#man i really want Procreate Dreams so I can make better ones

[i-lavabean]

Another animation test with Elsie because I really just want Procreate Dreams and I don't have it yet

#my art #lavabean art #animation #hand drawn #dr. elsie roberts #elsie roberts #candela obscura fanart #circle of tide and bone #she looks like she's lecturing somebody #it's either Oscar or Raj #man i really want Procreate Dreams so I can make better ones

[devilry-revelry]

Debauchery | Hancock x Female!Sole Survivor

An (ancient) fill from the (ancient) fallout kink meme. I've had a couple of requests for Hancock, so here is one of the better ones I've done.

-

When his fingers caressed the column of her throat, she closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. How long had it been since she had been touched in such a way? His touch was rough but somehow soft, tickling under mangled fingers. An unintelligible sound left her, not a moan, but a very failed attempt at speech.

“Would you let me educate you, Nora?”

-

The Prompt:

Due to Pre-War America's obsession with enforcing a perpetual and idealized '50s, people were not supposed to be sexually adventurous (or even sexual) and the whole of the Female Sole Survivor's sexual experience was the missionary position for the purposes of procreation and *maybe* a little masturbation that she felt really ashamed about.

But now the world has ended and suddenly all the old sexual taboos no longer apply. And it turns out there's a whole world of freaky sex out there F!SS never dreamed of or dared imagine*. And she wants to try all of it.

-

NSFW, Minors Do Not Interact Tags: Pining, Mild bondage, Mild Sensory play, Cunnilingus, Penis in Vagina Sex, Cum play, Old and Poorly Written Smut

//

“Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul—“

Nora’s eyes tore away from the nearly destroyed paperback copy of Jane Eyre when Hancock shuffled in. He had a bottle of bourbon in his hand, looking quite pleased with himself as he took a quick swig. Nora smiled in quiet greeting from her spot in the nearly dilapidated couch. She had a large blanket draped over her lap, her feet tucked on the cushion beside her as she read. It was quiet at the Red Rocket Truck Stop, and that was just the way Nora liked it. The abandoned gas station was her home away from home, a place where she didn’t have to deal with needy settlers - a place where she didn’t have to deal with an even needier Preston Garvey. It was small, but it was one of her favorite haunts. She spruced the place up with some furniture, an old couch – which she was currently curled up on – and a few chairs, and a bed. What initially started out as her own place of peace and quiet turned into their place of peace and quiet. Hancock had managed to make himself a permanent fixture in her life, and she didn’t mind one bit.

“Whaddarwe readin’ t’night, Doll?” The ghoul asked as he approached.

Nora reached out and pulled the blanket back, allowing Hancock to flop into the cushion beside her. Once he was seated, Nora draped the blanket over his lap. She licked her thumb and turned the page of the book just as Hancock leaned into her side. He took another drink of the liquor, his head on her shoulder. He smelled like wood smoke from the fire pit they congregated around to cook their dinner, and the gentle sweetness of the alcohol.

“Jane Eyre,” Nora said fondly.

“When’r’ we gonna read somethin’ exciting?” he slurred softly.

Nora liked Hancock.

Though there were some things that he did that she really disagreed with (his drug use, mainly), she found herself thoroughly enjoying the ghoul’s company. Their travels had started with tentative, nearly forced discussions but they managed to forge a steady relationship in a manner of hours. Gradually, Nora opened up to Hancock and Hancock opened up to her. Their friendship was forged from the heat of the fight. They protected each other, spilled blood together. They ate together – they lived together. Hancock was a good man. As kind as he was cruel, his men had said. They couldn’t be more spot on. There were some days where Nora found it incredibly hard to imagine that the man had staged a bloody coup. It was the same man who spent hours searching for a locket, for a woman who he didn’t even know. It was the same man who helped clean up the young ghoul-boy that they found in a rusted old fridge. Hancock was fierce as he was kind, and Nora found herself trusting the ghoul unconditionally.

“Jane issa prude, and Rochester issa asshole.”

Nora tilted her head to look at the ghoul as he rested against her shoulder. She closed the book over her thumb, “You’ve read Jane Eyre?”

“Told you, Doll,” Another swig of the bourbon. “The Mentats are my ride of choice. I get all intellectual ‘n’ shit.” He threw her a lazy smile as he peered up at her face. Those black eyes of his looked a little glassy, shimmering in the lamp light.

Nora smiled, reaching up to flick one of the corners of his hat. She looked back at the book in her hand, gazing at the faded cover fondly. “Well, Mr. Intellectual,” she said, “I will say to you, that Jane is a product of her time. She is actually quite bold, rising above her station. And Rochester is, indeed, an asshole.”

“Pff,” he snorted. “Bold? Nah, the lady in the tower or the fuckin’ attic. Whatser name? That woman, she got around. Now she was bold.”

“And she got locked up for it. Her… sexual preferences aren’t exactly normal.”

“Nothin’ wrong with a sexually adventurous woman, sweetheart,” Hancock rumbled, his voice low. “She probably liked the good stuff too. Getting’ tied up, ‘n’ spanked and… Why can’t be read Robot Porn? Jane Eyre is too stuffy.”

Nora furrowed her eyebrows, tearing her gaze from the cover of the book. “I’m sorry… being tied up is the good stuff? That sounds awful.”

Hancock’s grin was absolutely wolfish, the glassiness in his eyes noticeably dimming, as if he suddenly chose to no longer be drunk. “Oh, Nora,” he murmured. “Ol’ Nate never tied you up? No silk scarves or rope?"

The way Hancock referred to Nate was nearly endearing. The ghoul spoke about her late husband as if the two had been good friends. Nora didn't mind. Though she still desperately missed Nate, the wounds had ample time to heal. The two would have been fast friends, anyway. Both of them were loyal, and fierce, and passionate about the things that they believed in.

“No! I, we… No!” How could he ask something like that! Nora knew her face was bright red as she opened the book, desperately trying to return to her reading. “Good lord,” she grumbled.

Hancock’s hand slowly slipped into her vision. He closed the book over her thumb. Nora lifted her eyes, dreading her very existence. They weren’t going to talk about this. There was no way!

“Did he ever spank you, Nora? Did he ever bend you over his knee?”

Nora wished that a Deathclaw would rip the door down. She wished that it would charge straight for her and kill her with a single swipe of its claws.

“No! We were a normal married couple. We didn’t do those things.”

Hancock was grinning ear to ear. Nora silently noted that the topic of sex wasn’t what upset her. She would discuss her sex life with the ghoul, no problem. It was the acts he spoke of; the bondage and the spanking. Those had been things that people whispered about, even in the confines of their own home.

“Didn’t you ever suck the poor man off?”

“Suck what off?”

There was an absolutely delighted light in Hancock’s eye as he maneuvered himself so he was facing her, sitting cross legged in the couch.

“Nora!” he laughed, low and dark. “You two never—“

“Look, okay, we… I would be on… I would lie down, and he would be on top, and—“

“You never rode him? Never fucked him? You never made him beg for your sweet—“ Nora lunged forward, the book completely abandoned. It felt to the ground with a soft thwump as Nora clasped her hand over Hancock’s mouth. She was blushing, all bright and vibrant. Hancock grinned behind her hand. She felt the muscles move and shift, felt the taught skin around his mouth constrict. Then, suddenly, his tongue laved over her palm and she yelped, yanking her hand back.

“Come on,” Hancock laughed. “What is the most sexually adventurous thing that you have ever done?”

“… You first…” She groused as she dried her palm on the blanket.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly. “Back before I was this good lookin’ I managed to get two women in my bed—“

Oh. Oh my.

“One woman rode me, while the other sat on my face…”

Nora blinked slowly, “Sorry, she sat on your face?”

That smile again, all wicked and confident and filled with masculine satisfaction.

“I ate her, Nora. I had my tongue inside her—“

Oh. OH.

“—And then I pushed my fingers—“

“Okay! Okay, I get it!” she yelled, waving her hands in front of him. Nora nearly leaned forward and pressed her hand over his mouth again, but she had already learned that lesson.

“Nora, Doll, you are blushing to the roots of your hair!” He leaned forward, playful and teasing. “That is pretty tame! Not even the most adventurous, really.”

Nora suddenly stood, fanning herself with her hand. She was warm, far too warm.

“It’s your turn, Nora.”

She didn’t look back at him, and she didn’t sit back down. There had been the night in the park, but that story was far too embarrassing to divulge.

“We… I mean, we… We showered together once…”

There was laughter. Nora frowned, feeling embarrassed and hot. She cast a glare over her shoulder.

“Oh, F…” She hated swearing, it was unladylike. But this was a special occasion. “Fuck you.”

