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#It turns my brain to soup in the best way.
thepatchycat · 2 years
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Bee-loved
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lindenmori · 2 years
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since the "switch to firefox" posts are increasing in number again and i hate how some of them are phrased:
please, please. before you say things like "oh simply do your work stuff in chrome and use firefox for the rest!" think about how autistic people exist and how much they cannot simply do that. having to have this environment that should have been constant and handy changing back and forth is daunting for someone who needs routine things (like Using Your Computer and Browsing The Internet) to stay consistent. the idea of moving all your bookmarks and autofills and everything is daunting for someone who has executive dysfunction.
what helps: tips on how to make it look and feel the exact same and to move everything automatically. developing an extension/fork to make it look and feel the exact same.
what does not help in the fucking slightest: "oh just do it its easy you wont even notice the change! 😇"
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fushigurro · 17 days
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𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙈 / 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙈. — 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖨
𝘕𝘌𝘟𝘛 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ・ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ・ 𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛
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𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ sfw, but minors dni (potential for nsfw continuations) / jjk manga spoilers / this is my version of "came back wrong" gojo inspired by recent events, but it turned out somewhat softer than i expected / what happens when satoru is brought back and suddenly finds himself deeply attached to you of all people?
yandere!gojo / he's also slightly higher-needs disabled coded… idk i tried to approach it as best as i could. it's an unfamiliar thing for reader and they're trying to process it / i very well may try to continue this because it is rotting my brain!! / 1.7k words
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“Satoru… you need to eat.”
A full bowl of soup sits on the table before him untouched, his hands resting unoccupied in his lap and eyes trained on your figure as you circle around to stand near him. That piercing blue gaze is ridden with innocence, lips parted like those of a quizzical child, but they turn upwards into a pleased grin when you take a seat in the chair next to him.
You’d prepared a rather simple dish, something you figured might be easy for him to consume and digest given his… peculiar state, but Satoru apparently had yet to pay any interest to it. He instead sat obediently in his chair just as you had commanded several minutes ago, unable to initiate the task of feeding himself, for he was much more intrigued from afar by your every move as you tidied the kitchen. It was as though he couldn’t find the drive to function unless you were within an overwhelmingly short distance of him.
Satoru’s heart thumps now that you’re close, a burst of satisfaction rushing through his brain. Dopey yet stimulating chemicals. You are Pavlov’s ringing bell. 
He is reminiscent of a child picked up from school by their beloved parent, or a puppy being reunited with its owner after a day at the vet, overcome with joy and unable to properly contain it. He leans forward and presses his lips to your neck as though that is the appropriate response to his elation, the crossed wires in his brain telling him that this is the sort of affection that will please you and is therefore the sort of affection he most desperately wants to give.
His condition was difficult to understand, and you wouldn’t call yourself properly equipped to deal with it, but there was simply no other option but to try; Gojo wouldn’t let anyone else try, the horrible rattling in his skull consuming him when deprived of your presence for too long. Yuuta had described the look in his eyes as “frenzied and lost.” You were told that the infirmary still needed repairs.
Once he returned to this world, Satoru had been stripped down to his essence, bare bones, a creature of instinct, reduced to something quite simple yet difficult for the average person to understand. But you had to understand, or try at the very least. This was the new burden placed upon your shoulders; it was either soothe this new version of Satoru Gojo for the sake of the world, or find a way to send him back into the icy arms of death. You were often caught between which option sounded worse.
However, when met with the sweetest and most earnest of his smiles, your bones were frosted with guilt, and you regretted ever entertaining the idea of letting him go again.
You stumble over getting him to perform necessary tasks and be further than 5 feet away from you at any given time, because it seems that, upon his revival, Satoru equates you and only you with everything of importance in his life. It’s more than a little unnerving given the fact that you’d never so much as even kissed prior to the loss of him, and now his neurons only fire off every happy memory he’s ever had of you, every positive thing he’s ever felt, no matter how stifled. You are his entire world now, and he can’t even verbalize it, but as each day passes following his awakening, you’re starting to gather that much on your own. You can’t be frustrated for long, however, because his cheerfulness is contagious, his enthusiasm making you feel loved even if it is somewhat smothering.
Is this selfish of you? 
The man's lips travel slowly across your skin, pacified by your presence, your taste, and ignoring the grumble in his stomach. How does one differentiate the types of hunger? You don’t attempt to fight him off, but rather exhale a defeated sigh in response. It hasn’t been long since you’ve been tasked with this responsibility, but it feels as though you’re frequently fighting a losing battle and failing him all the same. It’s so peculiar, so very unnatural… but still, you have to try.
“Satoru, please…” you beg, voice light in his ear and a hand settling at his nape. His nerve endings come alive every time his name leaves your lips. The bell. “Just one bite? For me?”
That seems to do the trick, as you’ve gathered. Satoru pulls himself back, hyper-aware of the tone in your voice and suddenly willing to comply. He’s more than eager to accept the spoon into his mouth when you offer it, placing your fingers beneath his chin and carefully bringing the soup up to his lips. He swallows it with ease, the task literally more palatable now that you’ve reminded him of how badly you would like him to complete it. Anything for you.
“There,” you say, satisfied and offering a faint, exhausted smile. He grins widely in response and hums, no longer capable of words of his own, but his simple noise expresses his glee with efficacy. Satoru decides to punctuate it by pressing the tip of his nose to yours for good measure.
It feels wrong to enjoy these subtle moments of intimacy with someone who doesn’t appear to be in his right mind, but who are you to say whether he is or not? There’s still an agency he possesses, a heart full of emotions, and a mind teeming with thoughts that you wish you could be privy to. He might be different now, but part of you wants to say with certainty that the old Satoru is still here with you somehow—you can sense it. He chuckles at particular images that flash across the TV and still gets a kick out of teasing you to some degree. To diminish that seems like a disservice to him.
You’re unable to deprive him of the happiness your closeness provides nonetheless; in fact, it’s obviously rather dangerous for you to even try and do so. Satoru’s conscious recollections are filled primarily with you, but his body is still more or less the same as it always was—the vessel of his clan’s power, the strongest sorcerer on earth. You’re not sure to what extent he remembers how to control these abilities, but part of you doesn’t wish to find out. For now, you care for him, placate him, re-learn him. Nothing is certain about the situation other than the fact that he apparently needs you now more than ever.
Your eyes soften at the warmth he exudes, and you wonder if he really remembers who you even are—or were—to him. It’s not worth pondering over for now, however. He needs to eat.
“Another?” you ask, testing to see how willing he is to fulfill your wishes. Satoru often easily complies once you’ve expressed satisfaction in him doing so, but all of this is still so new and experimental; you never know when he might decide to switch gears.
However, still smiling, he nods, and you bring another spoonful of soup up to his lips for him to swallow. It pleases you to see him finally getting something into his stomach, and he can sense it, taking it upon himself to further your agenda and simultaneously realizing just how gratifying it is to fill his belly.
“Good,” you say, and he feels rewarded. He is crowned by your praise. Exalted. You take him to the greatest heights with the simplest of words.
You place the spoon back in the bowl and Satoru takes it in his grasp, feeding himself without quarrel while you observe. Most of his motor skills appear to be intact as far as you’ve seen despite the cognitive and behavioral changes, and if someone were to look upon him from afar, you’re fairly certain they would never know the difference. But you’re still trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together little by little, deciphering each bit of information and also determining just how deep his severe attachment to you really goes.
Why did it end up being you? Why do you suddenly seem to be the only thing that makes sense to him in this entire universe?
You can’t answer that, he can’t answer that, it’s just the way it is. Satoru doesn’t need to know why you nearly consume his every thought, he just knows that you make him happy, and that’s truly all that counts in his version of the world. He’ll chase it on instinct until death decides to take him again; he’ll tear down anything that stands in his or your way, for you alone are all that he thinks he has left to cling to. Never matter the others that show concern for him—they’re nice enough, earning a small smile or even the privilege to touch before he shakes them off and seeks you out again. It’s nothing personal. It’s simply pathological.
Leaning an elbow on the table, you turn the possibilities over in your mind as you silently watch him eat. A life has been restored, but yours has been turned upside down, and you have to figure out just exactly what you’re going to do about it. You suppose that taking baby steps ought to be the best way to make progress, but how do you make space for someone like this out of the blue? You’ll have to give it your best shot.
Satoru finishes drinking down the remaining broth of his soup, and you pose a question. “Would you like to go for a walk with me today?”
He sits the bowl down and looks over at you, eyes assessing your features and mind processing what you’ve asked. He hasn’t been out much in the days following his return, but you don’t see any reason to keep him cooped up inside if he happens to respond well to a casual outing with you. Taking him for a stroll outside seems like a decent way to test the waters.
Satoru smiles and nods, recalling memories of how your hair looked when touched by the wind. He’d be glad to accompany you outside if it meant he could see you glow in the sun, radiant and warm. The center of his universe.
“I think it’ll be nice,” you remark with a grin, an ounce or two of weight being lifted from your shoulders at the positive shift in outlook. Baby steps.
Reaching out to take your hand, Satoru squeezes it in his own to convey his agreement. It’s as if he’s trying to say, “everything is nice when I’m with you.”
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midnightsxblue · 29 days
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VIRGINITY (PART TWO)
carl grimes x fem!reader
(you and carl get some alone time.)
tags: p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t recommend yall)
masterlist here!
read part one here!
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The day you lost your virginity, everything seemed so…weird. Rick and Michonne had planned to go on a run for a couple of days and the two of you were left with Judith. You’d both asked for advice from Glenn and Maggie and while you got some pretty good advice, Carl got an awkward conversation and a condom.
This was your chance. That morning, you and Carl woke up early to say goodbye to them. “The two of you are gonna be here with Judith, okay? I have Daryl sort of keepin an eye on you so behave.” Rick tells you, packing some cans of food from the pantry into his bag. You look to Carl with sort of an annoyed look. He returns the same.
“Understand?” You both turn to Rick and nod. “Yeah we got it.” Carl replies. Now you had to figure out a way to get Daryl off your back as well. “I trust ‘em.” Michonne approaches from behind you, putting her hand on your shoulder while giving you a smile. You smile at her back, knowing you’re kinda lying to her. But you’re a horny teenager. You gotta do what you gotta do.
“Well…I’m sure they appreciate that. We gotta go.” Rick tells Michonne, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He makes his way through the house, the rest of you following after. You give them their hugs and say goodbye. Once the door slams shut, Judith starts crying. Screaming at the top of her fucking lungs.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hold your head in your hands, unprepared for the headache about to overtake your brain. “Hey, don’t be stressed. We can use this to our advantage.” Carl smiles and picks up Judith as she sobbed, also grabbing a couple toys before walking out the front door. You watch him walk all the way over to the armory to hand her off to Olivia.
When he disappeared into the faraway house, you turned around to find something to do. When you do turn around, you’re met with Daryl. “Jesus what the fuck!” You practically jump back, Daryl just looks at you like you’re crazy. “Don’t do that, holy shit- where did you come from!?” You put your hand over your heart and try your best to catch your breath. “The back door.” He just stares at you till you’re done. You finally catch your breath.
“Do I seriously need to watch over the two of ya or can I go work on my bike?” He asks, you sort of hesitate for some odd reason, you felt bad for lying. “We’ll be fine. Probably gonna make some soup or something and I might go to the range later. I dunno what he’ll do, probably clean his gun.” You shock yourself with how elaborate that lie was. He nods. “Okay. I’ll see ya.” He made his way out the front door.
─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───
A little later, Carl came back and met with you in your guys’ room where you were changing. He closed the door behind him and you turn around to smile at him, your shirt sliding off your arms. “Whatcha doing?” You ask with an endearing smile. He walks a bit closer. “Looking at you.” You giggle at his response. “You mean watching me change? That’s a bit perverted don’t you think?” You rummage through your closet for another shirt.
“I don’t think so.” He slowly comes up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist. He lodges his face into the crook of your neck where begins to plant harsh kisses. “Stop looking.” He tells you, lowering your arms from the clothes you had in your hand. You turn to face him and he smiles once you do. “You’re so pretty.” He puts his hand up to hold your cheek while he pulls you in for another kiss. This one was soft, the kind of kiss that really meant something. A feeling in your stomach told you things would only get better from here.
The kisses continue, only getting more intense and eventually his tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a small moan and you can feel him smile at that as he kissed you even more. You feel him pull you a little and you follow, your mouths still intertwined. He quickly spins you and plops you on the bed. He seemed confident on the outside, little did you know he was extremely nervous. You sit back with your arms propping you up and he leans in to kiss you again, his hands going straight to the buttons of your jeans. It’s quickly unbuttoned and he starts to tug them off you, standing to discard his own shirt as well.
