we set everything up and began filming. "Hey guys! Today we're filming a penalty video and Harry's going to be challenging my goal keeping skills so let's get started!" I began. Harry did his usual awkward "yes!" And I giggled.
I assumed my position in the goal and Harry began taking shots. After almost half an hour of switching back and forth between Harry and I it was my turn to be the goal keeper again. Everything went in slow motion, Harry took a shot and before I could even process what was happening the ball whacked me right in my face. I fell to the ground with a thud as my head started to spin and something wet began to drip from my nose.
"Oh my god! y/n I'm so sorry! Shit you're bleeding! Oh nelly." Harry rambled. "Haz I'm fine, just a bit shocked that's all." I calmly stated as he helped me up. "We should take you to the hospital." He stressed. I decided not to argue as I knew he wouldn't take no for an answer. He walked me back to the car then quickly grabbed the cameras along with all of our things. Then he drove us to the hospital.
"Looks like you have a minor concussion, doesn't seem to be anything you need to worry about just rest and take it easy for the next few days." The kind nurse said as I sat next to Harry in the small hospital room. "Are you sure she's gonna be ok?" Harry asked. She nodded "if you're worried about anything just call us up or come back here." She relayed. "Yes, thank you." I stood from the chair and Harry quickly followed.
I saw him carefully glancing at me on the drive home. "Harry. Seriously I'm fine. The nurse said there was absolutely nothing to worry about." "I know, I just feel bad for you know- hurting you." He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I laughed "aw, you're such an empath."
When we got home Harry told me to sit down and so I did. After grabbing me some water and an ice pack he plonked himself next to me on the couch. I moved so my head was leaning on his chest. His hands gently raked through my hair and I slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.
The next morning I woke up in bed next to Harry, who was sat scrolling through his phone. "Morning." I whispered. His eyes shot towards me "ah, you're alive. How's your head?" He asked. I chuckled "my heads fine." My head hurt a little (which was to be expected since I'd had a football pounded into my face) but I wasn't going to mention it to Harry since he was so worried. "Good. We're definitely not filming any more football videos for a while." I pouted, putting on my best puppy dog eyes "but I don't want my channel to die." Harry chuckled "well I can compromise... maybe we can just do crossbar challenge or something." "Ok." I replied with a satisfied nod before moving closer toward him and pecking his lips. "Thanks for taking care of me Haz." He pulled me closer "you know I always will."
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Power ranking BG3 ladies based on how much I'd personally like to marry them
All main and supporting women: Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Karlach Minthara, Jaheira, Isobel, Aylin, Mizora, Orin
Plus my background babes: Florrick, Talli, Alfira, Lakrissa, Araj, Nocturne, Skoona, Adrielle, Z'rell, Roah, Nine-Fingers, and special guest star Philomeen
*Isobel and Aylin deserve to be regarded as individuals occasionally, so yes I'm wrecking that home (Alfira and Lakrissa too)
*essentially, top 10 is "women I would like to marry" and 11-21 and is "women I would not like to marry"
Quartermaster Talli. Granted she has an unfair advantage due to looking and vibing as a fusion of my IRL girlfriend and the butch lesbian who installed my new garage door 3 years ago whom I'm still mildly obsessed with. But anyway, we'd have a really great life together. We'd be able to communicate, we'd be compatible in the bedroom, we have similar values. Wife material, Grade A - the gold standard comparison for everyone else on the list.
Isobel. We'd have our tiffs (we can both be a little catty and sensitive), but overall we'd be a pretty stable match. We'd put in the work to make it last. I feel like being a cleric counts as a "job" so I appreciate that.
Nocturne. My #1 "I can fix her" pick because I think I actually can. I appreciate a hard worker, so Nocturne having distinguished herself in her uh workplace enough to become an officer is very respectable to me. We could go to therapy together. Not a perfect match, but I think we could make it work.
Lakrissa. Would be an easy second place if she didn't read so young. She's a little immature (a little over-dedicated, a little too self-sacrificing) and so she'd have to do some growing up, but I think we could make it work.