Hancock had the decency to try and hold back any more laughter. He reached out and took one of her hands, tugging her back into the couch. She flopped down inelegantly, allowing the ghoul to drape one of his arms over her shoulders.

“I’m only teasing, Nora. I know that it was a different time. Hell, it might as well have been a totally different planet. But… Doesn’t any of it excite you? Didn’t you two want to try any of it?”

Nora threw him a withering glance, “I haven’t heard of some of the things you mentioned.”

"That doesn't answer my question."

Hancock brought her in a little closer, and Nora thought it was a rather comforting gesture. She let her head lull into the crook of his arm, and then she sighed heavily. Maybe they were done talking about it, then. She desperately hoped that they were done discussing it, anyway. Jane Eyre was on the ground, and she wanted to read a little more before bed. And, hopefully, she would forget the whole discussion ever took place.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life,” Nora replied without pause.

Hancock hummed, sounding thoughtful. “Do you trust me with something like this?”

“Like what?”

He smiled that smile again, all wicked and laden with dark promise.

Nora didn’t find Hancock attractive in a conventional sense. He was Nate’s polar opposite in nearly every aspect. Small and thin, but he was also taller than her, kinda stringy. Despite his size, though, she had seen him lift a man twice his size and slam him to the ground (she had stared at him in awe after that). His skin was destroyed, he had no nose, there were bits of exposed muscle, and sometimes she suspected that his hips would be nothing but raw bone. There was, however, something incredibly striking about the man. His eyes, though pitch black, were somehow incredibly expressive. When he smiled, when he grinned, he managed to look quite dashing. Paired with his charisma, his personality, Nora did find herself attracted to him, in a way that she wasn’t totally familiar with. It was attraction based on trust, on experience, and his personality. He could make her laugh like no other, make her smile, and he made her happy. There had never been any level of sexual attraction, not really, but suddenly in that moment…

That smile, dark and meaningful, those eyes smoldering in the warm lamp light…

The sexual attraction smacked into her like a Super Mutant’s sledgehammer. Nora suddenly felt quite jarred. Heat pooled in her belly, and her body practically pulsed. She suddenly felt far too warm – and it wasn’t because she was embarrassed. Where did that come from? It had been strictly platonic, and it was like he flipped a switch. If she had seen that smile from across the bar, she would have been mush. If she had seen those eyes gazing at her, glistening in warm lamp light, looking absolutely devilish, she would have followed him to bed with very little question. Hancock somehow garnered an immense amount of animal magnetism in less than a second.

When his fingers caressed the column of her throat, she closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. How long had it been since she had been touched in such a way? His touch was rough but somehow soft, tickling under mangled fingers. An unintelligible sound left her, not a moan, but a very failed attempt at speech.

“Would you let me educate you, Nora?”

“Wh-wha—“ she opened her eyes to see him leaning in, his mouth near her ear.

His voice was a rumbling purr, rough but somehow so smooth like barbed wire tearing into silk. “I want to fuck you, Nora. Let me show you everything that you have been missing.” The touch at her neck was gone, now he was just speaking and his voice was making her light headed. The smell of wood smoke surrounded her, encompassed her. “I will take such good care of you, Nora.”

“Ah… Uh…” she opened and closed her mouth, like a fish abandoned on land. “I…”

She was wet, she could feel the moisture in her panties. She had never been spoke to in such a way. Nate had never been so blunt with his speech. He had always let his voice trail off as he escorted her into bed, as he laid her down and moved on top of her.

Hancock’s voice was still a low growl in her ear, “Sleep on it. Let me know.”

“O…Oh… Okay.”

Nora retreated to the bedroom. There was very limited space at the truck stop, so when it came to dragging in a second bed for her ghoul companion, there was really only one option as to where it would be placed. They shared a room, their beds against opposite walls. Privacy wasn’t a huge issue. Hancock typically slept in just his pants, the rest of his clothes abandoned by his bed. Nora often stripped down to her shirt and panties while under her blankets. She would wad up her pants and push them to the foot of her bed so her clothes were warm when she went to get redressed.

She stared up at the ceiling for what felt like hours, while in reality it had only been a handful of minutes. Eventually, she found her fingers dipping beneath the blankets, slipping into her panties. She tentatively brushed her clit with the pad of one of her fingers. Nora was wet, more so than she expected. Keeping her eyes glued to the closed door, she dipped her fingers between her moist folds, prodding at the opening of her sex. Her eyes closed as she tried to determine what part of her body was more responsive to her hesitant touches. Her clit seemed the most sensitive, so she allowed her fingers to swipe along the bundle of nerves experimentally. A sigh left her and she lifted her hips – just as the door opened.

In a panic, Nora yanked her hand from her panties and quickly feigned sleep. Hancock typically stayed up quite late, drinking and getting high. She hadn’t expected him to be coming to bed so soon. Behind her eyelids she could see the warm glow of the lantern that Hancock carried. She heard the door close, and heard the lock secure into place. Hancock’s footfalls drew close to her bed. Nora found herself holding her breath. The lantern was lowered, she could see the light source shift. Suddenly, very suddenly, she felt pressure against her mons, felt him palm her sex through the bedding and her panties. Nora’s eyes shot open, her breath hitching in her throat as she stared up at Hancock. The ghoul was leaning down over her, grinning. “Do you want some help, Nora?” His palm pressed against her, rubbing slowly.

“I… Uh…”

There had been a time where Nora had been more than capable of articulating around the ghoul. Now, suddenly, she seemed incredibly incapable.

Hancock looked into her eyes as his hand slipped beneath the blanket. His mangled palm drifted over her thigh, slowly returning to her sex. Nora’s jaw went slack, and her eyes closed as his knuckle dragged over her labia through the moist material of her panties. A strained, ”Oh, yes” left her as her toes curled.

“You have to tell me that you want it, Nora. We aren’t going to half-ass this,” the blackness of his eyes glimmered in the warm lighting, looking bewitching, and devilish, and striking. He stroked her through her panties, nice and slow.

“What about after? What happens after?”

A soft smile formed across his features, “Why don’t we see how you feel in the morning?”

Nora recognized that he was trying to give her an out. If, after tonight, she didn’t want to continue along this path in their relationship then they wouldn’t. They would have tonight, and that would be the end of it – if that was what she wanted. Maybe she would enjoy their sexual escapades, maybe she would hate them and feel nothing but regret in the morning. Either way, she trusted Hancock. She trusted him with her life, her wellbeing – why wouldn’t she trust him with something a little more intimate?

In a moment of confidence she said, “Educate me then.” She shifted her hips into his fingers.

That smoldering heat was back in his eyes in an instant. It was all fire, and yearning. “Say you want me, Nora. Please.” His request was punctuated by his thumb pressing against her clit.

“I want you, Hancock. Please sh—“ in a flash the blanket was yanked from the bed, and her legs were draped over his slight shoulders. He lifted her body from the bed until she was reclined on her upper back and shoulders.

“Your safe word is Mentats.”

“Wha—“

His mouth encased her sex, panties and all. The suction he applied, even through her underwear was immense. His tongue prodded and stroked over the material, and Nora immediately found herself breathless and trembling. Nora was expecting sex, not for him to use his mouth on her. Nate’s mouth had never lingered south of her breasts, and even then the visits had been brief. The fact that Hancock’s mouth was lapping at her vagina was… it was something else. She had never imagined anyone’s mouth down there and now that there was… Damn. The suction made her ache deliciously as blood rushed to the surface of her skin. She felt sensitive and hot, and so damn wet.

Hancock pulled his mouth from her once her panties were thoroughly soaked with a combination of his saliva and her own fluids. He tugged them to the side, exposing her glistening lips and carefully trimmed downy curls. Hancock moaned, placing a wet kiss to the head of her clit, to her lips, and then to the quivering opening of her sex. Then his tongue was on her, lapping over the area nice and slow. His tongue was hot and velvety, dragging over her in one smooth stroke. Another moan vibrated against her skin.

“You’re delicious,” he rasped, his tongue dipping into her vagina only briefly. “So fucking delicious, Nora.”

His hands slipped over her rear, catching the waist of her panties with his fingers. He pulled them up over her thighs, forcing her legs to lift from his shoulders. He didn’t remove her panties all of the way. Instead, he left them on her calves. One of his hands fisted the material, and then her legs were being pushed back until her feet were above her head. The angle was embarrassing. She was so exposed to him, so open to his prying eyes – and she could watch him as he gazed at her sex.