Looking at him like this drives you insane. His messy hair, swollen lips, and the very obvious boner confined by his jeans. You were both scared and excited. Carl on the other hand was just really fucking horny. He got on the bed above you, one of his knees between your legs rutting against your clothed cunt. You let out yet another small moan and this prompts him to pull away and reach around to your back to unfasten your bra. Or try at least.
He was new to this, you can’t blame him. He fiddles with the clasp in a frustrated manner. “I just wanna see you.” He frowns, upset at himself for not being able to successfully take your bra off. You look at him with a sly smile. He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours, his hand freezing in place as he accepted defeat. “Could you help me please?” He has a defeated tone and you laugh, undoing the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. While you did so, he worked on undressing you completely and then you waited for him to undress himself.
You’d palmed him once, you knew he wasn’t small but christ. Now you were definitely nervous. He smiled at you, basking in your beauty before leaning down to kiss a trail all the way from your stomach, up to your chest, to your neck. He was so unbelievably happy. He leaned back up to kiss you some more, his hand wandering down to your thigh, pulling it up. Your other thigh moves up instinctively and he pulls away to look down to actually do this.
He holds your legs at the back of your knees while guides himself to where he believes is the right spot. Glenn was a fucking liar. He has no idea what he’s doing. Maggie was right. Jesus this was so awkward. “Um…i-is this right or-” He stutters hoping you’d know how to guide him. You did, you helped him but not without accidentally sliding his tip against your clit, extracting a sharp moan from the both of you. Once he found your hole, he looked at you before slowly pushing into you.
Your mouth drops slightly at the feeling, his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “This okay?” He asked quietly, stopping to hear your response. “Mhm s’fine just keep going slow.” He nodded and kept pushing, eventually bottoming out. He was breathing heavily, and you were too but he seemed to be on another planet. “A-are you okay?” You sort of giggle. His eyes are shut and he nods. “Just really tight that’s all.” He says breathlessly, gripping your thighs like he was never gonna let go. “Mkay. you can start moving if-if you’re ready.”
Well he’s been ready. He begins to slowly stroke in and out of you, he opens his eyes and leans down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth and you wrap your arms around him. He props himself up to hover over you, still pressing his length into your now, sopping heat. He leans his head back into your neck, moaning against your skin while you leave indents on his back from your nails. “You’re so good, so warm n wet. l-love you s-so much. Please.” He rambled, not even sure why he was saying please.
You could only moan in response, muttering a small “I love you too”back. He started to thrust a bit faster, his pace only increasing. It got to the point where you couldn’t even speak. You could tell he was close to cumming, you were too. Everything felt so good, his affection was only making it ten times better. He was so sweet with you, he really wanted you to feel good and not just him. You were glad he was the one taking your virginity.
“Carl-f-fuck I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, your nails digging into his skin deeper than before which causes him to groan. “Mhm me too.” His voice sounds somewhat strained. You clench around him before cumming all over his cock, him following soon after. He bottoms out inside of you one last time, hitting your g-spot perfectly, causing you to both moan loudly.
He smiles satisfactorily, pulling you into his embrace while he breathes heavily. “You’re so perfect.” He presses a kiss to your jaw and smiles against your skin. “You are. I feel so good.” You say basically astounded, reaching your hand up to rest in his hair. You spend a moment, just breathing and enjoying the afterglow.
Suddenly, Carl pulls away from your neck, and looks up as if he had heard something. You eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“What is it?”
“We forgot the condom.”
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a/n: ok cuz i’m scared and nervous to post this but imma do it anyway THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT i hope it’s okayyy i feel like it was so sped up and im mad about it but let’s ignore that 0-0 hope you like ittttttttttt (im so scared right now you shut up)
ppl to tag: @zomb-1-egutzz
(sorry if u didn’t wanna be tagged for this LMAO)
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dilfl0v3rss · 10 months
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ony is the best baby daddy like he just has that energyyy 😫
rightttttt like he gets the kids on time and if he’s late he will always let you know. he knows how to do his daughters hair and always makes sure his son has a haircut. his kids are always dressed nice and he always makes sure they’re taking care of each other as well as taking care of their beautiful mother.
he still finds himself looking out for you too, always telling the kids to “order sum for mommy” when he takes them out to eat or to “always make sure mommy’s not working too hard”. even on days he isn’t supposed to have them he’d gladly take them if you were feeling overwhelmed. if you’re feeling sick he’ll literally sleep at your house, soup and medicine sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch as he slept just incase you were to wake up in the middle of the night.
he’d constantly “forget” money at your house after he leaves too, telling you to “just get yourself sum nice”. if you give the money back anyways he’d give it to his oldest child, telling them to put it in your wallet for him.
when it’s his weekend with the kids he’d call you every couple of hours to let you know he has everything under control since he knows how worried you could get when you haven’t heard from him i awhile.
he always speaks highly of you to the kids, telling his daughters stories of when the two of you were young and in love and telling his sons stories of how strong you were for him when he couldn’t be strong for himself. your kids would honestly be what got the two of you back together. they’d constantly tell you the stories their father would tell them, reminding you of how happy the two of you used to be and making you realize that you didn’t even know why the two of you called it quits in the first place.
as soon as you called ony he’d answer on the first ring, throwing millions of questions at you since you never really called unless he had the kids. you’d shut him up by asking if he could come over to talk for a little in which he replied almost instantly with a yes. he’d be over there in less than fifteen minutes letting you lead him to your bedroom to talk just incase your kids came downstairs for some water or a late night snack.
of course the two of you didn’t get to talk for more than ten minutes, his dick shoved deep into you as he held his hand over your mouth. “shhh mama you gotta be quiet. ion want you t’wake the kids” he’d whisper, fucking into you deeper as he watched your teary eyes roll to the back of your skull. you’d mumble back a muffled “mhm” as you felt the pad of his thumb begin to circle your clit. you’d whine and moan for him loader and loader, turning him on to the point where his grunts and groans began to come out at a higher volume as well. soon enough the both of you were deep in bliss, fucking on each other just like you used to. you’d tell him how much you missed him and how you’ve never stopped loving him and he’d gladly say it back, deepening his stroke as he left passionate kisses on your lips.
as the two of you finished ony would lay you back down, letting sleep claim you as he moved towards the door to check on his little angels. as soon as he turned the doorknob loud shuffles could he heard from the hallway, the sound of a bunch of feet running towards one of the bedrooms and little whispers of “sh sh shh” and “be quiet” coming from it as he made his way down the hall to check on his “sleeping” children. he couldn’t help but smile when he seen them cuddled up together on a large blanket of the floor, some of the smaller ones in bed with the oldest. they had different rooms, but chose to sleep together often since they were all so close.
ony couldn’t help but notice the small smiles on each of their faces, nothing but excitement and joy rushing through them as they thought about how happy much happier their parents will be now that they’re together again.
i didn’t even mean to write this i just let my brain leak all over the place…
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onlyjaeyun · 7 months
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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟏𝟓
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬
↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟒𝐤
↬ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎.
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With a soft sigh, you close the chat with your closest friends, the soft jazz music finally making its way to your ears as you meet the gaze of your uber driver through his rear view mirror. A gentle expression grazes his eyes, as if he could sense your current state of struggle and somehow attempted to ease those thoughts and doubts.
But he doesn't actually know that you're on your way to your boss's penthouse apartment to bring him soup in hopes of winning his heart over or at least receive a single word of affirmation and praise from him.
And he actually can't read your mind or tell just how mean your brain's gotten these past few minutes, but all you do is smile back at him, wordlessly letting him know just how much you appreciate his concern.
You don't want to let your friends' words get to you, yet with every second you can't help but lose yourself in the worst case scenarios and actualy fear consume your body. The mere thought of your boss scolding you for doing something so unprofessional and inappropriate has an ice cold shiver find its way down your spine but before you get the chance to actually change your mind, the car comes to a halt.
Maybe it's the fact you grew up in a rather poor part of your hometown or maybe it's because you tend to forget just how rich Park Jongseong is, but either way you find yourself standing in front of his huge apartment building, wondering how one can actually afford living there.
Your eyes roam every little detail of it, only for your heart to skip a beat as soon as you realise that you simply can't enter the building without Jongseong letting you in first.
For a moment, you actually, genuinely consider going home and just throwing away every single part of your little plan, but the tiny little voice in the back of your head is loud enough to convince you to just pull through with it.
That's how you find yourself at the reception of Park Jongseong's apartment complex, something you believed to be a made up concept of rich people in movies and dramas, casually telling the woman in front of you who you've come for.
"Mr. Park Junior didn't tell me about any guests for tonight", the young lady says, her voice slightly condescending and as her eyes roam your body, you can't help but regret your choice of outfit. Maybe you should have dressed up a little more formally than your jeans-hoodie combination but at the end of the day you're pretty sure she would have judged you either way.
"He doesn't know about my visit", you say and try your best to hide how much her attitude intimidates you, "could you maybe tell him that Y/N's here to drop off something?"
"We don't just call Mr. Park Junior for random night time visits", yet again, the brunette makes sure to belittle you with just her tone and all you can do is sigh softly in response.
"I'll call him then." You don't even look at her as you turn around and pull your phone out, your bottom lip firmly tugged between your teeth as you try your best to stay calm.
Dialing your boss's number has never been easy ever since you've started working for him, yet this time you can actually feel your heart thrumming in your throat and the blood rushing in your ears as it rings.
It doesn't take longer than a few seconds for Jongseong to pick up your call; your number the only one besides his boys and his mother he's put on the list of exceptions when he's got his phone on 'do not disturb'.
He knows it's wrong but using the excuse of your new position as his personal assistant easily overshadows his actual intentions. Is he a bad boss because he wants to be available for you all the time? Or is it considered inappropriate? Either way, Jay simply can't get himself to care enough to overthink it.
After taking complete advantage of his first day off in months, Jay actually feels energetic enough to sit himself up, casually ignoring just how excited and nervous he is about the fact that you're calling him. He can't help but wonder if you've missed him, only to mentally slap himself for even allowing those thoughts to enter his head.
He's your boss, why the fuck would you miss him?
"Hello?" The soft sound of your pretty voice takes him aback and for a moment he actually feels dizzy again, yet quickly regains his composure.
"Yes, Y/N, how can I help you?" As he speaks, Jongseong genuinely hopes you can't hear the excitement wavering in his tone, too afraid you'd misinterpret his reaction to you.
"Misinterpret".
"I really hope this isn't inappropriate, Sir but I'm – uhm – in the lobby of your apartment building because I wanted to drop off some of the soup I made for you." The words just leave your mouth, too fast for your brain to get the chance to overthink any of them and you actually catch yourself holding your breath as you wait for his reaction.
After a whole beat of silence, Jay finally manages to somehow form a response.
"I'll call the receptionist", is all he says before he hangs up and you find yourself slightly overwhelmed, not ready to face the young woman behind you.
It doesn't take longer than a a handful of minutes for you to find yourself at at the door to your boss's penthouse.
You don't really know what you expected, especially considering that he explicitly mentioned his current physical state, yet the sight of The Park Company's CEO in a pair of grew sweats and a black shirt, glasses comfortably placed on his nose, a completely bare face and messy hair was probably not the sight you had imagined.
But it quickly becomes your absolute favorite version of him.
Seeing him in such a...comfortable state feels a little surreal after only ever having seen him in his suits and daily clothes in the few weeks you've been working for him.
Jongseong, on the other side, doesn't get enough time to actually hide how much your sudden and unexpected presence flusters him as a deep blush covers the apples of his cheeks as well as his nose and ears all the way down to his neck. A single impulsive thought rushes through his head, but he does manage to stop himself from slamming the door in your face and simply accepts his current situation.
"I know you told me not to do it but I love taking care of people and this is my standard Y/N-care package, which includes beef soup, kimbap and some cookies", you explain and look at him with big eyes, trying your best to stop yourself from letting your gaze drop to his slightly exposed chest, as a tiny little black line poking out underneath his shirt on his right side catches your attention.
Jay loves the way you look at him. He's had so many woman look at him like that, yet your gaze just seems different than theirs. You don't just look at him with bedroom eyes, no. Your pretty eyes are filled with adoration and this hunger he can't put a name on.