Florrick. Even though she's my #1 beloved and by FAR the sexiest person in the entire game and I would do anything to [redacted], we'd be like two brick walls getting married. We're too similar. But sheer affection and lust propel her to the top 5 anyway, even though we'd probably be married 10 sexless years before one of us finally snapped and filed for divorce.
Skoona. Assuming she drops the whole self-deprecating thing (can't stand that). She has a job, she's sensitive, she's romantic, she's humble, and she's hot. I don't think we'd knock each others' socks off, but we'd be a nice match.
Lae'zel. Extremely 22 years old and that's an issue for me. I'm also too sensitive to make it through her tough outer shell to get to the soft waifu meat inside. However, she does have amazing wife material to uncover, so I think if I could be her second wife, we'd be golden.
Adrielle. We'd have our problems as two neurotic faux-normies, but we're neurotic in different ways, so maybe we'd complete each other? She's very conscientious and thoughtful, though, which are the most important wife traits for me. With commitment and therapy, we'd make it work, but it wouldn't be the smoothest ride.
Jaheira. I don't really want to be a step parent to young kids, so that pulls her down the list a bit, but there's no way I couldn't have her in the top 10. We'd get along great; we have the same sense of humor; we're both not clingy. A good match, but not really the wife for me.
Minthara. I want her so bad but she'd eat me alive and not in the sexy way. I would let her walk all over me for 2-3 years though, assuming she didn't dump me first. Impossible to rank below the top 10, but objectively not the wife for me.
Shadowheart. Like Lae'zel, there's a lot to get through before you get to the wife material deep inside. I would also need to be her second wife. Also, I'm not doing that cottagecore shit and I cannot have that many animals in my house.
Araj. I know I called her bad in bed 2 different ways in two other posts but that's not a problem, she's so sexy and interesting to me that I know I would fall super hard for her. I too love science? We have something in common. I feel like she'd bring out a lot in me, not necessarily good things, but to be loved is to be changed? I would probably come to my senses before really risking it all though.
Alfira. I love her so much but I am no Lakrissa, I could not handle both supporting her while she pursues her artistic goals AND having to top every time. We'd be that miserable couple that lets it drag on forever because nothing is *wrong* even though nothing is *right* and wind up hating each other.
Nine-Fingers. She'd stress me out too much. Running the streets, making enemies... what if a shake-down goes wrong? Admittedly I'm tempted to live out my mafia wife fantasies with her, but realistically, I think I'd have too many nervous breakdowns to make it worth it.
Karlach. The divorce would be so epic that I almost wanted to rank her higher, but I just know deep down that we would trigger/frustrate the fuck out of each other and completely implode long before making it to the courthouse and/or altar.
Aylin. I routinely get over-stimulated by my cats brushing against my leg when I'm trying to multi-task working and listening to music, so there is no universe in which I could tolerate being married to Aylin. She's too exuberant and touchy. I would be scream-crying WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME every time she simply asked me how my day was in her usual volume. An absolute disaster, she'd smother me despite her best intentions.
Z'rell. She can have place #17 to match the 17 husbands which I would not be okay with. I'm not jealous, but I'm not THAT not jealous. She's also just really harsh and I'm a crier, so we probably would not be able to have a conversation, let alone a relationship.
Roah Moonglow. Like Nine-Fingers, but I feel like the Zhent is like, a second-rate criminal organization and so it'd be like being a second-rate mafia wife. All the stress, fewer fist-sized emerald necklaces.
Mizora. On top of everything else, she's also a corporate LAWYER... yuck
Philomeen. I would go on 1 date with Philomeen, let her start a blowup fight with me outside of [regional burrito chain], let her neg me into fucking anyway, go no contact, and let her booty call me 2 years later at 3AM like nothing happened, but I would not even slightly consider dating her, let alone marrying her.
Orin. Ignoring the whole serial killer thing that's neither here nor there, the problem is the combo of overbearing family (my #1 dealbreaker of all time) and lack of communication skills (my #2 dealbreaker of all time). Like I'd be constantly trying to get her to go no contact with Serevok and she'd never listen and she'd always be talking in fucking Dr Seuss riddles and disappearing and pissing me off.