“And you’re beautiful. Fuck…” his eyes flicked to hers, and then she saw his tongue. Hancock licked her deliberately slow as he looked into her eyes. She whimpered as the end of his tongue flicked against her clit. Slowly, very slowly, he removed his hat and dropped it near the bed. There was a moment of calm as he peered down into her eyes, and she gazed up into his. Then he lurched forward. His mouth enclosed her labia and her clitoris, and with an obscene slurp, his mouth created an air tight vacuum. His tongue was relentless, flicking over the taut bundle of nerves so quickly she cried out. Nora felt a gush of pleasure leave her sex, felt it slink up along his mouth, felt it slide along the crevice of her ass. Nora’s eyes rolled back in her head as he slid his two fingers into her opening. The questing digits curled slowly, pumping in and out of her to counteract the near frantic movement of his tongue. The coil in her abdomen was wound painfully tight, leaving her as a pulsating, needy mess.

“Haa-Hancock!” she whimpered, reaching to touch the cup the back of his head. She was already so damn close to cumming that it was painful. Just a moment longer, just a little more. “Oh, Hancock, please.” Her voice was airy and ragged, a weak sound of yearning.

A low growl tore through Hancock that reverberated throughout her entire body. His eyes bore into hers meaningfully before he lifted his mouth from her sex with a moist pop. Her pussy quivered around his fingers and she whined loudly.

“No touching,” he growled, maintaining eye contact as he kissed her sex. “And call me John.”

“John,” she whispered, and then pointedly reached behind her head, grabbing the bars that took place of her headboard. “Please, John. I was so close.”

Hancock smiled a glistening smile. He practically purred as he laved her with his tongue, lapping slow and lazy strokes. Nora wiggled, she rocked on her shoulder blades, briefly impaling herself on his still fingers, pushing herself closer to his mouth. He chuckled, a deep dark sound, and then he returned to her. His mouth was focused strictly on her clitoris, pinching her between his barely-there lips, and then his tongue went back to work, back to the frantic, mind numbing pace.

“Yes…” she cooed, grasping the bars with a white knuckle grip.

When he gave a forceful suck, bringing her engorged clit into his mouth, she shrieked, another curling motion of his fingers and she came undone. The entirety of her body began to tingle as her pussy clenched almost painfully. Hancock didn't stop. His mouth remained latched to her body, sucking and tonguing her with renewed determination.

The flicking motion of Hancock’s tongue continued, and the suction created by his mouth seemed to increase ten-fold. He wasn’t stopping. She came, she felt sensitive and over stimulated, but he wasn’t stopping. His tongue suddenly made rapid swirling motions around her clit, circling and lapping at the bundle of nerves. Her inverted legs were starting to tingle, falling asleep in the midst of their escapades. Nora whined, she yelped, she cried out – all of which were inarticulate noises that just stoked Hancock’s efforts.

“Ha-!” She gasped, another finger dipping into her opening. “Y-you have to sto-“ She was cut off as she gasped loudly. His teeth grazed her skin, introducing a barely-there pain in the midst of her mind boggling pleasure. “John, please!” He grazed his teeth against her again, then clamped his lips against her distended clit. Nora’s hand tore away from the metal bars, she reached for his head, trying to push him away, but he caught her. Her hand was pinned to the bed by her wrist. He snarled and the sound, so animalistic and feral, made her tumble over the edge yet again. He tore his mouth from her overstimulated sex. Nora went boneless, her knees sinking down towards his shoulders as she peered up at him blearily. He was gazing at her vulva, his fingers still buried deep inside of her as her walls clenched and pulsed.

Her labia were red, puffy and slick with a mixture of saliva and her own pleasure. Her clitoris was swollen and over sensitive, jutting out from beneath the narrow hood. When his fingers finally slid out of her vagina he was back to mouthing her vulva. He used his tongue to collect her juices with long, luxurious swipes of his tongue. The three fingers that had been inside of her were suddenly at her mouth, and he watched her expectantly. Slowly, she parted her lips and one of his fingers slid over her tongue. The texture of his skin was odd, she could feel divots and seams of muscle, and then she tasted herself. Slightly sweet, barely a taste at all. Hancock coaxed her into suckling each of his fingers clean as he licked, and sucked her quivering sex.

When she was finished he placed a wet kiss against her pussy, and then her legs were finally lowered back to the bed, allowing the blood to rush back to her strained limbs. Before she could catch her breath Hancock’s barely-there lips were upon hers, his tongue in her mouth before she could even process what was happening. He tasted like her pleasure. As his tongue swirled and thrust against hers he took one of her hands into his, and slowly guided her to palm his groin.

She whimpered.

He was hard, solid like rock.

Nora ran her palm over his girth through his pants. Her pleasure addled brain wondered what it would be like to have him on her tongue. She wanted to lick and suckle him much like he had done to her. She rubbed him with her fingers nice and slow as he palmed her breast through her shirt.

“Get on your knees, Nora,” Hancock ordered, his voice a jagged growl against her lips. Nora obeyed, finding that she rather liked him in control and ordering her around. Slowly, she rolled to her stomach, and then lifted herself onto her hands and knees. There was a whisper of clothing, the clank of boots hitting the ground. When she turned her head to look back at him she was spanked. Nora yelped in surprise, and then she whimpered. The sting of the strike was centralized just above her sex, and though it hadn’t been a particularly hard swat, the warm heat pulsed very close to her sensitive mound. She rubbed her thighs together, feeling the silken warmth of her pleasure smear against her skin.

Hancock’s hand slipped over the length of her spine, caressing nice and slow until his fingers were in her hair. He tugged until her head was bent back towards him, his erection pressed firmly against her ass.

“Are you ready, Sweetheart?” Hancock growled, rocking his hips slowly.

“I wanna touch you,” she confessed, ignoring his question. “Let me—“

“Ssh,” He purred, he bent low over her body, placing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Tonight is about your pleasure.”

“But I’ve already… I…” she swallowed. “Isn’t twice enough?”

Hancock released a rumbling laugh, deep and sultry and masculine as his tongue laved the side of her throat. “Twice is not nearly enough, Nora. You are going to be a mess when I am done with you. You won’t know if you want me to stop, or if you want me to give you more.”

Without any sort of warning, Hancock drew his hips back and then he thrust them forward, burying himself to the base. Nora screamed, not because of the pain but it did hurt a little. She didn’t scream because she was surprised, but she was quite surprised. She screamed because he was stretching her, filling her to capacity, and it felt so. Fucking. Good. She angled her pelvis back, ground her ass into his hips. She practically purred in delight.

“You’re so tight, Nora. Fuck.”

“John, you feel so good.”

They spoke in unison, voices rushed and ragged and needy. Nora loved the angle at which he penetrated her. She loved how animalistic the position was. The angle was completely unfamiliar to Nora, as her and Nate had always stuck with traditional missionary. This was something else, though. In this position she had a little bit more control of her own body and its movements. As Hancock gripped her hips and began to thrust, she was able to pump her body back to meet him. She rocked back on her knees, and when her skin slapped into his she whined. Little pin pricks of heat and pain stung the back of her thighs.

The pace was fast and rough. Hancock’s hands gripped her hips, yanking her back into his thrusts even as she shoved herself backwards into him. Nora’s pussy clenched around him, and she could feel the columns of muscle, the mottled textures on his dick. Nora’s mouth watered; she wanted to lick her pleasure from his cock. She wanted to experience all of the debauched things her friends had whispered about. She wanted heat, and pleasure, and she wanted doses of pain.

Nora suddenly wanted John to spank her again. Nora wanted John to pull her hair.

“S-aaah,” she whimpered. “Jo-John, spank me. Please.” Her face was flush with pleasure and embarrassment. What would Nate think?

Nora fully expected John to laugh, but instead he acquiesced to her request. His palm rubbed over her right ass cheek, nice and slow and soothing, and then he spanked her. It was a firm swat, delivered by a slightly cupped hand. The sound was loud and deafening, but the sting of pain was delicious.

“More. John, please. More.”

Hancock chuckled, though it wasn’t a mocking sound. He continued to thrust. “You like it when I spank you, Nora?”

“Yes,” she murmured, only feeling slightly ashamed as she shoved herself back against him, arching her back. She clutched her inner walls around him, gripping at his length greedily. “Please, John.”

“Gladly, Sweetheart.”

He spanked her while he fucked her. Every third or fourth thrust was accompanied by a firm smack to her ass. By the time both of her butt cheeks were hot and enflamed she was nearly boneless, pressing her face into her pillow, letting Hancock have full control of the pace he used. Nora’s walls were pulsating and quivering, and she was so damn close to cumming that she could cry. Hancock smoothed his palms over her ass, all gentle and slow.

“John…” He answered her unasked request with another smack. This time, he didn’t cup his hand. He used the flat of his palm, and spanked her – hard. The sound was like the crack of a whip, and the pain had her tumbling over the edge. She came, her ass in the air and her face in the mattress. She moaned, she whined and she writhed. John came only moments later, his cock embedded to the hilt. She felt him cum, felt him pulsate inside of her.