And at first Jong struggled to understand why he enjoys your gaze until that one particular day where the two of you went into a meeting together and you were hiding behind him when all of these business men suddenly started talking to you. It's the fact that you're actively seeking his presence because you feel protected and safe with him which makes your needy eyes so different from all the others.
You actually need and want him in more ways than just sexual and Jong's afraid that's exactly what's going to make staying away from you so, so much more difficult.
"Here you go", you say after a whole minute of silence, "I hope you feel better soon, Sir. Please don't rush yourself to get back to work, Mr. Lee is taking great care of the office and all your meetings and appointments have been rescheduled to next week already."
Your words somehow manage to calm his chaotic thoughts down. Jongseong hadn't even realised how much he had been worrying about work until you mentioned it. He definitely feels better than just a few hours ago but the mere thought of getting up tomorrow morning and going through all those meetings and paper work has shivers run down his back. Knowing you've got it all under control eases his mind to the point where he actually doesn't feel guilty about staying home one more day.
"Thank you so much, Y/N", your boss replies calmly and takes the bag from you, his hand touching yours for a single second and still managing to send shivers down your spine.
"You're welcome, Sir", you whisper, a little too shy when his eyes find yours again and all you can do is smile softly at him.
"Have a good night and get–", but Jongseong doesn't give you the opportunity to finish your sentence.
"Wait–", he says quickly, subconsciously reaching for your wrist but immediately stopping himself before his skin can touch yours.
"Yes, Mr. Park? Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Your willingness to satisfy his every need is going to drive him into absolute insanity. Jongseong knows it's because you work for him, yet for some reason he can't help but feel like it's actually because you genuinely want to and not because you get paid for it.
His therapist is going to have a field day during their next session.
"You came all this way to drop these off, why don't you come in and have some coffee with me?"
He didn't mean to invite you into his apartment because he knows just how unprofessional and inappropriate it is, yet he can't even deny how badly he wants you to spend some more time with him. Especially after you've decided to keep your distance to him the past week.
"Oh", you reply softly, desperately suppressing the big smile threatning to form on your face, "sure, that's really kind of you. I hope I'm not overstepping any bound-"
"You're not, Y/N. I promise. Please, come on in."
You can't help but be visibly surprised about being interrupted by your boss for the second time within a few minutes, something he's never done before to you or basically anyone he's galked to in your presence.
But without giving it too many thoughts, you walk past him into the big hallway of his apartment, your face quickly giving away just how impressed you are and for a moment you simply feel embarrassed for being so obvious.
You wordlessly follow your boss into the living room and then the kitchen, your eyes eagerly roaming the huge spaces as if your brain couldn't comprehend the fact that this is really how some people live on the daily.
After moving out from your tiny childhood home, you thought your new two bedroom apartment was big, maybe because it was the first time in your life where you didn't have to share a room or a bed, yet seeing the way your rich boss lives, you can't say you don't feel the tiniest bit envious.
"Your apartment is very pretty, Sir", you say quietly, a little intimidated by the whole situation and if it wasn't for the physical exhaustion, Jay would have wholly appreciated your compliment.
The sight of you in his penthouse is something he's imagined way too many times in the past few weeks and he has absolutely no idea why. Just the mental image of watching you do the most basic tasks in his home instead of your own has brought him the type of comfort he's been craving so desperately all his life, and that's how he knew he fucked up.
This wasn't meant to happen. You're his secretary and personal assistant, he can't and won't ever have you. But why can't he stop imagining you as such a prominent part in his life to the point where he actually manages to get his own hopes all the way up to the sky?
"Thank you, Y/N", he replies and as soon as you look up to meet his exhausted gaze, an expression of genuine worry washes over your face and before he can even overthink it, he watches the way you approach him.
The feeling of your hand on his forehead is definitely not the next thing he expected, yet the cooling sensation your touch comes with easily overwhelms him.
"Sir, you're running a fever again", you say and only realise that your hand has found its way to his cheek when he slowly moves into your touch, a sight so sweet and gentle, your brain quickly makes sure it's forever engraved in your memory.
You don't pull away right away, but rather slowly to make sure he knows you regret your subconscious decision but also not take away the comfort it probably comes with.
"Yeah, I feel a little tired again. I think the meds have started to wear off."
Upon his confession, you basically push him to lay down on the couch again, quickly cleaning up the little mess of tissues and empty water bottles before making your way to the kitchen to reheat some of the soup.
Jongseong feels his lids growing heavier by the minute, yet he'd never miss the opportunity to watch you in his kitchen. The fact you seem to fit in perfectly makes all of his worries even worse because why the fuck did it have to be like this?
It doesn't take you longer than five minutes to come back with a bowl of hot soup and a spoon, a water bottle firmly tugged underneath your arm as you come to sit next to his head.
"I know you also told me you didn't need any meds but uhm, my grandmother swears on these and every time I catch a cold they save me from the worst. But I do understand if you don't wanna take them."
Your voice calms his heart and soul, your words barely reaching his brain as his whole attention remains on the way you sound and never once in his life did he ever think he'd want someone to talk to him forever.
"That's very kind, thank you", Jong whispers and caughs softly, his usually tanned skin slightly paler than usual and you hate the way your heart aches at the sight of it.
"I'm also making you one of my grandmother's remedy teas, I promise you'll feel better in no time."
For some reason, the fact you're so casually telling him about your family again makes him happier than it should. But does it make him a bad boss if he wants to know more about you and your upbringing? You're spending so much time with each other after all, it's the least he should want, right?
"Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman", he says softly and slowly tries his best to sit himself up, every single limb hurting like he he run against a wall with full force and as soon as he reaches for the spoon, Jongseong actually has to take a break from moving so much.
"She was", you whisper and pull your bottom lip between your teeth, unsure whether or not to offer your help, "she was my best friend and the only person in my life who took such great care of me and everyone around her. I cherish her recipes and that's how I came up with my Y/N-care package."
Jongseong attentively listens to the things you tell him, something you genuinely appreciate when it comes to him because besides your best friend, you've never had anyone listen to every word you say with such focus, especially not a man.
You carefully watch the way he nods, his pretty lips pushed into a soft pout, big hands in his lap as he looks at you with tired eyes and with a soft sigh you finally give into your disgusting need to take care of him.
"May I feed you, Sir? I know I'm not being professional but–", "Please do, Y/N. I'd really appreciate it." Jong is quick to interrupt you, because if it wasn't for you initiating it, he would sit there waiting to gain enough physical strength for another twenty minutes.
He's never had anyone but his mother and sister take such sweet care of him and the fact you do it without any intentions makes this whole experience even more intimate than it's supposed to be.
As you reach for the spoon, Jay thinks of all the things he'd do for you if you let him, only for his conscience to slap him across the face because no matter what, at the end of the day you two would never work out. Not only because you're his employee and he's your boss but because he'd never forgive himself for pulling you into a life you couldn't handle. You're too soft, too gentle, your heart is too kind for the world he lives in. A world full of faux happiness and sincerity, where nothing is real, no smiles and laughter, no words and promises, no friendships and marriages. A world so dark, it'd kill the light in your soul within a few weeks, something Jongseong could never, ever forgive himself.
"Say 'ah'", you chuckle and lift the full spoon to his lips, your pretty lips stretched into a gentle smile and without hesitation, Jay bends a little over to take it into his mouth. The warmth as well as the comforting taste of the soup easily has his whole body slowly waking up.
"It's delicious", Jay says with raised brows, his eyes finding yours and the way his compliment so obviously flusters you manages to play with his thoughts and feelings yet again, "you're a great cook, Y/N."
You hate how much his words mean to you, but besides two words of appreciation, you can't get yourself to say anything else. For some reason this feels way more intimate than you expected but with each spoon, the urge to play with his hair and caress his back becomes more and more overwhelming.
All you want for him is to feel good and be okay, something you want for everyone in your life, so why do you want to do everything in your power to make it happen.
Your boss is a rich bachelor in his late twenties, who not only grew up with old money but probably won't ever know what it feels like to wonder if there'll be any food left for him and his siblings to eat the next day, but you still want to somehow be involved in his well-being.
"Tell me more about your grandmother", Jay suddenly asks and isn't really sure why he decided to bring things back to your family, but he simply can't hold back with his curiosity, especially after those few family issues you've mentioned to him.
He also doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable, but physically doesn't have enough energy to lead the conversation. On top of it all he's always been a better listener than a talker, especially when it comes to the people he cares about.
"Are you sure you wanna hear that? She's the only topic I can talk about for hours", you chuckle shyly and lift the spoon up to his face yet again, only for Jay to nod softly.
Upon his approval, you tell him about what it felt like to be raised by her as the only grandchild, how she spent most of her time showing you her recipes even after working long days at the market. You feel yourself getting more and more emotional as you slowly lose yourself in the memory of the only blood family member who always cared for and about you, the only one who didn't abandon you after the things your parents did.
And Jongseong just listens. He tries to save it all to his memory, your words, the stories, your grandmother's personality from your point of view, details about your childhood, the sight of your teary eyes when you come to the point where she passed away when you were sixteen years old.
Jongseong has never had any good relations with anyone in his family besides his mother and his older sister. Mostly because his father's side of the family is exactly like him, victims and servants of capitalism who have made money and financial success their only priority in life to the point where betrayal and lying has become part of their daily routines. His mother's family had decided to abandon her as soon as they found out about her pregnancy and despite their pathetic attempts of reconciliation, Jong has never allowed her to let them back into their lives. Not after everything they put her through.
Hearing about how you lived a whole life with this one particular woman makes him want to meet her. Jong knows that you probably have your soft heart and kind soul from her, and he can't help but wonder what kind of person she was.
"She sounds wonderful", he then suddenly comments and for some reason, you know those words come from his heart and all you can do is smile at him.
"Yeah", you whisper and gulp harshly when the tears suddenly prick at the corners of your eyes, "I miss her a lot."
Jay lets out a soft sigh of acknowledgment before he does something he knows he's going to regret but at this point he's jusg mentally tired of fighting his urges all the time.
With a gentle smile he reaches for your chin and lifts your head up to have you meet his gaze, his sudden touch eliciting a soft gasp from your parted lips and thankfully he manages to at least suppress the urge to just kiss you.
"I just know she's really proud of the beautiful, strong woman you've grown into", he whispers and then places his big hand on your cheek, his touch soft and gentle despite how rough his hands tend to look and you instinctively move further into his touch, the way he did just a half an hour ago.
"I know I am", Jay adds calmly and maybe it's the way you've been working so hard to take care of him or maybe it's all the built up frustration about your situation but no matter how much he tries to stop himself from saying them, he knows those next few words are nothing but the truth.
"I'm so proud of you, Y/N."
And those are the words which have you spiralling all the way back into your deepest feelings for him. You knew coming here and doing the thingds you just did weren't the smartest thing considering you've been trying to distance yourself from him, but never in a million years have you expected to hear such a genuine and sweet praise from him.
"T-Thank you so much, Sir", you whisper and shift your gaze to your hands in your lap, too embarrassed about just how flustered you are.
"Not for this", he calmly replies and probably has no idea what his words have done to you. Even if he knew, you know he'd never care enough for it to effect him.
To your luck, he's long finshed the soup so using the excuse to get his tea, you basically jump onto your feet and run into the kitchen, only to realise that you can't actually lose your shit because he can see you from his spot on the couch.
The following five minutes are filled with nothing but absolute silence and you can't hide how glad you are about it. The tension between the two of you has become unbearable and the urge to crawl onto his lap and never leave again is about to take over every other rational thought in your head.
"Thank you for taking such good care of me, Y/N", Jay says when you finally place the tea on the little coffee table in front of the couch, his eyes casually roaming your whole body and you're surprised how he doesn't even seem hesitant about it. Maybe it's the meds showing their effects or maybe the physical exhaustion, but regardless of the reason, you refuse to accept the possibility of his potential interest in or attraction to you.
"Of course, Sir", you reply calmly, "it's my pleasure."
"Have you been taking care of yourself as well? I know you haven't been feeling the best lately and I wouldn't want you to neglect yourself", Jay says and takes a sip from the sweet tea, his eyes focusing your reactions and he can't help but love just how much his words seem to effect you.
"Yes, Mr. Park", you say softly and smile at him, finally a little less anxious and excited as your body has managed to calm down from the high he'd put you in just a few minutes ago.
"Good girl."
Yet, those two little words basically shoot you all the way up to the milky way within just a single second.
Jongseong doesn't even realise what he just said, yet once he does, his eyes widen and he basically stops in his tracks.