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a big ass truck carrying like a million jars of honey got totaled by a druddigon just outside of town and the driver is a-ok his abra teleported him out in time dont worry about him BUT a lot of the jars broke in the crash apparently and its been leaking out of the truck for a while and its attracting a LOT of pokemon. WE CALLED THE RANGERS! but its apparently going to take a while for them to show up and uh i need to know whether i should like stop them?? discourage? theres probably some broken glass in that honey probably?
im assuming the situation has been handled already given how deep in the askbox this is...first off thank you for calling the rangers!! obviously i couldn't help you out with this in a timely manner, but you called the people whose job it is to handle things like this first, and that was the right thing to do.
in a situation like this, there's not a lot you can do on your own, unfortunately. being out on any road is a really vulnerable position to be in, and even moreso when there are agitated pokemon nearby. when a bunch of pokemon gather to feed, it brings up the energy in the area, and that's a really easy situation for fights to break out. you definitely wouldn't want to be nearby if moves start flying everywhere! even though a couple pokemon might get cut here or there by the glass in this situation, an all-out battle starting would be even more dangerous. the best thing to do here is just to stand back and keep yourself safe, and help direct traffic away if you can do so safely. the rangers will make sure no pokemon leave with glass on them!
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kynimdraws · 3 days
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Fellas is it gay to travel together to a dude's homeland
Yone design ref for this verse can be seen in detail here
To see the story drabbles check this tag, or if you want general Yosante Runeterra works go to this tag!
Again story rambles under the cut lol
Their travel from Navori to Bel'zhun was uneventful, the worst thing being Yone's initial seasickness at the start of the trip. Despite that Yone was quite thrilled to see the world outside of Ionia. He often wondered if this was what his brother had seen years before their last encounter. It waa also nice that K'sante recalled a few of the things he had seen in these stops (a day in Bilgewater, three days in Piltover/Zaun), so it was not a wild whirlwind of him getting lost or stranded in strange lands.
The other man grounded him, made him feel...safe. The feeling reminded Yone of how he felt at home back in his more innocent childhood days, just a little.
As they finally reached Bel'zhun, K'sante eagerly brought Yone up on deck so both could see the Shurima harbor city coming closer and closer. Unlike the elegantly branching city of Navori (Ionia being famed for melding with their arboreal environment), Bel'zhun had a different kind of structural beauty carved from the harsh wind and sand.
"We still got a long ways to go before reaching Nazumah, but welcome to my homeland!"
Yone smiled. The morning heat was overwhelming and the lack of spiritual energy, a presence taken for granted in Ionia, was very different but not unwelcome. This was the lands that shaped K'sante, and he did join him because he wanted to know more.
In Bel'zhun, they take a few days to prepare for travel. K'sante even takes Yone to a bazaar where he sees a Nazumah cloth merchant selling their wares. There he buys Yone a travel cloak as a gift. Yone immediately wears it, feeling less out-of-place in his Ionian garb. He noted that the cloak's weight was heavy enough so it would not be blown too easily away by the strong desert wind and gave him decent protection from the sun. It was also...much thicker than what he expected for desert wear. Werent they supposed to be lighter to be cooler? In fact, K'sante kept wearing his thick gear even in the heat...
"Wouldn't your clothes be a hindrance while we travel out through the desert?"
K'sante laughs.
"Daylight is ideal for short hunts and trips. Longwr travel is done when the sun is low. Trust me, the desert isn't all heat."
Yone inwardly chastises himself for assuming, and nods.
After their prep, the two set off to the southwest with several other travelers going in and out through Bel'zhun for various businesses. And just as K'sante said, the desert certainly was much colder at night...and the cloak was perfect in keeping Yone warm. By day they would take shelter in the shade produced by the ruins or crags of rock that stuck out in the dunes. All were apparently remains of ancient wars and civilizations, according to K'sante.
It was hard work trekking the desert. For Yone, the best part of traveling was around dawn, when the sun would rise and they would settle for the day. No matter how tired the two were, K'sante would talk about some folk tale or a story he had related to the area they were at. He was very expressive during these moments, pointing out to the skies, the landmarks, or just making gestures to emphasize his narration. Regardless of what he did, Yone would listen, and quietly place his hand over the other man's own whenever K'sante used it to bring Yone closer to him. This often happened when his storytelling got intense. Initially K'sante would apologize about it, but over time the two didn't even bring it up.