“Oh, yes,” she cooed into the pillow. “Yes!”

Hancock slipped out of her quickly, leaving her stretched but empty. He pushed Nora from her knees and onto her back – and it was only then that she got to see him. He was naked, and he looked so striking.

In another time, Nora would have sworn that she was looking at a burn victim. His skin was destroyed, necrotic and mangled. She could see the seams of muscle, the fibers that constructed the basic muscle groupings. He was scarred, and he was mottled, but with his lazy boyish grin, the stunning amount of confidence, and the burning heat in his eyes made him look incredibly dashing – and, somehow, incredibly sexy.

“Let me touch you,” she whispered, reaching out for him. Hancock caught her hand, and placed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“Not yet, baby,” he said, his voice soft and tender though his eyes flickered wickedly. “I’m going to have my way with you.” He leaned down and kissed her, soft and slow. “I’m still so hard for you, Nora.”

“John, I’ve never… You made me…” She trailed off, embarrassed.

“What is it, Doll?”

“I’ve never…” she swallowed. “I’ve never climaxed so many times in such a short amount of time. I…”

“We aren’t finished yet,” he kissed her again, then leaned down over the edge of the bed. The sash that he typically had wrapped around his waist was in his hand, and he slowly brought it up to her eyes.

“Wh-What?”

The sash was tied into place and his scent overwhelmed her. Firewood and smoke, and sweetness assaulted her senses. She breathed in deep, filling her lungs with his scent. He gently took her hands into his, pushing them back up against the bed frame. There was a clicking, a rattling, and then her wrists were wrapped in cold metal. Nora yanked at her arms, finding that she had been handcuffed to the bed.

“John, no…”

“Ssh, Nora,” his voice was near her ear. He pressed a kiss to her lips.

“I feel so helpless. Please, John, I don’t like it…”

Another kiss, deep and sweet. “You said so yourself that you trusted me with your life. Let’s try this just once, Sweetheart. If you don’t like it, then we never have to do it again.”

Nora took a breath. It was dark behind the makeshift blindfold, she couldn’t see anything. Her wrists were cuffed above her head, and she was feeling helpless and vulnerable and she hated that… But she trusted him. She trusted him completely.

“Can we leave my feet untied? Please?”

“Of course, Doll.” Another kiss, and she nearly flinched at the unexpected contact. “Remember,” he purred. “Mentats.”

There was an expanse of time where there was absolutely nothing. There was no sound, no touch. All she could do was breathe, and anticipate his actions. Minutes ticked by and she began to squirm, tugging at her wrists…

And then his voice whispered into her ear, ragged but sultry, ”I’ve wanted you since I saw you, Nora,” And then his voice was at her other ear, still just a whisper. ”I’ve wanted to fuck you since you walked into Goodneighbor.”

Nora trembled. Something cold, like metal or steel, pressed against her collar bone, gently dragging against her skin. Nora gasped, feeling the blade’s sharp edge – and her core pulsed. It clenched at nothing, and her eyes bulged behind the blindfold. It was a knife, it was his knife. The flat edge of the blade dipped down beneath her shirt, and then the material tore away like paper. There was a beat of silence, and then the knife was back, straining the material between the cups of her bra.

“No--!”

There was a low chuckle, right next to her ear.

“You won’t be needing that anymore.”

Before she could scold him for destroying her one halfway decent bra, his hot mouth engulfed one of her nipples. Nora’s words tumbled into a needy whine as his tongue circled the erect flesh. Nora’s back arched, pressing her breast into his mouth, he was suckling, using teeth and tongue – and then he was gone. She flopped back onto the mattress, pulsating and shivering.

Then his fingers caressed her still enflamed sex, his fingers dipping into a mixture of their fluids. He pushed the digits up and over her clit, rubbing the pad of his thumb in a slow stroking motion, again and again until her body began to tense. And then he was gone again.

“John, you can’t—“

”I can do whatever I please, Nora,” he growled next to her ear. Nora flinched, having anticipated his voice originating near the foot of the bed as opposed to right beside her. His fingers danced along her ribs. "And if I want to tease you until you are begging, then I can do just that. I want to bring you to the brink of orgasm again, and again, until you can barely stand it. I will wait until you are delirious, and then I will fuck you senseless.”

Nora’s toes curled and she tilted her head back into the pillows, letting his voice wash over her. A distant part of her wondered if she could cum just by listening to the sound of his voice. His voice was pleasant on the best of days, but after their bed play it was deep and husky and she could hear his need, his yearning. She didn’t expect to enjoy the bit of bondage, she didn’t expect to want to try it on him, either. After dwelling on his lovely voice, she wondered what he would be like stretched on the bed, tied up and begging for her.

Hancock’s hands palmed her breasts, his breath at her ear. When he retreated the bed was shifted, pushing the frame away from the wall so he could have better access to the other side of her body, so he could come at her from all angles.

“That’s better,” he murmured from somewhere above her.

His fingers ghosted a trail from her breasts to her navel only to reappear at her opening. He slipped two fingers inside of her, curling the digits methodically, beckoning her climax to the surface. Nora helplessly rolled her hips. She was already quite close to cumming as her body had already been over stimulated… But then he was gone again, kissing her neck, sucking at her skin.

“Oh, Hancock,” she breathed, tugging at her wrists. “Please…”

A harsh bite was delivered to her neck, causing her to gasp.

”I thought I told you to call me John,” He rasped. His tongue traced the shell of her ear, and then he nibbled at the lobe.

“John,” she echoed needily, just before his mouth returned to her breasts. He suckled as if he was trying to feed from her body. She wanted to reach down and cup the back of his head, hold him close – and she wanted to watch. Nora so desperately wanted to watch him enjoy her body. He would watch her with those black eyes of his, they would shimmer in the lamp light and he would look like the devil, and she would give herself to him so readily.

When his mouth and hands left her breasts she whimpered and then gasped as his hand clasped around her throat.

”Can I cum on you, Nora? Can I cover you with my seed? Can I rub myself into your beautiful skin?”

Her body pulsed, her walls clenched on nothing and she inhaled deeply. Why did she want something so… dirty? Why did she want to be covered in him? Nora wanted to know if she had always been so perverse. Had anyone known that she even thought of having a man ejaculate on her she would have been a social pariah.

“Yes.” She trembled. “Yes, anything.”

"Anything?"

Nora was breathless as she felt his erection against the side of her breast. "Anything."

There was a rumbling growl of a sound as Hancock’s fingers dipped down over her mons. They slipped over her clitoris, dipping between her labia before entering her to the knuckle. The mattress dipped and shifted, and then there was a rhythmic rocking. Nora imagined him pumping his fist over his cock, looking her right in the eye as he jerked himself off. Nora clenched around his fingers greedily. Maybe he would cum on her breasts, maybe her stomach or her thighs or—his hands withdrew from her sex and she whined loudly.

“John,” she moaned “Plea-“ she gasped as he groaned loudly. She felt his ejaculate spatter over her breasts and her stomach. She felt his pleasure on her skin, leaving warm moist trails as it slid along the contours of her body. The sensation alone had her hips lifting off of the bed, her jaw nearly coming unhinged. Hancock’s hands began to rub at her breasts, slow and purposeful.

“You like that?” he growled into her ear, “You’re covered in me, sweetheart.”

She sighed in agreement, lifting her body to press into his roaming hands.

“Do you see everything that you been missing? You could have enjoyed all of this, Nora – and it’s nothing. This has been,” he chuckled. “This has been quite tame.” His fingers rolled her nipples. Nora’s body, already so turned to pleasure, writhed and lifted into his hands. When he was finished rubbing his seed into her skin, his fingers smoothed over her sex, swirling around her clit.

“John,” she moaned.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was a pleased purr.

“I want you so bad,” she murmured. “Please.”

Hancock moaned into her ear, low and ragged. “You’re so sexy when you beg for me.” He shifted on the bed, the mattress shaking and moving under him as he got situated. His hands slid up along her thighs. “Here I come, doll…”

His rough hands wrapped her legs around his small waist, his palms moving smoothly over her skin. She felt his erection brush against her opening and Nora was trembling all over again, arching and wiggling her hips. Nora expected Hancock to pound into her vagina and fuck her until she couldn’t walk straight, but when Hancock slipped inside of her it was nice and slow, a gentle roll of his hips. Hancock’s body slowly stretched on top of hers, hands sliding up along her ribs and palming her breasts. Then his hand cupped her neck before he was bracing himself above her. Hancock’s thrusts were deep and slow. It wasn’t the harsh fucking that she wanted, but the tenderness he exhibited made tears gather in her eyes. Nora sighed softly, thrusting her hips to meet his slow and steady. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to look into his eyes…

And as if he had read her mind, the sash was tugged from her face. Their eyes immediately met. Nora’s breath caught in her throat. She knew that look – she had seen it every day for several years. Hancock was looking at her like she was his world. This wasn’t just sex. Hancock was loving her, and she so desperately wanted to hold him as he did.