Never once in your life have you expected him to say something so intimate and forbidden, but you physically can't get yourself to hide your reaction.
With a soft gasp, your head shoots up to look at him, hoping that you just misheard what he said but at the way your boss doesn't move a good minute, you know you heard exactly what you he said.
"I'm so – so sorry", Jay says once he regains his composure, his heart thrumming in his throat as the blood rushes in his ears and he actually feels a headache making its way into his brain.
"It's okay", your voice a mere whisper as you're aftaid for it to break if you spoke too loudly, "don't worry about it."
Maybe it's just a habit he has and maybe he just mistook you for someone else, someone who actually gets to hear those sweet words of praise every time he does what he needs to do to get rid of his frustration. That's it. It was just a slip up.
Park Jongseong would never think about praising you in such a manner if he wasn't actually physically sick, so there's absolutely no need for you to get your hopes up again.
"I didn't mean to – fuck – please, just forget about this, okay?"
All you can do is nod as you try to ignore the thick veil of tears that have already blurred your vision, not because of shame or embarrassment but because you know it really wasn nothing a stupid accident.
You hate yourself for wishing to hear it again, and again and again. All you want for him is to call you a good girl until it's engraved into your brain and you actually start believing it.
Jay carefully watches your reactions again and he can't believe the immense guilt he's feeling for having to retract his words knowing you probably needed that more than anything else. The way you seem genuinely disappointed about it has his heart aching in the worst way possible because fuck every single rule he's set for himself. You are a good girl. His good girl. So good, so obedient, so hardworking and so, so perfect. You're everything he's ever dreamed of in a woman, yet there's no way he can be what you need and deserve.
"Not because you aren't one", he suddenly says, not quite sure why he decided to but simply following his instincts, "but because it wasn't appropriate and I'm sorry about making you uncomfortable."
"It's okay, Mr. Park. I'm just – too easy", you basically laugh off the embarrassment and try your best to escape his strong gaze knowing he's going to see your tears if you let him.
"Y/N, look at me, please."
Of course Park Jongseong is too attentive to miss your actual reaction and since at this point your brain has decided to never, ever disobey him, you find yourself looking into his eyes the very next moment.
"We can't do this", he suddenly says and has your heart drop into your stomach, "not only is it super inappropriate and unprofessional but it's also not...right. I'm your boss, you're my employee and things would just get super messy if we acted on this tension between the two of us."
All you can do is nod because you can't quite understand that he just verbally rejected you, especially when you thought things couldn't have taken a wronger turn.
You hate how much youmre struggling to breath yet the knot in dour throat seems to double in its size with every second passing by and for a moment you're genuinely worried about passing out.
"Yes, Sir", is the only response you manage to whisper, too ashamed and embarrassed to say anything else.
"I wish I could be the man you need, but I'm not. And I won't ever be, so please, let's just forget about this and keep it going the way we did until today, okay?"
Yet again, not a single word leaves your lips, the fear of bursting into tears if you dared to say something too big.
"I think it's better if you leave now, I'm sorry."
And it's those words which manage to break his heart into thousands of pieces, but after seeing the way you reacted to his praise and the image of you standing in his kitchen like it's your own has given him false hopes he's not ready to deal with. He can't have you and no matter how much sending you away hurts him, Jay knows he has to do this for you to hate him. Even if you happened to quit your job after today, he'd rather have you be distant than give you the wrong idea.
"No, don't be. I'm sorry, Sir", you say and quickly get onto your feet, reaching for your phone on the coffee table and your jacket before quickly taking a few steps away from him.
Being so physically close to him feels like actual torture and all you want to do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 
You never expected your hopes and little daydreams to be shattered like this, but you know you needed this and it's the only thing which could have brought you back to reality.
"I don't need the boxes I brought the food in, just keep them or throw them away. Please excuse my lack of professionalism tonight, Mr. Park. I promise it won't happen ever again. Have a good night and get well soon."
You don't even give him the chance to get on his feet as you basically turn around and run to the front door the second the last word of your apology leaves your lips and even if he wanted to follow and pull you into his arms, Jongseong just stays exactly where he is because there's no point in comforting you. He did what needed to be done and that's it.
Even if that means watching his good girl run away from him with tears streaming down her cheeks.
This pain is only temporary. You'll eventually get over him, you're so young after all. And once that day comes, you'll be grateful for escaping him and his love. Because Jongseong has always ruined the things he touched and the people he cared about. He'll make sure you won't ever be part of that list no matter how much it hurts his heart.
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← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
(A/N: here we go babies 👀 it's a little heartbreaking ngl and things will be a little angstier from now on but the spicy part's also around the corner so let's go!🤭 thank you so much for all the love and support, you guys are truly the best. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!🩷🧸)
TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @soiimo @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @glitterssim @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight
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saminthea · 2 years
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Anyone else completely obsessed with the new Enola Holmes movie? Like I was fully expecting a fun, pseudo historic pop feminist romp and instead I got...
"Hey big companies are corrupt and *will* straight up kill people for profit. And also the system is really ill equipped to deal with that kind of corruption, the best and often only way to instill change is through worker's collective action."
Which is like. Good soup!
On top of that the Holmes' mom is part of a group that destroys property in protest for women's rights, and it's treated like, morally quirky at worst? Most media with these types of characters pull the "you're just as bad as your oppressors for resorting to violence" bs. But here it's just "yeah, that's Mom lol!"
Also basic no think bonus points for actually including dark skinned black women. Lots of modern 'diverse' historical fiction has a lot of trouble with that.
Also can I just gush about how much I *adore* this iteration of Moriarty? She's so well portrayed with that perfect "smarter than everyone in this room, life's a game, let's play" vibe. She's suave and soft spoken and so obviously delighted by having found a 'worthy' opponent in Sherlock. I can't wait to see her again.
Also it might be the lingering middle school Sherlock fangirl in me but when they introduced Dr. John Watson I just about *screamed*.
Overall, A+ movie. Thoroughly enjoyed myself and I didn't even have to turn my brain off to do it.
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sordidmusings · 8 months
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Thirsty Thursday with Pissed Off Buggy
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A/N: Since I've felt like the Buggy I've been writing has been leaning more consistently towards sub, I wanted to spend some time with dom Buggy. Gotta get the best of both worlds! I'll eventually spend time writing him as a softer dom but my brain said "no make him fuckin ruthless" so this happened lol should work for either anime or live action
Word Count: ~1.3k
Warnings: afab!reader, NSFW like a lot, has like lightly angsty peripheral plot (a misunderstanding has Buggy in a jealous rage), pretty strong degradation, overstimulation, p in v, rough treatment, he technically steps on you, creampie, dub-con if you squint? (boundaries neared but none crossed), slight dumbification, holy shit that sounds like a lot written out like that 🧍🏻‍♀️
Well, soups on! Enjoy the meal lol
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
“Can’t!” you gasped out, “Too -aaah- much, ‘s too much.”
“Too damn bad. Now shut the fuck up,” Buggy snarled from behind you, where he kept his fast and forceful thrusts going. Each impact seemed to rattle through your whole body, and there was no reprieve from his thick dick splitting you open, even though he pulled far enough back for only his head to stay in you each time. He’s been at this for awhile now, the friction long since turned from sparks on kindling to rabid flames burning through all of your senses. The heart of the blaze was still strongly centered in your endlessly clenching cunt and swollen clit, kept alive by the rub of his cock and the slap of his balls on every thrust in.
“B-but Buggyyyy,” you whined, long and pathetic, struggling to get the words out after yet another orgasm wrung out your body. You couldn’t focus enough to keep from drooling on the desk below you, let alone find the words to placate him.
“I said,” he hissed, gloved fingers of a detached hand digging into your cheeks and jaw, “shut. UP.”
Those fingers dragged painfully across your skin before shoving their way into your mouth. You gagged hard when they pressed on the back of your tongue, but it only rewarded Buggy with your body bucking frantically against him. Your movements couldn’t get you very far, not with the way one of his detached, booted feet stepped down between your shoulder blades, pinning your chest so hard that you couldn’t fully inhale.
“Muuuuch better,” he taunted snidely. “That mouth is better full don’t you think? Keeps your dumb whore lips from seducing other men.” 
You cried around his fingers at the accusation, needing him to know it wasn’t true. In his bid to grasp and control every part of you he could, he’s taken from you any way that you could reassure him.
Everything was so fuzzy and blended together. The onslaught of pleasure from his pounding hips and crushing hold, the lack of oxygen making your body tingle and mind fray, and the raging emotions of hurt and want storming together through you. You clung desperately to the fabric of your mind to endure it while the gales gripped you and tugged in every direction.
Buggy’s mind was already lost. He had let it go the moment he'd seen you trail a hand up that man’s chest and lead it behind his head to play with his baby hairs. Buggy knew what every detail of that felt like, how good it felt, and he was ready to start ripping everything around him apart because only he was allowed to feel that. Only him.
Now he is only instinct and impulse and all of it is bent on owning every piece of you. He’s split apart, pushing, shoving, grasping, and pinning every inch of you to keep you to himself. His whole being was insistent against you but nothing more so than his thick cock, which had bullied you into overstimulation for what felt like hours. Untethered from both feet, Buggy was free to use any angle or force that he wanted. Your body tried its best to take and process what he was doing to you, but it had quickly given up, leaving you limp and drooling under him. Seeing your full submission to him had a bolt of lightning shred through him. This is what he needs. He needs you to fold to the fact that you’re his - his to know and touch and fuck and own. Buggy needed to possess you and he needed to hoard your affection the most. You gave it to him and the thought that you might take it back had him violent in the need to defend his position with you.
After holding out through your endless milking of his cock, Buggy was starting to lose the battle to keep fucking you for eternity. He tried to hide it but he was trembling under the pressure of his oncoming orgasm. His thighs shook through every slam into you, his fingers in your hair and on your tongue were jerking in their grip, and his cock and balls throbbed so hard that he was sure you’d be able to feel it on your skin if you weren’t fucked so dumb.
“If I fuck you full will that keep you happy, little slut?” He sneered. You moaned loud around his fingers, sucking and swallowing for him. “That was it huh? My cocksleeve wasn’t getting enough use, so it was stupid enough to think SOMEONE ELSE could fuck it.” The way he broke into a yell was slightly terrifying but you couldn't deny that it had you gripping him like a vice. The delicious feeling had him fall onto his elbows above you.
“Fuck -hah- you’re so fucking stupid,” Buggy barked. His rage was palpable but you knew him well enough to hear the traces of hurt underneath. 
His foot had moved from your back to press the side of your head down so that he could take its place. He kept switching between mean bites and sucking marks and pressing his forehead hard into your spine, smearing the remnants of his makeup on you. Despite the rough behavior, there was some comfort in having more of his touch blazing over you. 
His hips finally began to falter.
“Gonna fuck you full of me and never leave you empty -shit- you’re gonna have to walk everywhere with my cock plugged in you now.” With each phrase, Buggy was panting more, lost in the idea of never leaving your pussy. “Any time you so much as look at anyone else I’ll press so deep in you it hurts,” he promised darkly. “I don’t care who the fuck is around, I’ll fuck you ‘til you’re screaming and crying for me, understand?”
He pulls his fingers from your mouth for you to sob out a “yes” before shoving them right back in.
“Good whore, good -hunnngh- good fucking whore,” Buggy groaned, punching each word into you with a strong clap of his hips on your ass. His arms slid to wrap around you without him telling them to and he knew he was done for. He growls out, “You better cum as a thank you, slut” before he bit into the meat of your shoulder hard. 
You had absolutely no power or will to disobey him. Even with how swollen and sore you were, the orgasm was blissful and warm and everything you wanted. It peaked over all the others he’d forced from you tonight due to the strong grinds of his flicking cock into you. They turned the near painful abuse of your cervix into a delicious rub that kept your clit throbbing and your hips twitching and jerking. Your eyes had long since rolled back and you were screaming loud enough for it to escape the room, even with your stuffed mouth. You were so lost in your own bliss that you hardly registered the death grip Buggy had on you or the way he kept groaning deeply into your shoulder.
Buggy’s teeth let you go and his hand finally left your mouth for good, letting you gasp in air that had your overworked body prickling with static. Though enough time passed for him to finish wiping all the tears off your face, Buggy stayed hidden in the nape of your neck.
The moment you had enough oxygen in you, you pant out, “Don't want him. Was just info- getting info. Only want you.” He held you a touch tighter. “Promise, promise.”
Still too raw and unsure to say anything, Buggy responded by placing a kiss to the angry impression his teeth had left on you. It was a start.