After all, they felt like they belonged, being together like this under the vast sky as life went on around them.
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okay so we know that if reader tried to be creepy towards yves about sexual stuff he would cut them off (and/or traumatize them if they went even further).
but what would happen if yves set up their perfect meet-cute, they started dating, and after a while reader tried to initiate sex. and yves is like oh, no. explains his whole thing about only doing it like once a month, and on his terms. and reader is like oh, okay! i totally respect that!
and then the next day, they sit down for dinner, and reader essentially tries to break up with him? basically just saying i don’t think this will work out between us, i’d really like a partner who i have very regular sex with even if not every day, but you’re really cool and really nice and i’d love to stay friends :)
how would yves react? i feel like he wouldn’t traumatize them because they didn’t actually do anything wrong, but he’s also been super clear about being monogamous so he doesn’t seem like the type to allow reader to pursue a sort of fwb relationship on the side? that is, if reader even wanted to have a side relationship just for sex, they might only want one relationship and need it to be both romantic and regularly sexual.
another thought that’s sort of tied to this: what if yves was dating a reader who, because they couldn’t successfully initiate sex and were told not to try ever again the one time they tried, and because yves so rarely initiates sex, started feeling really self conscious and like they aren’t worth having sex with? like even with yves being such a sweetheart and loving on them all the time, the lack of sex really gets to them and makes them feel undesirable?
sincerely, a very shy anon (who is Constantly Horny and also gets insecure)
Tw: sexual stuff, drugging
The thing is, Yves would have already known that you're seeking for a more sexually fulfilling relationship with someone. It depends on your personality, is it a must that you have to touch him in ways he wished you wouldn't? Is it a must for Yves to touch you in ways he rather not? Even with his 'interventions'? Then, Yves has no choice but to let go of the idea of being your romantic partner. It doesn't mean he will abandon you, he will assume the role of a smothering monster-in-law.
However, if he already knows the ins and outs of your body, the limits of how much he could drug you without any adverse effects, Yves wouldn't mention about sex at all. He would take it slow, letting the relationship progress until you're comfortable to discuss such proclivities or attempt to make the first move. The longer you're with Yves, the more you feel loved and spoiled by his riches and acts of services.
But... By the time you would usually feel undesirable due to a lack of sexual initiation from Yves, you would find yourself saying "yuck" to anything related to genitalia. Perhaps even feeling glad that Yves didn't see you in that light yet, dreading the day where you have to say no to him.
Hell, maybe you wouldn't even care to initiate it either, you somehow lost interest in something you used to crave badly and you don't know why. The idea of it feels... Dull, boring and maybe overbearing, it's like eating the same meal repeatedly to the point it makes you nauseous thinking about it. The thought of being horny and getting off your bed to work for that orgasm makes you go "Ugh, do I have to?"
Assuming that you masturbate to alleviate your frustrations, you suddenly find that your stimulating toys would just not do it for you anymore. Neither would your fingers, nor pornography. You just feel... Nothing. No tingles, no drive and no desire to chase that high you were once addicted to. It feels tedious as if you're doing a soul sucking chore, you would rather cuddle with Yves instead, fully clothed too with each other's hands away from the major erogenous zones.
You wouldn't notice it. The change would be so gradual that you wouldn't realize your favorite sex toy is collecting a layer of dust under your bed. The idea of Yves going anywhere near your crotch never crossed your mind, why would it? You're not interested in doing the tango with him and neither is he, and you would like to keep it that way in order to avoid the awkwardness of rejection.
You never visited your favourite erotic sites anymore and you're not yearning for that excitement, you have lost a core part of yourself and you are none the wiser.
And that's how Yves likes it; to let yourself be pampered by him in every way except one. What you don't know will never hurt you.
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thewigsnatcher764 · 3 days
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--A TRASH BEAST ANALYSIS--
{-BY THE SNATCHER-}
°~INTROOO~°
Okk sooo remember when I did a post Chapter 94 and went on a little rant about how trash beast could operate? Well, In this post I'll take that idea and expand on it more. I'll also be adding more ideas...! (This post is mostly speculation and pondering but I hope you still enjoy my mess of ideas!!)