“John, let me hold you.” She tugged at her wrists, the chain rattling against the bed frame. Hancock reached above her, tugging at one of the cuffs. There was a click and one of the cuffs fell from her wrist. In a flash she had her arms around him, the cuffs dangling from her left wrist as she clutched at his back. She pulled him close for a kiss. Hancock moaned into her mouth, his pace faltering just slightly.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, Nora,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “I’ve wanted you so bad.” He thrust into her once more and then stilled as he placed all of his focus on kissing her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, curling around hers and thrusting slowly. Nora cupped the back of his head, kissing him until her lungs burned for air. She tilted her head back, gasping.

“You’ve wanted me?”

“More than anything,” he rasped. “I wasn’t going to say anything but,” he spoke softly, still buried deep inside of her. “If this continues after tonight, I’m not letting you go, Nora. I can’t.”

“And tonight?”

“If you want tonight - just tonight,” he began to rock his hips again, picking that slow rhythm he had started with. “Then I guess I will have to make the most of my time.”

It was her decision again. He was letting her decide on what they were doing with their relationship. It was her decision for them to be together tonight, and he was leaving it up to her on where they would be going with their relationship after. Hancock pushed his feelings to the side and left it up to her. Nora’s legs tightened around his hips. She brought him in close and kissed him. There were no more words exchanged, just heavy breathing and ragged moaning. Nora climaxed looking into his eyes, their forehead nearly touching as they exchanged heavy gasps of air. Hancock came, buried to the hilt inside of her, kissing her like she was a lifeline.

When they were finished, gasping and sated, they lay in bed together. Nora was curled into his side, tracing his fingers over a particularly nasty scar on Hancock’s abdomen. Her head was on his chest, and she was warm and comfortable.

“So?” he murmured quietly.

“It was incredible,” she murmured, blushing slightly. “I didn’t think that I would ever enjoy it nearly as much as I did.”

There was a low chuckle, his fingers dipping into the ends of her hair.

“Well, I aim to please.” He murmured, placing a kiss to the top of her head. He suddenly sighed, and then began to sit up. Nora gripped his body, keeping him in bed.

“John, if you think you are going to rob me of post coital cuddling then you’re out of your mind.”

“Baby,” he said, smiling softly. “I’m about to fall asleep.”

Nora leaned over the bed, reaching for the lantern that was still burning. She snuffed the light, then returned to his side, pulling the blanket over the both of them.

“Then fall asleep.”

“Nora…”

She tilted her head back, kissing his jaw. “John, close your eyes.” Eventually, his body relaxed into the bed, his arm wrapping around her shoulders in an warm embrace. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Doll…”

Nora woke before Hancock, as she usually did. She was still curled against him, his arm wrapped around her. For several minutes she simply rested beside him, warm and comfortable. She mulled over the night before, thinking over what he had said. If they continued with whatever it was that they had started, then he wouldn't let her go. Slowly, her eyes drifted up to his face. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful and comfortable. Nora watched him for a moment. She trusted this man, in every way that there was to be trusted and she loved him; she would readily give her life for his. Nora could very easily see herself with him, could see herself loving him far more than she already did.

But only on one condition…

Nora was quick about securing him to the bed. She cuffed his hands to the bed frame just as he had done with her the night before, using the same handcuffs that he did. His ankles were secured with nylon rope, keeping his legs straight and spread. She used the remains of her shredded t-shirt as the blindfold, carefully wrapping the material over his closed eyes. By the time she was finished she was giddy with anticipation, and she was wet. The idea of being in control was tantalizing.

Nora tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned down low. Her mouth hovered over his groin. Shooting a glance towards his obscured face, she exhaled softly, brushing her lips over the head of his penis. His flaccid member twitched to life, instantly growing firm and erect. Nora watched, mesmerized as his organ hardened, all with a gentle caress of her lips. Slowly, hesitantly, she caressed the end of his penis with her tongue, and when he shifted his hips up in just the slightest of movement, she wrapped her lips around him and suckled.

A moan tore through Hancock’s throat and his whole body jerked, the cuffs clanked, the ropes strained audibly. Nora grinned, swirling her tongue around his cock before she leaned back, licking her lips.

“Good morning.”

“N-Nora?”

“You said that if we did anything past last night that you wouldn’t let me go,” she murmured, then grazed her teeth against his hip. Her hair brushed over his stomach, his erection, his thighs. “But there is something that you should keep in mind, John,” she moved, dragging her hair along his skin, he exhaled his breathing erratic. “I don’t share. At all.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” His voice was harsh with sleep but it was also low and husky. Nora traced her tongue along the column of engorged muscle. His legs strained against his bonds.

“I’m saying,” she dragged her teeth under the head of his penis, experimenting with her new found power. “That I will be yours, if you will be mine.”

“Yes,” he said immediately, his hips lifting from the bed as he tugged at his wrists. “C’mere, baby. Let me kiss you.”

Nora straddled him, her body caging him as she leaned down and pressed her lips to his mouth. Hancock lifted his head from the bed, trying to take control of the kiss – and Nora let him. His tongue curled around hers, kissing her slowly. Nora lowered her hips until she could rub herself against him. She was already slick and ready, so she pressed herself against him, grinding her pussy over his girth. When John released a harsh, ragged moan against her lips, Nora broke the kiss, as well as the contact their lower bodies shared.

“You little minx,” he purred, allowing himself to relax back into the bed.

“I’m experimenting,” she chuckled. “I’ve never been on top before.”

The cuffs clanked against the bed frame. “Let me go and I can teach you.”

“I rather like you tied up in my bed, John,” she said, completely unable to contain the smile that nearly split her face. Nora lowered herself against him, her sex grinding against his penis as she sighed softly into his ear. Just as Hancock thrust upwards against her, she was off of the bed, circling him slowly. The cement floor left her footfalls soundless. She felt like a predator. She felt in control and she felt sexy.

“Baby, c’mere. Ride me.”

Nora sighed, closing her eyes. That sounded delicious. She suddenly leaned down and nipped at his neck, then laved the space with her tongue to soothe the sting. Hancock tipped his head away from her, giving her more access. Nora kissed at his skin, suckled and nipped and licked… and then she stepped back. Dammit, she wanted to fuck him. She wanted to fuck him so bad. She would, but not yet. Not quite yet. Nora got back onto the bed, straddling his stomach. Her fingers dipped down to her vagina. She thumbed her clit, and slipped to fingers inside of herself. Nora rocked her hips so he could feel the movement of her body. She swallowed back any nervousness that she felt, licking her lips.

“A-are you… Fuck, Nora, are you –“

“I am…”

“Well shit, Sweetheart, can I at least watch?”

Nora chuckled, “No, I don’t think so.”

Nora stopped just before she came, her toes curling and her vagina practically dripping her pleasure onto his stomach. Her eyes flickered to his mouth and she reached out, fingers glistening as she traced his lower lip. Hancock’s tongue shot out, finding her finger, curling and lapping at the digit. Nora closed her eyes, she wanted his mouth back at her sex. She wanted his tongue on her clit and even though she had the option to sit on his face, she didn’t quite have the guts for that. Not yet.

She did, however, have the nerve to slip back, to move her knees between his legs.

“I want to suck on you,” she murmured.

“You don’t even have to ask m—“ His voice cut off abruptly when she wrapped her lips around the head of his penis and sucked, her tongue swirling around him. She bobbed her head slowly, taking more of him into her mouth. He brushed the back of her throat, and the sound that came from his throat made her shiver. “C’mon, Nora, you can take it. A little deeper, honey.”

Nora tried, a little deeper and her gag reflex had her yanking back as her muscles in her throat worked uncomfortably.

“Relax your throat,” Hancock said, voice ragged.

She licked her lips, before she had him back in her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down, sucking as she worked him back towards her throat. His hips lifted off of the bed, rocking upwards as she bobbed down. Nora was able to relax her throat, and Hancock moaned, his hips thrusting upwards sharply.

“Nora,” he rumbled, the handcuffs clanking loudly. “I don’t know if you- Nora, no… Nora.” His voice was weak as she pulled her mouth from him completely. She exhaled, her breath fanning over his wet skin before she sat up. “Fuck, Nora."