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midgardian-witch · 1 year
Note
From the prompt list: “Because every time I see you, all I can think about is kissing you and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.” with Steven Grant please.
Since I already did this prompt with Jake I decided to approach this a little differently. And it turned out much longer than I had planned. I still hope you'll like it, anon 💙
Stupid Sexy Steven
tags: friends to lovers | kissing | cursing | Steven being effortlessly adorable and sexy | gn!reader
ships: Steven Grant/Reader
AO3
Edit: added AO3 link
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“Because every time I see you, all I can think about is kissing you and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”
You've been avoiding Steven. It's not the bravest thing to do and you're not exactly proud of it but you don't know what else to do. 
You need the space to figure out how to deal with your emotions. It's not an everyday thing you realize you're in love with your best friend. So avoiding it is. 
You know you'll have to say something at some point, you just didn't know how to say it. It's like your brain just shuts off when you look at him nowadays. He's just so genuinely kind and loving, and that goofy little grin he makes when he gets excited, and the way his brows furrow when he focuses on something-
Focus. Don't get distracted. 
So yeah, you get a little silly around him since you figured out that you have a crush on him. It happens. But also you don't want to make a total fool of yourself so some distance was in order. 
You just didn't account for Steven to just not let that happen. 
It's your day off when the inevitable happens. You were just getting ready to catch up on a TV show you had on your watchlist for a while when your doorbell rings. You get up, confused because you didn't expect any visitor or delivery, and walk over to your door. You open it to find the one man you didn’t plan on seeing. 
Steven smiles at you, standing there in your doorway like an excited puppy. 
"Hello! I hope I'm not disturbing you but we haven't seen eachother in a while and I wanted to check up on you."
Curse him and his puppy dog eyes. How could you turn him away like this? 
You clear your throat awkwardly and step aside to let him in. 
"Hi Steven. Yeah it's been a while. I didn't want to worry you."
He steps inside and you lead him into your living room. 
"You've been busy then, yeah?", he sits down in front of your TV and you join him, "I mean you didn't answer my calls or texts either so I thought maybe you weren't feeling well."
It's only now that you see the little container he's holding. Your heart squeezes in your chest. 
He got you soup because he thought you were sick. 
And all the while you had muted him in your contacts so you wouldn't be tempted. You were the worst human being on the planet. 
You take the offered soup, thanking him profusely. Quickly you carry it into your kitchen and return with some water for Steven. 
"You really didn't have to do this. See, I'm fine."
You smile at him as you place his water on the table. Steven returns your smile before his face turns thoughtful. 
Fuck, he looked so pretty even like this. His mouth twists into this little pout and you are once again wondering what it would feel like to press your lips against his, what sounds he would make as you lean in to kiss him, how he-
"-so it was either that or you were avoiding me."
You didn't even notice Steven was talking again. Curse Steven and his stupid, kissable mouth. 
"I- well…", you stammer. You couldn't lie to his face, you had to say the truth. "I was kind of avoiding you."
You regret it immediately. Steven looks at you like a kicked puppy. "Why?", he asks and just with that one word your heart breaks for him. 
It's too much, the guilt and the still lingering thoughts of Steven's lips on yours destroyed any brain-to-mouth filter you've ever had. 
“Because every time I see you, all I can think about is kissing you and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”
You slap your hand over your mouth, a desperate attempt to stop the words that have already left your lips. Steven stares at you, mouth agape and cheeks flushing. He starts stuttering and you can’t really make out what he's saying. 
"I'm so sorry. I didn't want to just dump this on you. I swear I had a plan and everything.", you groan, annoyed at yourself and hide your face behind your hands. 
Cautiously, softly, Steven asks: "Do you really want to kiss me?" 
He sounds like he doesn't believe it, that you couldn't possibly want that. And that could not stand. 
You take your hands off of your face and look directly into his eyes. 
"Steven Grant, I have been thinking about nothing else for the past weeks than how badly I want to kiss you. So believe me when I say that yes, I really really want to kiss you."
The noise that leaves Steven's mouth is the sweetest sound you've ever heard, something between a whine and a moan. You can't believe that he doesn't know what an effect he has on people. But you're happy to show him. 
"Would you- Do you want to- now?", he stumbles over his words, nerves overtaking him as he looks at you with such need in his eyes it almost leaves you breathless. 
Not a moment later you are on him, lips locked with his in a desperate first kiss. You swear you can see fireworks behind your eyelids as your lips connect. Steven whimpers into your mouth and his trembling hands hold onto you for support. In your rush you push Steven into the couch, all but laying on top of him as the two of you kiss to your heart's content. 
You force yourself to break apart from him with a gasp, forcing as much air into your lungs as possible. Steven looks up at you with dreamy eyes and a far away look, his face even more red than before. 
"Could we- Can you do that again?", he all but begs and with a laugh you nod. 
"Yes, Steven. As much as you want, whenever you want."
Immediately he pulls you back on top of him and seals your lips together again in another heedy kiss. 
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christinarowie332 · 5 months
Text
my boys .
chris and matt sturniolo x bestfriend
chris sturniolo x best friend original character
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warnings : drunk character , swearing , will be a part 2 .
———
one drink .
it was supposed to be anyway.
as i sit on the toilet of a random friend of a friends house it suddenly hits me how drunk i actually am . im still , but it feels like im rocking back and forth . am i rocking back and forth?
im not too bad with my drink , as in , i won’t throw up , and i don’t really get hangovers, however my stubbornness always gets the best of me when im drinking . like now , one glass of rose with a friend turns into me on my 7th shot at someone’s house party because i believed my own tolerance was higher then it actually was .
i close my eyes and swallow the acid that tries to surface, my face contorts at the taste and a feel a surge of anxiety fill my spine . is this the night i throw up ?
i open my phone and scroll through my snapchat , random people’s story’s , some from the same party i’m at now . i’m guessing anyway , my blurred vision makes it hard to see anything , especially as i open text messages to ask someone to pick me up , and the text on my keyboard seems to shift and dance around the screen . opening mine and chris’s messages with a slight smile , i start typing . i love that boy .
chrus are you homw?
who the fuck is chrus ?
yes i am home u ok?
drink
hmm?
drunk
oh
can yoi comw pick me up plx i’m with gracee!
i hate grace
me tpo
love yoi tho
i love you too casey
are you at graces house ?
no
okay so where ??
id
id?
just send me your location, i’ll get matt to come pick you up .
but i wann see you ??
i’ll obviously come with him
cant have u puking on his seats !!!!
how tf doe u being there stop me puuilking ??
i’ll catch it with my hands 🥰😍😍
your diss gusting
i’ll slurp it like soup 😜😘
cheis stop ur gonnna makie me throw up
love you
be there iab cdawg
i giggle slightly at the conversation. full confidence in my typing skills as i send him my location and get up from the toilet . too fast . i make my way out side and sit on the porch of the house , scrolling through tiktok as i wait for the boys to come get me . i love them so much .
the cold weather makes it hard for me to scroll properly, the temperature making my fingers work in slow motion as i watch every video on my for you page extremely intensely, trying my hardest to focus on that instead of the hangziety that currently is deciding to reside in my brain . after a few minutes, i hear bass of a car approach the house and lift my head up wobbly, seeing the familiar headlights and number plate .
i smile and attempt to get up , but as i said before . it’s cold as shit . my legs fail me and i only make it half the way up before i start back right where i started . ass on the ground.
“bro”
chris’s croaky voice allows my eyes to snap away from the ground , meeting his raised eyebrows and his dumbfounded smile as he watches me gather my surroundings.
“christopher!” i say happily, getting up slight too fast and stumbling into his chest . his arms catch me around my waist and i look up to him sheepishly , seeing him allready looking at me with a shit eating grin .
“hello casey , come on let’s get you home” he says as he turns me to his side , supporting my weight against his hip and under his arm , making his way to the car .
as we reach the door he opens it and attempts to put me in the back seat . i don’t duck quite as quick and i end up bashing my head against the car doorframe.
“shit sorry!” he says before hissing through his teeth and continues to help me in the car , following my own path and sitting next to me in the back . i rub my head dramatically and slowly look to chris beside me , his smile not meeting his eyes as he looks at my hand and takes it away from my head , looking for bruising .
his one hand stays on mine as the other brushes my hair from my forehead, making sure i wasn’t hurt . my eyes stay on him . his lips curled in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed in worry . he meets my eyes and smiles . then they move down to his other hand that is still on mine in my lap . he tries to pull it away awkwardly but in drunken confidence i grab it . swinging my body around and laying on his side , putting my head on his shoulder . after a few minutes he relaxes , and i feel his curls touch my forehead as his head leans on top of mine . drawing out a sigh of relief from me .
“i feel like a fucking uber driver” matt says from the front , breaking the comfortable silence .
“you are our fucking uber driver” i reply , my eyes still closed against chris’s shoulder. i feel chris’s shoulders move as he laughs , making me smile and open my eyes .
“oh so i’m getting paid for this ?” he says looking at me through the mirror.
i stay silent
“i know your not asleep casey i can see your eyes”
i close my eyes .
————-
idk i’ll post part 2 tomorrow i just cba to do the whole thing now lmao !!!
@querenciasturniolo @ermdontmindthisaccount @recklesssturniolo @udonotknowme @iheart2021chris @its-jennarose @oversturn @plasticferal @paper-crab @parkerssecrets @strniohoeee @daddyslilchickenfingers @flowerxbunnie @kvtie2 @kenzieiskoolaid @kvtie444 @lovingmattysposts @loveesiren @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @littlebookworm803 @chrisenthusiast @carolsturns1 @bluesturniolo333 @biimpanicking @nickdevora @mattslolita @mattsbratt @mangosrar @starsessense @rac00ns-are-c00l4
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yeehawpim · 6 months
Note
dunno if you've answered an ask similar to this or not, but what's the best place to start as an amateur comic maker?
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lol as an amateur comic maker take my advice with a grain of salt😅
here's a post I did at one point about art tips?
here's a post about my process personally
comics are super broad and there's not really a wrong way to start I don't think. id say
Look at what you like. Can be comics and it can be other media too: a lot of my inspiration is webtoons, youtube video essays, interviews with dnd actual play ppl, disney animation... ABSORB the things you're interested in and morph it into a brain soup and barf it back out lol. A lot of seeing new content for me is also just discovering what's possible. I read The Lies Of Locke Lamora and was like. WTF NOVELS CAN BE FUNNY??? Look at advice on how ppl make that type of content, try to examine why you like it, and adopt the parts you want
Don't get caught up on the things you don't want to do/have no interest in. Comics don't HAVE to be a certain way, if you're like me and don't wanna spend forever rendering an image you can draw characters that take 10sec 😂if you have only an aesthetic in mind and no story, draw smth that evokes that for you even if it takes hours to paint a horrifying guts monster.
Draw whatever tf you want and have fun. It might take you a while to figure out how you want to draw comics for it to be fun— I didn't land on this style I'm using until like, legit 4 months ago and I've been drawing for years so 👍don't be afraid to change it up whenever you feel like it
Edit: OH YEAH this is more of a side note lol don't get too disappointed if through finding what you like to do it turns out comics isn't it. I went to school for animation and I still love movement, it looks super pretty to me. But I don't have the patience most of the time, I just want to slap a story down lol
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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 month
Text
The Pirate (Dad Squad)
EVERYBODY COME GET YOUR LINEBECK SOUP!!
Abel shook the strange feeling off of himself as they stepped through the gate created by the item. If it had led them here, that likely meant its twin had opened a portal to this land as well.
Blinking a few times to reorient after the brief kaleidoscope of light, Abel took in the sight of a bright sun, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of crashing waves. They were obviously by the ocean, though he had no idea where in particular, or what sea. He only knew of the Lanayru Sea, but tales spoke of other bodies of water that rivaled it.
Rusl walked ahead first, adapting quickly, eyes alert but face placid. Abel watched the Fierce Deity walk after him, unreadable as usual.
Something clearly caught their attention as they stood at the edge of the dock, staring. Abel peeked around them, wondering what it was, when he caught sight of the scene.
A ship was sinking. But it was moving towards them. Its deck had just been submerged, and its mast was all that was remaining. A man stood atop it, glaring ahead fiercely as if willing the boat to make it to the dock in time, but his posture was proud as if this had been planned all along.
What in the world...?
The mast managed to reach the dock in the nick of time, allowing the man to step off. He blew out a sigh, looking like his knees were about to buckle, when he caught sight of the group of men. He sized them up quickly, eyes widening a little at the sight of the deity, and then waved sharply. "How's it going? I'm just passing through. Gotta go now. Important things to do."