/×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×/
ALRIGHT, SO THERE ARE THREE MAIN IDEAS I WANT TO EXPAND ON HERE:
— Contaminated/Polluted areas and how that could affect the trash beast's forms and characteristics.
— The different types of negativity that supplement the creatures and how that can possibly modify their traits.
— The plausible reasons as to why trash monsters are so aggressive and violent towards humans.
LET'S GOOOOO!!
//×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×//
°~HOW CONTAMINATED AREAS AFFECT TRASH BEASTS~°
We all remember the first few chapters right? Rudo landed in the intensely polluted area, so unbreathable you had to put on a full-face gas mask just to not choke.
When we first see thrash beasts, THEY'RE FUCKING GINORMOUS. BIG, SCARY AND VIOLENT. The walking definition of a monster. They attacked on sight and don't give up on their targets easily.
At this point in the story, we simply assume that all trash beasts act this way. We haven't learned of the different levels of contamination so we just go along with it.
UNTIL... WE GET TO THE MOST RECENT CHAPTER.
All of a sudden, trash beasts are smaller, slimmer, faster and... Animals!?! The beasts are suddenly mimicking real-life species. In this case, their cheetahs (I think...)and act exactly like them.
But what makes this interesting is that we're not in the intensely polluted zone anymore! We're in the semi- contaminated zone, an area where you only need to put a normal face mask.
This insinuates the fact that a trash beast's physical power is altered depending on the level of contamination in it's area.
-So the power level should look something like this-
INTENSELY CONTAMINATED: These are the most powerful creatures we've seen so far. They're humongous creatures that hunt alone or in small packs possessing monster-like physique and power.
SEMI-CONTAMINATED: Animal-like creatures that hunt in extremely large packs possessing characteristics of real-life animals. (But It could be possible that there are monster-like trash beasts in the semi-area that are simply smaller)
NON-CONTAMINATED: Given the lack of pollution, this is the only area that has actual animals like cats, rats, horses, etc. Though it might be possible that there are miniature trash beasts(Though I doubt that fact...)
✨MINI TANGENT✨ I did research on this and apparently, cheetahs will only hunt in groups if they're in a coalition to attack larger or more dangerous prey. This suggests that trash beasts (or at least the semi-contaminated ones) View humans as dangerous. Because if they viewed them as simple prey, the cheetahs wouldn't bother creating a coalition since they only bother with that if the prey is big and dangerous. (Normally cheetahs are solitary hunters) So why do they view humans as dangerous? ✨ END OF TANGEANT✨
//×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×//
°~DIFFERENT TYPES OF NEGATIVITY (ANIMA) AND HOW THAT AFFECTS THE MONSTERS~°
In the early chapters of Gachiakuta, Enjin explains to Rudo how trash beasts are made:
" Here on the ground, trash accumulates quickly...And so do feelings and emotions...Anima. Sometimes, that gets converted into energy which causes a variety of unusual phenomena. One of these is the birth of trash beasts. They always attack humans on sight. Generally, they live in the garbage dump outside of town... but every so often they'll invade the cities."- Enjin
I'm not gonna put the whole thing since some of it doesn't connect to what I'm saying. Essentially, negative Anima fuels trash beasts and positive Anima fuels Vital instruments(Jinkis).
But could the percentage of the types of negative feelings in the converted Anima affect the trash beasts physically?
What I mean by this is for example: the percentage of negative emotions in a polluted area is 50% sadness, 40% anger and 10% fear. When they get converted to Anima, instead of the beasts resembling a ferocious monster. Do you guys think it could look more... sad? Its roars would sound more like cries, more sluggish movements, you guys see the vision?
The main emotion making up the Anima could be reflected in the monster's demeanour.
Now if my theory is right, why haven't we seen trash beasts with a more melancholic or scared demeanour? Well, it's simple: trash beasts reflect the population's feelings, right? The story has made clear that the people of the underground are angry: They're mad at what they have been reduced to because of the ones living above them. So obviously all that anger is concentrated on the MAX which affects the monster's power.