Nora chuckled, licking her lips. She moved to straddle him. Once he was inside of her she sank to the base. She murmured his name, her eyes closed tight. He felt so big, and he was in her so deep that she could feel him at her cervix. She began to rock slowly, testing the motion of her hips. She lifted herself with her knees, then slowly sank back against him, her head rolling back.

“Let me see you, Nora,” he murmured. “Take the blindfold off.”

Still impaled on his length, Nora leaned forward, pressing her breasts to his chest as she lowered her mouth to his ear.

“No.”

The sound that he released sounded similar to that of a rabid dog. His arms strained against the handcuffs. She sat up, resuming her hesitant rhythm, rocking slowly for several minutes. When Hancock’s breath went ragged, when his hips snapped up into hers she lifted herself off of him. As much as she liked being in control, as much as she liked seeing him struggle to touch her, she liked him being in control more. She would drag this out a little longer, though. She would deny him for as long as she could.

“Nora, please…” That voice, usually so gravely and firm, was reduced to a rasping yearning sound. She mounted him again, but this time she barely took the tip of him inside of her, teasing him.

“Tell me you want me.”

“Nora…”

“Tell me, John.”

His arms strained against the cuffs again. Just as Nora thought that he was going to pull one of his arms out of its socket, one of the cuffs broke. The locking mechanism snapped open, and he was on her in a flash. He yanked the shirt from his eyes, and then his hands were at her waist, yanking her down on his cock. Nora nearly screamed. Hancock sat up, holding her tightly to him as he thrust upwards against her. Nora whimpered, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her lips found his mouth and she kissed him as she gyrated her hips down against his. Hancock groaned, thrusting into her urgently. He broke the kiss to look up into her eyes, and the intensity in his gaze was staggering.

“Just like this, Nora,” he growled, moving her into his hips as he thrust upwards. “Ride me,” he murmured. Nora bounced on top of his cock, riding him just as she was told. Hancock fell back onto the mattress, hands still gripping her hips as Nora moved in a frantic rhythm. When he pressed his thumb against her clit she saw stars, her eyes wide as she hit her climax so abruptly. Her pace faltered and she went completely still as she clenched around him, squeezing and gripping and pulsating. He came shortly after, pulling her flush against him as he emptied himself inside of her.

When they were finished, after Nora untied his legs as they were resting in the bed, he kissed her lips, grinning dazedly.

“You’re incredible,” he said quietly.

Nora smiled, “I have a good teacher.”

#Fallout 4 #Fallout Fanfiction #Ghoul x Human #Hancock x Female Sole Survivor #ghoul boyfriend #MDNI #Fallout Kink Meme Fill #Fallout 4 Hancock #teratophila #fallout #fallout ghoul

[juszar2]

The possible toilet could likely inform all of my dreams, goals and more to my enemies... It is a sad statement, but I understand this and know that I need a man, a real one. With some religion, some dignity and courage. Honesty is major and the foundation for all things. Schemer swindler is repulsive.... And no liabilities around either.

Funny how I sign for myself as a full adult. This stalker homosexual is about asking for assistance to get a place to urinate at 45 to try and portray anything close to what I am...and has court dates for criminal cases... Yet has no problem insulting and pursuing me and my life.... From the closet it came out of, using a weakest toilet ever. I don't know why they always try and compete or emulate aspects of me, or me entirely, or try and invade and get to a weak toilet paper to actually come into my life. It's like a 13 year old with a foul mouth made more vile and disgusting just because of.... Everything else it is. And it is grotesque living my life knowing that it is following me trying to shadow my life. Interested in Every aspect of my life and wanting others to know that it is trailing and attempting to shadow... It is fascinating. It wants others to know and expresses that it can simp a toilet paper connected to me, as if that reduces me. What's true is it knows what I am and if it can be connected, it will be relevant and thought to be something. So, use the tp. But it's not the tp that makes me great... At all. And in fact Yes, I concede that it may be a toilet paper, and that I am actually the decent one in this equation and it is not my equal nor does it make me better... In fact it is me that kept its lowliness under wraps, so essentially, yes if any of this true, you found out it is trash. I didn't even know he could be this reduced beneath some really poor other options... I did not know. No underwear for life might equal no dignity and actually no honesty, no privacy, no courage, no respect, no safety. I was aware that he was not my equal as far as effort in life, but I am compassionate and preserve dignity so I thought I could help with that... I am an adult with auto insurance and insurance of all kinds in my own name and assets and I try to stand on my own... I thought I could be the half that assists with that because personhood was solid.... but to find very possibly there is no personhood that is laudable at all. I never knew to correlate lack of cleanliness with lack of spiritual cleanliness and an open door for the rot and what has been documented. I never knew that he'd tie his name and personhood to the most treacherous and lowly effort one could imagine. To procreate with something like that... The details which at some point may very likely be made known, every one is a horror that I cannot explain. I sacrificed my whole life as a woman with so much daily opportunity that I turned down... and needed a man who had at the very least personhood.... At the very least. He could be proud of what I produced and my entire being/life effort. Instead wrong side of the tracks and acting like it, no dignity let it be known what he is not, almost preteen girl like statements and phrases, now general menacing profanity when even speaking about television. I like just regular profanity, honorable aggrieved profanity is my preference but this tone of lowly is disgust.. Used to look masculine now I am just baffled as to what that is. Hypocritical to a sadistic degree if any of this is true. Speaking of who is a scumbag... You are the detriment of your family and you talk about a man who without approval worked and claimed overtime??? THAT is a Scumbag??? No a parasitic no self control no dignity closet lowly who boasts of my accomplishments, and tells even my dreams and goals to my enemies as they use you to harm me would be the rot. Especially if you are Not at all the reason for successful awesome people.... You would be the detriment? And call that man a scumbag... You'd tell me that if you had been used as a** wipe by my homosexual stalker you would be a scumbag... Admit that you understand that and yet..... Are you? The sickness is an awful lot and I ask God that I wake up tomorrow having never had anything of him and had declined his requests to be with him. I ask God every day for my life back and never had him in it and I know it will not happen and it is more tragic than I can relay.

[xiaosmoon]

dad/pregnancy headcanons

because i love dilfs <3

feat. childe & albedo

warnings: pregnancy

(afab reader)

when you first told childe you were pregnant, you were convinced he was going to explode from joy. he didn't believe you when you first told him

"there's really a baby in there?"

"yes, childe."

"...really?"

que death stare

he would be beyond helpful during your pregnancy. need to grab something? just stay put and he'll bring it to you. craving mac & cheese with pickles at the ass crack of dawn? he's already in the kitchen. he really just wants you to be as comfortable as you can be. he knows how to deal with your mood swings quite well (he grew up with quite a few siblings) and you always feel bad afterward but childe assures you that it's no big deal. as helpful as your loving husband is, you do get quite bored just sitting down all day and doing nothing. (this man wouldn't even let you cook for the first 3 months of your pregnancy. he claimed your belly getting too close to the stove would cook the baby.) so you convince him to accompany you on evening walks around your neighborhood. he was cautious at first of course. he's a fatui harbinger and anyone finding out about his pregnant wife would be bad news. but he gives in with a little convincing. overall, your pregnancy was quite the breeze.

childe would be the best dad. he's always wanted a big loving family and now his dream is slowly becoming a reality. the first time he held his baby was the best day of his life. the way his son wrapped his little delicate hand around childe's finger was the day he knew that he had a new person to care for. to love, cherish, and support. with all of the overwhelming love for his son, the dangers and fear lurked at the back of his mind. he was a fatui harbinger. it's funny how hands that have killed and slaughtered so much, are now holding something as precious and innocent as a new life. protecting you and his beloved son was now his number one priority.

he would hold his child over his shoulders all the time. he claims "the view is better when you can see everything!"

secretly spoiling the kid. i mean, come on. his pockets run very deep. who would he spend it on if not his own child?

"y/n, when can we have more babies? i mean look at this cutie! we do make cute kids don't you think?"

"you know, making babies is the fun part and i wouldn't mind-" oh look, a flying pillow heading straight for childe

once your son is older, childe will teach him combat. enough for him to protect himself

you and childe both agree that not telling your son about childe's real job is for the best. well at least until he's a bit older.

childe would make the sweetest, most fun, and caring dad <3

when you found out you were pregnant, you thought it was impossible. albedo had specifically told you that he couldn't procreate, so what was happening? you told albedo and he was just as confused as you. a week after being okay with it, you were both very happy. albedo called your unborn childe a miracle baby. for the first few months of your pregnancy, he would always rub your tummy. you could be cuddling on the couch and he would mindlessly be massaging and rubbing your baby bump gently. at night when he was sure you were asleep, he would talk to your stomach and plant gentle kisses on your exposed skin. "i love you very much. you're just going to be the cutest little thing, arent you? klee can't wait to play with you." you were sure your heart had exploded. but unlike childe, albedo wouldn't be the best with your mood swings. he would try his best to understand them, but it's just too much for the poor lad. you of course would apologize for your bursts of emotions but he assures you with a bunch of kisses that it's alright and you should just worry about your health. after that, albedo would busy himself with books, trying to understand as much as he could about pregnancy.