"Wait," Rusl interrupted, stepping into his way. "Can you tell us where we are?"
The man blinked, hackles less raised, confusion evident. "Where you--this is Mercay Island. How do you not know that? What, you get clocked by those red spandex wearing freakshows too?"
Abel immediately stiffened. "The Yiga were here?!"
"The who?" the man bounced back, looking even more confused as the wind whipped through his dark brown hair.
"It's a group of demon worshippers," Rusl explained. "They've taken our sons. We're tracking them. Where did you see them?"
The man's face flushed, eyebrows coming together in outrage. "They took someone of mine as well! And he's my best crewmate! Well, he's my only crewmate, but that isn't the point! I came here in search of a new ship to track them down since they--they sunk--"
Here the man sniffled, glancing away in seeming anguish at the lost of his boat.
"I'm sorry about your ship," Rusl said appeasingly. "But perhaps we can help each other."
The man hummed, crossing his arms and squinting at them as if he were debating the matter.
Abel started to grow impatient. "Do you want to find your crewmate or not?"
"Don't get short with me!" the man snapped. "I am Linebeck, captain of the seas, and I know this place better than anyone, especially you guys. I'm your only chance to find those freaks, so you're going to take orders from me now!"
The Fierce Deity picked the greasy looking man by the back of his coat, bringing him to eye level. The man, in turn, squealed, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate maneuver to get out of the hold, yelling, "LET ME GO, YOU BEACHED WHALE!"
Abel glanced at the deity, tempted to tell him to toss the man into the sea, but if he truly had seen the Yiga, then they unfortunately needed his help. Rusl just sighed, seeming to grow a little tired of being the sole negotiator of the group.
"How do you propose we find the Yiga if your ship has been damaged?" Fierce asked, silencing the man's squeals. "If I retrieve it, will you be able to repair it expediently?"
"Retrieve--it's sinking into the sea, you small brained land mass!"
Abel did have to almost laugh at that one. Rusl looked unimpressed by the man's impolite demeanor, but at least his insults were entertaining. Nevertheless, they needed to move.
Fierce seemed to sense Abel's impatience and Rusl's disapproval, casually tossing the sailor aside as he walked up to the mast. The man spluttered, shakily trying to get to his feet before promptly falling back on to his backside as he watched the deity singlehandedly start to pull the ship out of the water with a firm grasp at its mast. Abel heard the wood start to give, though, not tolerating the force it took to fight the water crushing the rest of the ship, and he put a hand on Fierce's shoulder. "Let it go. We'll have to find another way."
Rusl turned to Linebeck. "We'll work with you, friend, but not for you. Understood?"
Linebeck gulped, still trying to process what he just saw, and then he huffed, rising. "F-fine. Whatever. But I'm still in charge."
Abel felt his eyebrows pinch together. "That's not--"
"Let's go!" Linebeck announced, twirling around and marching towards the island. "I know just the ship we can acquire."
The three trudged behind him somewhat reluctantly. Abel bristled at being given orders from someone like this, but he kept his mouth shut for now. Instead, it was the sea captain who spoke first.
"So... what are all your names?" he asked as he continued to stride ahead.
The Ordonian answered first. "I'm Rusl. This is Abel, and Fierce."
"Fierce?" Linebeck repeated, glancing back at him. "Weird name."
"It is my title," Fierce clarified.
"Title? Who calls you Fierce? Fierce what, Fierce Breaker of Personal Boundaries?"
This man talked entirely too much.
"What's the plan?" Abel asked before the conversation could continue.
"That ship," Linebeck said, pointing towards a relatively large ship sitting in the harbor. "We can use that to track those scum."
"If you already had another ship, why were you perturbed at the loss of your other one?" Fierce questioned.
"It's not his," Abel surmised quickly.
Rusl smiled, rolling his shoulders. "All right, then. Who owns it?"
Abel glanced over at the Ordonian, a little baffled. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around what kind of work this man did - he was the most polite and kind of the group, easy with people, yet he condoned stealing in a heartbeat.
Not that Abel wouldn't steal if he had to, but... he had to. Rusl was... he didn't know. This just certainly was not the first time the man had done it, that was for sure.
And clearly, this sailor was more akin to a pirate.
Sighing heavily, Abel listened as Linebeck prattled on about some women "who won't be a problem," and the three men started moving steadily towards the boat.
Surprisingly, it only seemed to have two women aboard - Linebeck claimed that the rest of the crew was at the market. That at least made things simpler.
The four moved quickly. Rusl crouched low, leading the way and pulling out a dagger he hid in his belt. Despite being quite the swordsman, Abel had observed that Rusl often resorted to a dagger in close combat, and the more he saw it, the more he questioned the blacksmith's occupation. Fierce, on the other hand, left his hands open, likely not wanting to use his powerful blade on a couple women guarding a ship. Linebeck was also unarmed, curiously.
Sighing, Abel unsheathed his sword. He caught up to Rusl, and the two rushed up the gangway, picking a target and quickly overpowering them. Rusl never unsheathed his dagger, only using its small hilt to smack the woman across the temple, knocing her unconscious and covering her mouth as she fell. Her companion caught sight of him before Abel could get to her, yelling, but Abel easily tossed her overboard while Rusl pushed the other down the ramp.
Fierce walked aboard next, glancing around, while Linebeck sauntered aboard. The pirate's face was tight, as if he hadn't quite expected the ferocity the men had displayed, but he tried to cover it with a quick little, "Well done. Now we can depart."
"Not yet," Fierce said quietly, his voice in that low tone he used when stalking prey. Abel immediately went alert, whirling to find what he was looking at, when--
"Intruders!!"
Turning sharply, Abel saw a woman pointing from a door leading below deck. Within an instant, at least ten other women appeared, all armed and snarling.
"You said they were in the market!" Abel yelled as he readied for a fight.
Linebeck didn't reply, seemingly vanishing into thin air, and Abel only caught sight of his blue tailcoats slipping under a barrel.
"Did--did he just--"
"Not now!" Rusl snapped as their enemies charged on them.
Abel focused quickly, dodging a strike from a nearby fighter before parrying her blade and kicking her away to create some distance. Thankfully, he still had at least one functional shield left, and he quickly used it to block a jab from another enemy. Before he could retaliate, the two women were swept away by a... screaming woman?
Abel glanced to his right to see Fierce holding one of the fighters by her wrist and using her as a weapon to ram into the others. At his questioning glance, the deity explained, "The little hero usually does not approve of killing mortals. If these women prove problematic, I'll eliminate them, but for now--"
"Behind you!" Abel interrupted, pointing as another fighter tried to leap off the rail of the deck and stab Fierce in the head. The deity swatted her like a fly, and she rammed into the opposite end of the ship.
"Jolene!" some of the others shouted. Abel immediately perked up at the reaction - clearly this woman was important, maybe even the leader.
"Toss her off!" Abel ordered the deity, moving to intercept a few other enemies. He glanced to his left to check on Rusl and found the Ordonian starting to accumulate a pile of enemies who were on the ground writhing or motionless.
The former knight felt a swell of pride for his friend before looking back to see Fierce easily throwing the leader off the ship. As predicted, the others followed to check on her, leaving the men in peace temporarily. Abel put his sword and shield away to pull out his bow and arrows while Rusl pulled the gangway up to prevent them from returning. Moving to the edge of the ship, Abel nocked the arrow, aiming for a second before letting it fly. It sank into the woman's shoulder, making her scream in pain.
He nocked another arrow.
"Abel," Rusl interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The fight is over."
Abel continued to stare at his target. Killing her would put the rest of her crew into chaos. It would prevent them from following them.
Rusl's hand tightened a little, reassuring but firm. "Abel."
Sighing, Abel slowly lowered the bow and arrow. His focus was interrupted as he heard splashing, glancing over to see Fierce throwing the bodies overboard.
There was a scrape of wood on wood, catching the men's attention, and they all drew their weapons to see--
Linebeck, peeking out from under the barrel. "Oh, are they all gone?"
I'm going to kill him. Abel marched forward, eyes alight with rage, when he was held back by Fierce, who pinched the back of his tunic to prevent him from moving ahead. He turned to snap at the deity, but his words were quickly overrun by the pirate, who dusted himself off and continued, "Well done, then! We're ready to set sail! I'll man the helm."
As he moved forward on the deck, he scurried all of a sudden, filled with seemingly feral energy, and stood on his tiptoes at the railing, shouting, "THAT'S FOR ALMOST BLOWING UP MY SHIP TWO WEEKS AGO, JOLENE!"
Before anyone could comment, he rushed to set sail as if his life depended on it, guiding the ship out to sea.
Abel blew out a frustrated breath, and he felt Fierce release him. He kicked the barrel under which the pirate had been hiding, taking little satisfaction from it but having to get his anger out somehow.
Rusl took a moment to calm himself as well, though far less noticeably, before he walked over to the wheel. "So where are we going?"
"Bannan Island," Linebeck answered, eyes on the horizon. "That was the direction they went, towards the north sea. They also claimed to be going to a Banana Island, so I think they heard the place's name wrong."
Banana Island. Goddess. Sometimes Abel was almost embarrassed that these were his enemies. Though it simply proved that sheer numbers could cause enough of a threat, despite how idiotic they were.
There was silence for a while as Marcay Island grew steadily smaller. The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and Abel slowly slid to the ground, feeling his stomach grow steadily more upset at the tossing of the waves.
"Who are these people, anyway?" Linebeck eventually asked, glancing at Rusl. "What do they want?"
"They essentially want to see the world burn," Rusl answered, crossing his arms. "Somehow that involves taking our sons hostage."
Linebeck pursed his lips, debating some issue, and sighed. "Well, that's rotten luck. Good thing you have me."
"Oh yes," Abel huffed. "Where would we be without you?"
Linebeck didn't seem to catch his quip, or if he did, his rebuttal was interrupted by Fierce asking, "Why did they take your crewmate?"
Linebeck's face soured, and he glared ahead of him at nothing in particular. "Whatever the reason, Link can probably get himself of out of it. But... I need a crew. So I'm finding the kid."
Link?!
No. Surely not. There was no way this disgrace of a man had a Hero in his crew, and--
Oh goddess he did, didn't he? That would be why the Yiga targeted him.
"Our boys are named Link too," Rusl said, eyes widening a little as he came to the same conclusion. "Heroes of Hyrule, spread across time. I think they must be targeting them because they know they'd stop them otherwise."
"Heroes? Hyrule?" Linebeck repeated, staring at him. "My kid isn't a--I mean, he's--look, he's my crew, and... he's a good kid, but..."
The pirate bit his lip, staring at the wheel a moment, still and silent. Worry etched every feature before he shook his head.
"The Yiga will perish," Fierce assured him. "We'll find your child."
Linebeck flushed. "H-he's not my child!!"
"Right," Rusl chuckled, patting the man on the back.
Abel sighed, ignoring the pirate temporarily and looking at at sea. The horizon bounced up and down along with the ship, giving him a headache, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if they'd actually have any luck this time - all they'd found were scraps of information and cold leads. This attack seemed fairly fresh, so hopefully they could make it in time.
Ugh. Closing his eyes made the seasickness worse.
Thunder rumbled, catching Abel's attention, and he hastily opened his eyes to see dark clouds ahead. "Uh..."
"Are we going to sail through the storm?" Fierce questioned, staring at the abysmal weather.
"No sailor goes through a storm on purpose," Linebeck immediately said. "That's just suicide. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sailor. We'll skirt around it - I don't want to lose too much time."
At least Abel could agree with the man on that. But still... even he, someone who did not navigate the ocean, knew not to get near a storm out in the open sea. "Are we sure about this? We should probably try to avoid it altogether."
"And give those sea vipers time to get away?" Linebeck growled, glaring at the clouds. "Ha! I, Linebeck, master of the seas, can handle this just fine! I'm getting my crew back, blast it!"
Well... he couldn't fault him for his determination, at least. But still... Abel sighed, hugging the wooden support rung under the railing, lightly bouncing his forehead against it. "We're going to die."
Abel's relatively mild quip felt more and more like a promise the closer they got. The winds picked up, the sea turning a sickly green, and Abel nearly threw up with how much they were being tossed around. Rusl nearly flew across the ship as one wave almost overturned them, and Fierce had to grab him by his shirt to save him. The three men clung to the rail desperately, occasionally getting beaten by walls of water spilling overtop them.