AND FINALLY...
//×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×//
°~THE PLAUSIBLE REASONS AS TO WHY TRASH BEASTS TARGET HUMANS~°
Ok so for this part of the essay, I'm really pulling stuff out of my ass😭😭. I wouldn't be surprised if I was wrong on all of these but it's fun to make! I'm theorizing there are two reasons why trash beasts are targeting humans: for energy or due to the projecting of the citizens of the city.
-HOW CAN HUMANS FEED TRASH MONSTERS, WELL I HAVE TWO IDEAS-
- FOR ENERGY: All humans possess some amount of negativity in them. Whether or not they are a good person, it wouldn't be surprising if they hunt them for energy purposes. After all, animals hunt for sustenance, right?
- PROJECTION: Remember when I explained that trash beasts could be reflecting the population's anger? We all know that the majority of that anger is towards the people on top. Whether it's internalized or forward, anger is anger. You can imagine that a lot would wanna cause pain to them...So what if those violent thoughts get turned into Anima which powers up the beasts? Given that Anima is something that was converted, some of the specifics of that anger might have sorta got lost in translation. So when a trash monster sees a human, they won't be able to differentiate between the underground and the people on top.
All the creature really knows is that the anger is towards humans, and so they attack.
//×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×//
°~OUTROOOO~°
AAAAAAHHHHHH THIS WAS SO FUCKING LOOOONNGGG. I hope you guys enjoyed my overthinking brain!
See you in the next one!
💕💕💕💕💕
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I feel like I'm peter parker's newspaper boss with the logging off computer vine. Every time I think we're done, there's no more new Kathony, something NEW pops RIGHT TF UP on my timeline when I haven't EVEN had COFFEE YET
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Ignore all logistical considerations of "would they ever meet each other under these circumstances". If you don't think Jules Bashir would have chosen to join Starfleet, imagine he is on the station for some other reason, or they meet in some other location.
I wanted to make this poll because I've seen various fics where Garak reassures Julian that far from being upset over him being augmented, Garak is grateful for it, either explicitly because (he thinks) they wouldn't be able to have their usual conversations if it weren't for the augmentations, or simply because he likes Julian "just the way he is" and wouldn't want him to be "different". I disagree that Garak would think like this (or at the very least, I think Julian would react negatively if he did, rather than be reassured), so I wanted to hear everyone else's thoughts.
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tardis--dreams · 4 days
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Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes
#also my colleague (the girl i had my shift with) is the exact opposite of me in all aspects. asked me if I'd ever worked in customer service#because i couldn't care less about being fake friendly to assholes and don't care if they like the service or not#like bitch those people don't have any other choice but drink our fucking coffee it's not like I'm competing with anyone#or like they pay us in any way. i get paid for doing the dumb work i have to do not for stroking some dumb ass doctors' egos#they come out of their rooms once an hour to get coffee and we have the cups on the table and i wouldn't even Think of#HANDING them the cups and smiling sweetly at them and asking 'coffee? tea?? :))'#I'll just assume these grown adults will get their stupid coffee or tea when they want some. it's not like they don't know where it is#(and i AM friendly and smile when someone is coming in our direction but why the fuck do you need to get so disgustingly friendly with them#if someone held up a cup asking if i.want some coffee I'd leave immediately even if i came just for coffee. it's creepy)#anyway. she's nice. I'm not.#there's normal people who will get their coffee and maybe ask if the milk in the little jug is cow milk to which I'll happily reply 'yes#:)'. then there's the other people who see the oat milk and make it clear they are the most insufferable people on the planet#(and i pity their patients so much. not much to choose from i guess but if i had that as a doctor I'd happily just die)#like everyone who took oatmilk could do it without making a fuss about the cow milk on the table. the cow milk lovers could never#'the oat milk is in front of the actual milk. this is unacceptable. i hate such healthy bullshit' lol okay#'OAT milk?? I'll leave this to the horses! THANK GOD you have actual milk!'