"hey y/n, did you know that babies cry in the womb?"

"albedo what the fuck."

sweet boy would do the absolute most for you during all of your trimesters.

albedo was in absolute awe when he first held your baby in his arms. wow, we really created this little little life, he would think. albedo was determined to find the meaning of life, it was surreal that he had helped create one. he kissed his baby gently on the forehead as they slept. they had his blonde hair, but your nose. he very much loved that. albedo doesn't know the first thing about being a father, but for his little baby, he would try.

albedo would a better father than he thought he would

you, of course, had no doubt

albedo would always listen to his child's stories and show them cool (and very safe) experiments in his lab

klee loved to spend time with your baby. she claims that she's practically gained a new sibling that she can play with!

albedo would listen to all of the babbles and endless nothingness of your baby like it was the most interesting thing in the world

he would also take notes of your baby. for research purposes he claims (wouldn't be albedo without some science)

once your child is old enough, he will allow them to come help in the lab with very minor tasks

while albedo is learning to be a father on the journey, he undoubtedly is doing a very well job

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #it's 3 am goodnight

[im-whatchamccallit]

My Baby//Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Very suggestive but mainly fluff

Warnings: Again, just very suggestive but nothing serious

Wonrd Count: 1.2k (The shortest thing I’ve written recently lol)

(A/N: Idk why I wrote this but I’m posting it anyways lmao)

Your lips formed a pout as you struggled to adjust the pillow beneath your shirt, stretching the cotton material past its limit as you folded the cushion to stay in place, gasping excitedly with your arms sprawled to marvel at your masterpiece.

You were afraid to admit that you’ve been feeling a bit hormonal recently, so much so that you could only dream and fantasize about lying in bed with your boyfriend with both your hands cradling your pregnant belly, months passing by before you can finally hold the creation you made together, spending every second arguing about who it looked more like. You just hoped they had his hair.

A content sigh left your lips as your hand fondled your fake stomach, no sign of life in the pillow but you still looked at it in your bedroom’s mirror as if it was the baby you always wanted. You felt your eyes begin to water, vision going blurry while you averted your gaze from the plush “fetus” in hopes it’ll clear the fictional scenarios you formed in your head.

“Damn hormones,” You sniffled, shutting your eyes and hoping to regain your composure and get back to your normal mindset before Chan got home but, once you calmed yourself down and peered back up, your eyes landed on the pair of said man’s through the mirror, a loud gasp leaving you as you hurriedly removed the pillow from your top and threw it back to your bed, face hot with embarrassment as he looked at you with amusement.

“Y-you’re finished practice already? That was fast.” You awkwardly stammered, trying to keep eye contact but wanting to hide now that he saw you in what you’d describe as your least graceful moment.

“We actually focused on recording today, since Jisung made a new verse and wanted to see who’s voice fit better with it but- uhm-“ He pointed between you and the pillow, eyebrow cocked with a smirk on his lips as he approached you.

“What were you just doing?”

You wanted to die at that moment. How were you supposed to explain you were teetering between a sexually feral beast one day to a depressed baby wanting… well, baby, the next?

A baby. That was the only way to describe yourself. You were angry about everything while crying over nothing, similar to a fussy infant that just needed a nap. You really felt pathetic, and the thought of admitting it to him made you feel even more pitiful. He’d just make fun of you like he is now, and you’d go back to watching baby and puppy videos on your phone to feed your maternal desires for just a moment in the everlasting day. Why was this happening to you? What the hell was wrong with you?

“Hey, don’t cry. Look at me.” Chan cooed, cupping your face until your eyes were fixated on his concerned ones, both of you ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness between your cheek and his palm from your tears.

“I don’t know why I’m crying. And I’m just constantly thinking about babies, and sex, but mostly babies, and every time I think about either, I just want to cry more.” Your voice cracked slightly as you continued to sob, mainly because his same playful smile returned.

“Stop laughing at me!” You protested, only to be guided into his chest, hands roaming from your face to your arms and finally around your shoulders to keep you in place.

“I’m not, I promise I’m not! It’s just cute.”

“How is this cute, Chris?” You asked, voice muffled against his plain black t-shirt.

“Well, you’re ovulating. And when you ovulate, you can sometimes get a bit emotional and… aroused. So wanting to have babies and make them is completely natural, and I would never make fun of you for wanting either.” He explained in his typical fashion, his awkwardness making the situation a lot less mortifying for you and his accent more prominent than usual, something you noticed happened when he usually ranted. It was comforting. But one thing made your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head tilting back until you were staring at him once more.

“Wait, how did you know I was ovulating? I didn’t even know that.”

“I try to keep track of it so we don’t end up having any pregnancy scares but, seeing as you’re ready to be a mom, I guess I don’t have to anymore.” The mischievous tone returned and you immediately pushed him away, pointing a finger at him in a silent warning.

“No! We both already have too many responsibilities, Chris. You know we don’t have time for a baby.”

“I can multitask and I’ll make time. C’mon, (Y/n/n),” You yelped as he spun you around in a dramatic fashion, wrapping an arm around your waist as his other hand massaged your abdomen, pulling your back flush to his chest as his head rest in the crook of your neck.

“I think you’ll be really cute pregnant. Plus, we’ll have a little boy or girl calling us mommy and daddy, they’ll be busy playing with their uncle Changbin and Felix on weekends while we make them a brother or sister.” He tried to coax, lips pressing to your neck and leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone to the spot just behind your ear, a breathy sigh leaving you as you shut your eyes in pleasure.

“You’re an idiot,”

“I’m just determined.” He corrected you, hands sliding to rest on your waist only to ease up your shirt to massage your sides, your hand flying behind you to tangle your fingers into his hair for some sort of anchor through the teasing touches that sent your hypersensitivity into overdrive.

“Are you sure we’re ready? We’ve never really talked about this.” You said, slowly twisting in his arms and maneuvering yourself to face him, drawing him away from your now slightly damp neck and his eyes bore into yours with a dark gaze that screamed lust and need.

“The day I met you, I told myself ‘we’re going to get marry and have five beautiful kids’. I haven’t changed my mind on that and I think the sooner we start, the better.” Chan said in a serious tone, the kind of voice that expressed nothing but authoritativeness and certainty, a chill running down your spine and your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, not wanting to seem too shy now at the slightly lewd confession but not wanting to pounce on him then and there and kill the romantic atmosphere.

“I-I guess we should get started then.”

*----*----*----*

You thought everything was said and done, that you’d be nude with your boyfriend rolling around the sheets of your bed in a desperate attempt of procreating one of your soon-to-be many kids, but the excitement you felt just moments ago slowly died as you lied naked on your back, rolling your eyes to your side to see Chan equally as bare with his eyes glued to his phone.

“Chris,” You said sweetly, trying to hide your bitter tone as he refused to look in your direction.

“I know, babe, I’m just trying to find which position would be best for conceiving.”

“Literally any position! We just need the sperm to meet the eggs!” You growled, eyes somehow managing to widen more as he still ignored you, a pout on your lips and a huff leaving your nose.

“I’m taking a nap.”

“Okay, I’ll be done soon.”

You rolled your eyes before turning your back on him, doubting your bundle of joy would be in you any time soon.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan smut #stray kids fanfics #bang chan fanfics #bang chan au #stray kids au #kpop fanfics #kpop au #kpop smut #kpop fluff #bang chan reactions #stray kids reactions #im-whatchamccallit

[fanfickittycat]

One of Us

Title: One of Us

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen (anime)

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Fic Summary: You return to Tokyo where you are reunited with the man who broke your heart a decade ago

Rating: T

A/N: my first Nanami fic!!! I love him so much. Just a simple one-shot about rekindling your love after being apart with a fluffy ending. Yes, the title is an ABBA reference, no I will not be taking any questions on it at this time. If you'd like to read this on AO3 then you can here otherwise the fic is below the cut. Let me know what you thought!!!

I’m lucky that I came back during the spring, you thought to yourself, as you meandered around campus. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and pink petals danced around your ankles with every step. Even the scent infused itself into the air, carrying a bittersweet undertone to it as you reminisced about your time here as a student. The sound of chalk on the board; the feel of the grass against your cheek as you hit the ground during training; the look on Nanami’s face when he rejected you and this world. It had been spring then too.