Abel looked to the helm worriedly, feeling completely out of control and petrified, only to see Linebeck standing firmly, holding the wheel with a steel grip. He glared defiantly at the sea, almost daring it to try its worst, confident and firm in his stance.
At the sight, the former knight had to admit he felt almost a little reassured.
Another wave crashed into them, and Abel watched Linebeck release the wheel a moment, letting it turn sharply, guiding the ship to ride with the wave. Then he grasped it, guiding the mast with gritted teeth as he fought against the whipping winds. Fierce pulled Abel close, shielding both him and Rusl with an iron grip to the railing so the waves wouldn't knock them off.
Honestly, with the way they were getting tossed, Abel would be surprised if they didn't capsize. He clung desperately to both the rail and the Fierce Deity, feeling the mythical being's strong arm pressing him and Rusl closer together. Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, some kind of finality or certainty in each other's eyes as they nearly flew over another wave, facing it head on.
They still had to find their boys. Abel had to get back to Tilieth. He'd survived a damn apocalypse, he wasn't letting this be what killed him.
Glancing up at the pirate again, Abel saw the same fierce determination on his face. It was a promise, and despite how Abel's entire world was trying to kill him, he took comfort in it.
Abel closed his eyes, his forehead touching Fierce's sleeve, his hand brushing against Rusl's as they both held on to the deity for dear life, shivering and trusting and letting go.
Hylia... I leave this up to you. Don't let me down.
He lost track of time. All he heard was the crashing of waves, like claps of thunder, roaring in his ears, making his heart pound. But slowly, surely, the boat jostled them less, the wind didn't howl as it had, and the ship rocked and bounced up and down like a hammock instead of feeling like an earthquake.
Abel opened his eyes, dripping wet, tasting salt and bile, and saw sunlight.
Linebeck smiled down at them, hands on his hips, looking triumphant. "Told you I was the best."
Rusl barked out a laugh, slowly rising while Abel continued to shiver in Fierce's hold. "Well, I'm certainly impressed."
"Are you alright?" Fierce whispered softly, his arm shifting to rest his hand on Abel's back.
Hesitantly, Abel rose, testing his legs, though his knees certainly felt like they could give out at any moment.
It was official. He despised sailing.
But he could recognize and admire skill when he saw it. "Well done, Linebeck."
The pirate beamed, postiively preening at the praise, and Abel found he couldn't hold himself together any longer, leaning over the rail and vomiting.
Linebeck cackled quietly, heading back to his original spot. "Well, it isn't for everyone, I guess. But I promise the rest of the way is less rough."
Rusl helped Abel sink back to the floor while Fierce grabbed some water at the Ordonian's request.
"You good?" Rusl asked. He was shivering too, just as soaked to the bone as Abel, but he seemed far better put together.
"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Abel asked hoarsely, somewhat annoyed and jealous.
Rusl smirked. "We all have our strengths. You're certainly a better fighter than me."
If you say so. Abel pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little less nauseous, and accepted the water Fierce offered him.
The sun slowly dried everyone off as they continued to make their way to their destination. Eventually, Rusl, being the talkative man that he was, starting gently interrogating their captain while Abel leaned against Fierce with his eyes closed. The deity didn't mind, letting himself be a pillow, but Abel could hear fabric shift as he turned to listen in to the other two.
"How did Link become part of your crew?"
"Well, I was hunting treasure," Linebeck explained. "Link wanted to find the ship I was looking for. His friend, uh, needed some help. So we worked together. I figured the kid worked so well it only made sense that he stick around. He..."
Here the pirate paused, and Abel looked over at him. His eyes were cast downward, and though shadows pulled at the dark circles under his eyes, he had a gentle smile on his face.
"He's a good kid."
Fierce sighed quietly, barely audible over the breeze. "I must figure out why these Yiga are after our children."
Linebeck grew flustered. "I said he wasn't my kid!! Look, he's just a useful member of the crew, okay? Honestly, I'm not that soft!"
Fierce blinked, the slightest crinkle to his nose, a dead giveaway that he was bemused. "You speak of love and affection as if they are weaknesses."
"Wha--I--this is silly, I am a pirate, and--"
"And?" Rusl prompted, eyebrows raised, a mischievous, gentle smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Fierce may not have understood the man's blustering, but Rusl clearly was just trying to mess with him now, seeing right through his bravado.
Personally, Abel was just a little exasperated by it. Men who pretended they were "tough" and nothing affected them all the time simply to show off annoyed him. He used to maintain a calm façade not because he was trying to prove a point, but because the last thing people needed was to see someone in charge panicking. This was different. This wasn't a way to keep others feeling safe and secure, this wasn't a means of protecting others, this was a pitiful attempt for Linebeck to protect himself.
Perhaps it wouldn't annoy him so much if he didn't suspect the man behaved this way in front of his kid too. He could act a fool to others, but if he denied his affection for his boy right in front of him, Abel did not approve of that.
But he didn't have to say anything. Fierce's innocent confusion would tear down his argument well enough.
Linebeck huffed, looking like he was scrambling for an argument, but Abel had to interrupt it when he caught sight of something. "Is that land?"
Everyone turned to look, seeing a small splotch of yellow and black andd green, and Linebeck laughed triumphantly. "There it is! Land ho! I told you I would get us there in record time! Now hold on, you sorry land slugs, we're coming in fast!"
He was true to his word as it seemed to take little time to reach their destination. For once, it was blessedly easy to find their target - a large ship with the Yiga symbol on its mast, painted sloppily as if it had just been done, was at the port. Linebeck worked to slow their approach, when Abel instead insisted, "Don't slow us down, just ram it - we'll take care of the rest!"
"There's a cannon on this ship," Rusl noted.
"We can't risk hurting the boys if they're aboard," Abel argued, shaking his head. "Just damage it enough to stop them from escaping, and we can board."
Linebeck nodded. "Just so you know... it's uh, all up to you once we get there. I'm a fantastic fighter, but I'm afraid my sword is on my own ship."
Rusl and Abel both stared at him dully. "Right."
The men prepared themselves, weapons at the ready. Fierce pulled out his double helix blade, making Linebeck's eyes double in size. "Geez, overkill much? Get ready, we'll hit them on the port side."
"The--the what side?"
"Port, on the port--ugh, on your left!!"
The three moved, and Linebeck snapped, "Your other left!! Left from facing the bow!"
Abel sighed heavily, positioning himself and bracing for impact alongside the other two. As the Yiga ship grew closer at an admittedly unnerving rate, he prepared to jump.
Their boat slammed the Yiga ship, impaling its hull slightly and causing it to rock so severely that they could hear some of the enemies screaming and falling into the sea.
Linebeck roared in satisfaction. "HAHA, TAKE THAT YOU BRAINLESS JELLYFISH!"
Abel let the momentum of the movement carry him, Rusl, and Fierce across as they leapt with the contact. The Yiga boat was still nearly on its side when they landed, causing them to slip a little, but Abel recovered quickly, decapitating the first Yiga in sight before moving on to the next. The team moved quickly, with Fierce taking out swathes of the enemy in one fell swoop while Rusl tore ahead. Abel scoured the area for signs of a leader, entering the underbelly of the ship as well.
When he reached the brig, he froze, breath stolen from his lungs. There was another gate there, its bright kaleidoscope dizzyingly swirling, and two Yiga stood before it, holding an unconscious boy.
Oh hell no! Charging ahead, Abel stabbed one Yiga quickly, kicking the other off the child before finishing him off. Rusl hastened in shortly thereafter, wiping blood of his sword.
"Anyone else?" Abel asked as he knelt down to check on the child.
Rusl shook his head, cheeks flushed, eyes aflame. He held up a booklet. "Found a journal log, though. Might be able to help us."
At this point, Abel honestly wasn't surprised, just exasperated. He supposed the Yiga's main purpose in being here was to take this boy. Theirs were still at large.
At least they'd spared this boy the same fate.
Fierce entered last. "The enemy has been eliminated."
Abel sighed, looking down. The boy in front of him was young, not even a teenager from the looks of it, though he was likely close. His hair was thick and wispy, golden as the sands and thick with mositure and sea salt. He wore a green tunic and undershirt, paired with white trousers.
"Link!"
Catching the men's attention, Linebeck rushed into the room, kneeling down beside the boy. His hands hovered over him hesitantly, face paling at the abrasions on the boy's face. At first his concern was genuine, but his eyes shifted to the dead Yiga around him and suddenly he looked woozy.
Abel fought the urge to roll his eyes. He motioned with his head to Fierce, who quietly removed the bodies. With the distraction gone, the pirate returned his attention to the child, considerably less pale but still oh so hesitant and gentle with Link.
The boy stirred, squeezing his eyes before slowly blinking them open. Abel could see the immediate sparkle of relief as the boy registered seeing Linebeck, and the former knight smiled a little.
Linebeck smiled in return, hands finally settling on the child, patting hsi cheek and helping him sit up. His grip settled on the boy's shoulders, and he took a steadying breath.
And then he started shaking him like a rag doll.
"You stupid sea monkey, what were you thinking do you have any idea how much trouble I had to go through just to get to you, they sank my ship, now we have to get a new one--!"
The other men stared, a little caught off guard, and then Rusl gently pointed out, "Easy, you're going to give the kid whiplash."
Linebeck paused, glancing at them, leaving Link nearly limp in his grip, eyes dazed and clearly dizzy. The pirate huffed, pulling the boy to his feet, and Link stumbled around a few paces before nearly collapsing against him.
Sighing, Linebeck settled an arm around the child to keep him from falling over, letting him lean against him. "Well. The job's done, at least. But... didn't you say your boys were missing too?"
Rusl smirked. "Ah, so he is your boy?"
Linebeck jumped, eyes widening. "W-wha--no, I--you're dodging the question!"
Rusl waved the booklet in response. "I'm sure this log will have valuable information for us. But you and your son should get out of here. We'll make sure the Yiga can't come back."
Linebeck was practically inflating with hot air to rebuke Rusl's claims about him and Link, but he instead stormed out. "Honestly, I rescue you ungrateful sea barnacles and you mock me. I'm leaving."
"You forgot your kid," Abel noted dully as the boy shook his head and steadied himself.
"Link, let's go, what are you waiting for!" Linebeck called from above deck.
Abel put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder while Rusl smiled warmly at him. "Better get going, son."
The boy looked between them, adn then the Fierce Deity, and then he nodded, saying softly, "Thank you. Thank you for taking care Linebeck."
With that, the kid ran outside, and Rusl laughed. Abel had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.
"Let's get through this gate and seal it," Abel suggested. "We can read the journal after we get out of here. The less likely they can come back, the better."
Fierce's reply was cut off by voices from above.
"Linebeck, look! It's Jolene's ship!"
"Of course it is, I stole it!"
"But then why is your ship over there?"
"What?! My ship was--that's my ship!"
"Oh! I think I see Jolene on it!"
"She fixed my ship? SHE STOLE MY SHIP??"
Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, and then they both snickered.
Fierce glanced hesitantly above deck, but Abel shook his head. "Leave him to his fate. Clearly this is not their first encounter, and they've managed without us. We should go."
With that, the three men strode forward, preparing for another adventure.
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 3 months
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Okay, I'll continue talking! So as we all know, RC9GN frequently involves characters being turned into rampaging monsters through no real fault of their own. And then there's Evil Julian, who was a whole thing. What I'm saying is, the Ninja cast are not strangers to the idea of people being forced into evil the way Chase was... but I don't think Chase goes around telling people about his tragic backstory unless he's trying to make a point. So, like, do any of them know Chase is technically under the influence of a mind-altering substance? That he didn't want to be like this, he just didn't want his best friend to leave him behind? Under what circumstances might the First Ninja find out? Under what circumstances might Randy find out?
Of course, what happened to Chase is definitely not the same thing as what happens to people under the Sorcerer's influence. For one, it's a lot more permanent. It's pretty clear in Xiaolin Showdown that Chase is too far gone and can't be cured at this point, if he ever could have been. The only way to stop him from ending a haughty, self-centered dragon would be to stop him from drinking the soup to begin with. And he's still himself on some level. As you said, he still has honor, he can still care, he's still capable of independent rational thought. It seems less like possession and more like very targeted (evil) brain damage. At the same time, this does mean it's technically possible for Chase to turn his back on what he's become. He may never be who he was again, but he can still change, as Omi believes he can. Though jury's out if he believes he can change. Anyway, there's a lot of drama to be wrung out of this, especially if the First Ninja realizes he probably would have liked the man Chase used to be.