#my favorite was the one who really took personal offense with its sheer presence. as if it had killed half of his patients lmao#'we had 50 patients with xyz problem. ALL of them drink oat milk. they cannot see the connection. it's really unhealthy'#at this point i just said i didn't care and stopped paying attention and he started complaining to his doctor colleague about how#oat milk is advertised to be healthy and how it's actually the opposite and i just find that very funny compared to the first comment#from that one guy who doesn't like such healthy bullshit. you guys need to find a consensus on the oatmilk issue i think. no one takes you#seriously if you contradict yourself like this. also i couldn't care less about the healthiness of the milk alternative of my choice. bitch.#next week I'll end up killing someone. i hope they all die from their cow milk. (but not the ones who took cow milk and didn't say anything#about the oat milk. they can continue living as they didn't annoy me)#void screams#some of these doctors were actually quite nice (most of them even). one even brought an applicant to us telling her to get some coffee#(which we are not allowed to give to applicants. but i don't care. I'd rather they get something than some of the asshole jury members#who hate oat milk (which is not the issue. the issue is them making it everybody else's issue that they don't like oat milk))
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mikopikopon · 8 months
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People don't explore the idea of "Alhaitham is Nabu and Kaveh is Deshret" enough
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kuzcoskingdom · 13 hours
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it is both so funny and so sweet to me that chicha's first reaction to kuzco, when all she even knows about him is pacha's claim that the emperor was too busy to see him, is "wow that guy is such an asshole, wtf is wrong with him, doesn't he have any manners?? that makes me so mad i've gotta go angrily wash something" and then their first actual interaction is when, after hearing that he got turned into a llama and they have to help him, she instinctively knocks him out with a frying pan. and then their second and last on-screen interaction is after a timeskip where she has now presumably heard the entire story of how he was going to destroy their village to make a theme park. but she still symbolically invites him into her family by giving him a lovingly handmade poncho that matches pacha's and hugs him and then by the time of the emperor's new school she is willing to let him live with her and treats him like a son.
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kingdomoftyto · 3 days
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...BIG FEELS AND BIG PLOT DEVELOPMENTS AT THE END OF THAT BOOK, HUH
#Tyto reads WoF#i know it's not the most pressing issue what with the vengeful ex-Queen and the murderous sister and all#but I still want to point out how alarming it is that the new crew are all going to be wearing seemingly radioactive rocks as jewelry now#Turtle please don't pick up strange rocks that give off their own heat for the love of all that's good#ANYWAY yeah what the actual frick is going on with Darkstalker huh. I genuinely do NOT know whether he's trustworthy or not#desperately lonely and unfairly demonized? absolutely. truly cares about Moon as a friend? I think so.#capable of integrating peacefully into modern dragon society without letting his own ego turn him into the monster he denies ever being?#....... 😬 remains to be seen#god and there's Scarlet's mysterious new accomplice(?) with the maddeningly vague physical description and also THE SCROLL(!!!!)#and i just realized we failed to get resolutions in this book for EITHER the vision of Turtle attacking Anemone OR#Flame's unique and frightening ability to sense and/or attack mindreaders????#where the HECK are we going with Flame I am going lowkey INSANE over him#ugh frick and Umber and Sora are both on the run too...!! this book is nearly as cliffhangery as Dark Secret#(though thankfully i prepared for this by checking the next book out ahead of time so i wouldn't have to wait LOL)#uhh buhh final thoughts before i force myself to go to sleep:#I love Moon and everything going on with her but I do feel like on some level it's even more of a slap in the face for poor Starflight#that the only tribe to get multiple POV characters in this first. like. extended arc(?) appears to be the NightWings#and Starflight himself doesn't get any of the tribe's unique defining features or abilities#i mean i guess the same is sort of true of Sunny and yes i know it was the POINT of book 4 that the tribe had no powers#but still idk it just feels like kicking the poor boy when he's already down. in addition to him literally getting beaten up again#(... now watch me be a total fool and the arc actually extends past book 8 or something making this point moot lol)#(I'm only assuming it ends at 8 bc that's where the previews in the back of the previous books have stopped)#EDIT: LOL yep turns out this arc does extend out to book 10 and the other POVs are Turtle and Qibli so I stand corrected.#that's what I get for nightblogging
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