Also, I'm just saying, the First Ninja denying that he chained up his evil husband to stop Chase from hurting people while he searches for a cure to the curse that makes Chase evil would be very funny.
OKAY OW HANG ON LISTEN The idea of First deciding to chain up Chase not just because he is an evil menace, but also in order to find a cure for his transformation, hit me so unexpectedly hard in the feels, like FR DUDE???? OW???
(Even if it is a bit of funny mental image AND the wording 'targeted evil brain damage' made me snort so hard, oh my god im so sorry.)
There is an argument/theory about how technically Chase doesn't need to constantly drink the Soup (based on how in alternative future, captured by Jack, Chase didn't drink it in captivity, and as soon as he was released he was kinda bordering on 'feral' lizard mode - Soup helps him keep in control AND keep ahold of his human form, rather that he is absolutely dependant on it), but he does it because he is, well, basically addicted to it.
SO it would be more of First chaining his Evil Brain Damaged Addict of (totally not a) Husband in order for to find a most likely nonexisting cure to his cursed (????) transformation. The ANGST POTENTIAL of it.
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And your first points are so interesting and absolutely valid! Chase's situation can be compared to Stank-ification, but you know what would make an even more interesting comparison? The Sorcerer himself.
I think we often forget that technically, Sorcerer situation is him being separated from his humanity and twisted into an immortal monster by Chaos Pearls, because he - as the Peddler - made one decision, one mistake, after being seduced by power greater than him. Sounds familiar doesn't it?
Of course there are a few key differences here:
Sorcerer is literally separated with his human self (soul perhaps??) that is trapped in Land of Shadows, while Chase's humanity seems to have been surpressed and/or muted by his Draconic Self. (or perhaps stolen with his soul by Hannibal, which is a popular theory about how exactly Roy Bean/Soup turned Chase.)
Chase's change is permanent. While Sorcerer situation is possible to fix - it literally happens in the finale.
BUT!!! no one actually knew it was possible to fix before. At least no one gave any indication that it was a known fact about Sorcerer's humanity still existing somewhere in Chaos Realm/Land of Shadows.
I'm pretty sure First/Norisu Clan believed that the Sorcerer was a human changed and twisted into an immortal by chaos. Impossible to kill and impossible to return to normal - that's why he was imprisoned. To keep him contained.
I mean, couldn't First Ninja, after capturing The Sorcerer, try to get his human self from the Land of Shadows himself, if he knew? After all he had access to a Chaos Ball! But he didn't know there was anything to be recovered, that the Sorcerer could be actually unmade just by reuniting him with his human half.
(At least thats my personal HC, but im pretty sure the canon show just retconned/fumbled a bit the whole Sorcerer resolution lol.)
SO just imagine. First learns about Chase's past. And he is freaking aghast. Here is another twisted by evil, but while he and his brothers failed to save those changed that they first encountered (the 'killed first stanked monsters' theory tie in!), they managed to save those that came after. And if First could, he would have tried to save The Sorcerer, no matter how much he hates him. But... Chase is different. There is still something of humanity left in him. Perhaps he can save Chase.
And from Chase's pov? He sees how Ninja saved Stanked people, and he doesn't even consider those situations as similar to his. Sure, people are turned into monsters, but he was turned into a monster by his own choice, there is nothing to save him from. (Isn't there?)
But he watches as First releases those people from the clutches of chaos, watches as he tries so hard to save them... And maybe it makes him yearn, that someone tried just a little bit harder to save the 'him' before he made that choice.
And if First cages Chase and says: "I want to help you. To Cure you." It will certainly enrage Chase - because who does this man think he is, tryin to contain and cure THE Heylin Prince of Darkness, like he is some halpless trapped commoner??? He came to be long before this man's Clan existed and he will be there long after this man will become dust.
But also... maybe deep deep deep inside, Chase is... confused? and pleased? - that someone like Fist Ninja grew to care enough for him to try and save him, even if there is nothing to be saved.
So they would be at this standstill, where First is trying to help a cause that isnt quite possible to fix, and Chase is... well, being Chase.
But, yeah, certainly another amazing thought process from you Anon <3, I've been trying to answer this ask for so long, because every time i start to write i get overcome with emotions about those scenarios like...damn. It's funny, but also the possible drama of all of this... hnnnfgggg
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cursedworms · 10 months
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hozier girlies stay winning the man literally has not and never will write a bad song and that’s on PERIOD, unreal unearth is going to shatter every bone in my body and turn my brain into a piping hot soup in the best possible way I just know it
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cactusnymph · 9 months
Text
the right ingredients
Even when he was a child himself Gale was never good at dealing with other children. Burying himself in books all day and using the biggest words he could find to sound impressive and to be as precise as he could never really resonated with most other children—or adults, for that matter.
So when Tav walks over with a child in tow as he carefully cuts some onions for tonight’s dinner, Gale is wary. She is scrawny, with a mop of red hair and two differently colored eyes. The most important thing about her is the fat, fluffy cat at her side, staring at him with huge eyes as if he might throw it in the soup at any second.
“Gale, this is Yenna. She’s staying with us for a while. I thought she could help you cook?”, Tav says with a smile. Gale wishes that smile wouldn’t turn his brain into something that feels much like the bubbling soup in the cauldron looks. He clears his throat.
“Uh—“, he starts, unsure of what he wants to say. The child looks so big-eyed that Gale is afraid she might start crying at any second and that would most likely be even worse than having her cut some carrots. “Have you ever cooked before?”
She shuffles and nods.
“Yes, I’m real good at it! I can make all kinds of stuff. Porridge and omelets and squash soup and—“
As Yenna continues to list a total of eleven dishes she can cook, Tav rustles her hair with a soft look on their face that makes Gale’s insides tingle. Oh, he wishes he didn’t feel the unnecessary pang of jealousy just because he wants them to touch his hair and smile at him the same way. Emotions are to terribly silly.
Gale coughs.
“Well, that sounds very impressive indeed. Yenna, was it? I suppose I can make way for an assistant. Usually I don’t allow others to interfere in my nightly cooking, but! Since our fearless leader recommended your prowess I shall—“
He stops himself as Tav looks at him with an amused smile.
“Right”, he says, catching himself. “How about you peel some of those potatoes over there?”
“Yes! I can do that, sir!”
“Mind me sitting here while you work?”, Tav asks, their head tipped in Gale’s direction. Once again he marvels at the fact that he never really spent much time with anyone, let alone a Tiefling.  Tav’s dark blue skin is not unlike the nightsky, especially with the white freckles covering their entire face and their muscular arms. Gale would like to pretend that he does not spend innumerable minutes of every single day staring at their biceps. But he would be lying to himself, of course.
He allows himself to follow the curvature of their horns and gaze at their glowing white eyes before turning to Yenna.
“So, I see you have a cat companion! As do I. What’s their name?”
“This is Grub”, Yenna says, her tongue sticking out between her lips as she peels a large potato that looks even bigger in her tiny hands. “He’s shy. What’s your cat’s name?”
Gale carefully dumps some sliced onions into the bubbling liquid.
“Her name is Tara. She’s been my companion for a long time and I miss her dearly.”
Yenna smiles at him. She has a front tooth missing.
“Do you also have a cat?”, she asks Tav who is casually chewing on a piece of carrot.
“No, I don’t. Always wanted one, but my pops was allergic”, Tav says with a rueful sigh. Gale notices that their eyes linger on Grub but they keep their respectful distance. Considering Tav’s habit of speaking to every single animal they come across Gale can imagine that they asked permission to pet Grub—and were denied.
Yenna is quiet for a while as she peels potatoes and Gale does his best not to comment on the uneven peeling. He can imagine that Tav would not appreciate him reprimanding a child for less than optimal peeling techniques.
Usually Gale doesn’t allow anyone else to intrude on his cooking, but he has to admit that it’s not too bad to keep his territorial habits in check for a bit, if just to bask in the delightful companionship of Tav. And even though Gale usually doesn’t deal well with children, Yenna doesn’t seem to mind his presence or the way he speaks.
She asks for the meaning of every ‘big’ word that he uses and listens intently as he explains and Tav watches the two of them with a glint in their white eyes.
“This smells so good already”, Yenna sighs and sniffs the air with her eyes closed. “Can I stir it?”
“Certainly”, Gale allows and Yenna grabs the big wooden spoon excitedly before dunking it into the soup. Gale doesn’t cringe. He doesn’t. This is a child in distress that deserves every piece of distraction she can get. Gale can let her stir his soup even though she stirs it as if the spoon is running away from a goblin horde.
“Maybe in the morning you could teach me how to make a proper omelet”, Gale says and Yenna almost drops the spoon into the soup.
“Really?”, she says, her eyes impossibly big. It makes Gale’s heart melt. He might not be well equipped to deal with children but their joy is something precious to behold.
“Absolutely! One should never stop to acquire new skills and knowledge”, Gale says with a nod and a little bow that makes Yenna giggle. Finally, she hands him back the spoon and sits cross-legged on the floor next to the fire as she watches him season their dinner, asking about every single herb he adds to the cauldron.
It takes him a while to notice Tav looking at him with a soft expression on their face.
“Now why are you looking at me like that?”, he can’t help but ask. Tav laughs quietly and shrugs.
“Nothing. Just appreciating your efforts”, they say. Gale would love to hear more about what exactly it is that Tav appreciates, but Yenna is still watching him intently so he goes back to holding out a fresh sage leaf to her so she can smell and taste it before he adds it to the soup.
As the smell of his soup spreads through the entire camp the rest of their colorful band of misfits starts gathering around.
“Well, well, well, Gale, have you finally found your match in the kitchen?”, Wyll says, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he settles down next to Tav on the ground.
Gale waves his spoon.
“Yenna has hereby been promoted to assistant chef”, he answers and Yenna beams.
“I will teach Sir Gale how to make an omelet tomorrow!”, she proclaims proudly, Grub now curled in her lap.
“Very impressive! I can’t wait to taste it”, Wyll says with a smile and winks at Yenna.
“Maybe I can also learn how to make some pie! I love pie. Mister Gale, Sir, can you teach me how to make pie?”
Gale thinks that it seems so mundane compared to everything else he’s been doing with his life up to this point. To sit here, around a fire, stirring a soup for a group of people who—in another life—would never have been in his inner social circle, being asked by a child for cooking lessons. It’s so different from everything Gale has experienced while he was with Mystra.
It’s trivial. It’s simple.
And yet it makes his heart sing in an entirely new way.
“I will have you know, I make the very best cherry pie in all of Waterdeep, young lady”, he says with a little flourish, using the spoon to underline his words dramatically. Yenna claps full of excitement. Grub purrs, Tav laughs and Wyll and Karlach shake their heads about his exaggeration.
And for this moment in time Gale thinks that he could be happy after all.
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avatar-anna · 1 year
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i'm sick and projecting. enjoy!
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"Go away, Harry," you groaned, turning over and nestling further into the pillows.
Harry did not in fact go away. He only got closer, the steam of the soup in his hands warming your face. He rested a hand on your forehead before setting the bowl down. "You haven't eaten all day, lovie."
"Leave me alone to die."
"Well, now you're just being dramatic," Harry said, laughing just a little. "You have a cold at best, sinus infection at worst."
You peeked an eye open to glare at him. "That you gave me."
"And now I'm here to nurse you back to health," Harry said, not wavering for a moment, even when you turned over so your back was facing him. He began running a light hand up and down your back, which you begrudgingly leaned into.
"I hate being sick," you pouted.
You felt a kiss to the back of your head. "I know."
"Please hold me."
"Thought I was supposed to leave you alone to die," Harry mused. You only grunted something unintelligible as you pushed the covers back for him. Taking the hint, Harry slid into bed, his chin nestling right in the crook of your neck as his arms snaked around your waist. "You have to eat."
"Stay away from me with that soup. I'm trying to get better, not worse."
"I'm going to let that slide because illness is clearly fogging up your brain," Harry said, lightly pinching your side. "Though I don't remember extreme grumpiness being a side effect of a cold."
You ignored him as another wave of body aches hit you. Whimpering, you said, "Can you keep rubbing my back?"
Harry kissed your cheek, his lips burning against your skin, though not in the usual pleasurable way. Slowly, his fingers trailed around your back, directing your focus to his touch rather than your aches and pains and stuffy nose. "Sure, lovie." Whatever you want."
Your head hurt, you could hardly breathe comfortably, and chills wracked your frame every few minutes, but with Harry there you were able to find rest in the circle of his arms.
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