“You’re here!” trust Gojo to spoil a melancholy moment. You rolled your eyes playfully, accepting the hair ruffling from your upperclassman with weak jabs back at him.

“Gojo, stop” you laughed “we’re not kids anymore.”

“Says who?” he pulled away, adjusting the black blindfold over his eyes “you still look the same.” He teased, patting your head for emphasis. You still came up a whole head shorter than him and then some.

“You don’t” you retorted “you look old. What are you, like 40?”

“What?! You know I’m not” he whined. He was so easy to wind up sometimes. You half listened to him as he complained to you, citing his skin care routine and the regular comments he got about how youthful he looked before nudging him teasingly. The two of you walked back down the path towards the main building, feeling the nostalgia seep into your bones softly.

“You really haven’t changed” you said with a smirk “still vain as ever.”

“And you’re still as sharp tongued as ever.” He sighed, putting an arm around you “still. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to throw a party.”

“You’re a lightweight, Gojo” you said, remembering the time he had snuck in vodka during the winter of his final year. He had wanted to show off and ended up throwing up after two shots, before he passed out in the same pile of vomit. He had never snuck in alcohol again.

“You’re not, I remember you and Nanami having a drinking contest one time.”

“It wasn’t a drinking contest. We were just having wine and cheese. It was a very civilised affair.”

“You must have done a lot of that kind of thing in Europe.”

“Not really” you shrugged “it’s not really something to do when you’re alone.” You didn’t mean to sound so sad, but it wasn’t easy to hide, especially from a man with Six Eyes. You were glad he didn’t press you on it, instead opting to blabber on about how great his new first year students were, and his unmatched skill as a teacher. Gojo always seemed to walk the line between being insufferable and incredible. Nanami had often winced whenever he heard Gojo start a new tangent, and you would rub his back reassuringly. It became an unspoken gesture between the two of you. When you’d failed at mastering a new cursed technique, Nanami would be there to hand you a tissue for your bloodied nose and rub soothing circles on your back. Maybe that’s why your final moment together was so sad. You’d told him you loved him, and he told you that he wanted nothing to do with sorcery in exchange for a normal, human life. He’d left you crying, and the absence of his palm on your back made you feel colder and more alone than ever.

“…so the official party is at 7 but the real party will start after. Are you listening?”

“Official party at 7. Real party after.” You repeated “I’ll wear something that can suit both.”

You had wanted to ask Gojo if Nanami was going to be there, but you held your tongue instead. You hadn’t heard anything from him after you two had split ways, with him becoming a salary man and you going abroad to conduct research. You already knew that if you asked, you’d be met with disappointment. Still, perhaps it was better this way. You might actually be able to relax tonight and remember what social interaction felt like. You wouldn’t have to worry about what to say if you saw him there, or overthink the black dress you were planning on wearing tonight. You’d heard that even Utahime was going to be there. You owed it to everyone making an effort for you, to be present and gracious.

The nerves were still there of course. You were happy to see the small collection of former classmates and teachers there, and excited to catch up. It was strange to think of how close you all were once and then you’d left and avoided talking to anyone beyond a few words at a time. Now, the bonds between you were a little rusty but still strong. It calmed the butterflies in your stomach to know that everyone still accepted you, though Utahime scolded you for it. Your eyes kept lingering at the door, in anticipation of him entering the room with a curt apology about his lateness but then you’d catch yourself and internally reprimand your actions.

“You’ve always been too tough on yourself” Utahime said, sipping her tea knowingly.

“Sorry” you apologised lamely, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

She huffed at you “stop apologising, it’s not your fault that men are idiots.” She eyed Gojo, who was trying to impersonate Yoshinobu, and sighed deeply. It made you smile.

“Thanks” you wanted to say something more but the lack of social interaction over the many years constricted your words. You didn’t even know what to say, let alone how to physically say it. Utahime didn’t mind however and squeezed your shoulder.

“God, I can’t stand him” she said, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. You turned to see Gojo laughing obnoxiously at something.

“Still single too, I presume” you said.

“You know he could never be tied down and imagine that poor woman” she groaned “it’s best he stays single. Imagine if he procreated.” She shuddered, making you laugh.

Ieri joined the two of you, shaking her head at her co-worker’s antics “I’m glad you’re back” she said to you “being a woman in this line of work is hard enough, and then you have to deal with that.”

You smiled “I’m glad to be back, even if it’s a little hard sometimes.”

“You know” Ieri looked down at her drink that she had spiked “wounds take time to heal and it’s important to cover them, but you also have to take the bandages off at some point and let it breathe.”

“You’re wise as ever Ieri” you said.

“Hmmm I don’t think so” Utahime said, frowning “if she was so ‘wise’ then she’d quit smoking.” It prompted a whole conversation, part jokes, part argument between the two and then Gojo stepped in to see what was happening which led to him being verbally bullied by the two women as you watched on and laughed.

“You’re all being so mean to me considering I planned this party” Gojo said, mock snivelling “and the after party.”

“That’s true” you said, perking Gojo up instantly “thank you for inviting everyone.”

“We’re not done yet” he said, bringing a corner of his blindfold down to wink at you.

The after party was more chaotic than you had envisioned. Despite not drinking anything, Gojo still managed to scream-sing the lyrics to every song into the karaoke microphone, sometimes even trying to elongate certain sounds in an attempt to emulate Mariah Carey. Needless to say, Utahime was so irritated that she agreed to join Ieri outside while she smoked. You wandered over to the bar and pouring a generous amount of wine into your glass, feeling warm and happy for the first time in a long time. Of course, you knew that it was the alcohol primarily, but it had also been so long since you’d had fun. You were going to allow yourself to enjoy it.

“Didn’t you think I was soulful?” Gojo asked, his grin wide and satisfied like the Cheshire cat.

“Very” you said, watching out the corner of his eye as he poured himself a coke triumphantly “I didn’t even know some of those notes existed.”

He shrugged mock casually “sometimes it’s a curse to be so blessed.” You two continued to talk, laughing at the ridiculous things Gojo said as he sat on the bar stool next to you, leaning casually against the bar. He sat up quickly at one point, looking past you with rapt attention.

“What is it, boy?” you jokingly asked and when he didn’t answer quickly enough you turned to look behind you. There, standing cautiously at the door in a jacket and tie was Nanami.

“Finally,” you heard Gojo murmur but when you turned back to confront him, he had disappeared into thin air. You felt afraid to turn, knowing that Nanami had probably seen you. You felt your heart race in your chest. He was here. This wasn’t a dream or your imagination. The wine made your legs feel weak and shaky as you clumsily stood, pressing your hands down your dress to smooth it out. Your palms felt clammy as you did so. Downing the remainder of the wine in your glass was attractive, but you could already feel his presence near you.

“Nanami” you breathed out, swallowing nervously as you looked up at him. You had often thought about what would happen if you met again and you’d played the scenario in so many ways; one where you were cool and calm, another where you cracked a killer one liner; even one where you’d pull him in for a kiss that would ignite the flames of your relationship. Instead, you felt your nerves shoot through your body and you felt like a mess.

“Your hair” you said lamely, reaching a hand up before stopping yourself and letting your fingers curl into your palm in shame “it’s different.”

“Yes” he seemed taken aback by your sudden note on his appearance “I changed it a while ago.”

“It looks nice” you said, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your pathetic comment “it suits you.” This wasn’t a lie. The shorter cut emphasised the sharpness of his cheekbones, which looked lethal in the dimmed lighting. He was taller too, if only by a little, and broader as well. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d look better after all this time. It made it hard to think coherently.

“Thank you” he said, “you look well too.” Disappointment already tinged in your stomach. He was just as strict with his feelings now as ever before. You both stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, wanting to speak and yet not at the same time.

“How’s normal life working out for you?” You asked, hoping your jovial tone would make things less tense.

“Oh. Well, it didn’t” he said, taking a seat on the barstool and pouring himself a glass of wine to join you “I tried to do it, but I couldn’t. Work is shit.”

Your surprised both you and he when you laughed “and what? This is the height of luxury?”

He smiled into his glass “no, it’s shit, as well but at least I’m better at it.” He raised his glass to you to clink “to this sorcery shit.” You smiled too, eagerly charging your glass to meet his. You watched him sip, allowing yourself to really look at him. Your eyes traced over his profile, drinking in the angles of his jawline and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I’m sure Europe was better” he said, making you snap out of your daze “at the very least, the food must have been delicious.”

“Oh, yeah” you said inattentively, thinking about evenings in foreign capitals where you fell asleep over your work with a half empty bowl of ramen next to you.

“It was interesting, and I learned a lot” you said, repeating what you had told everyone “I’m glad I’m home though.” You looked at him to gauge his reaction. His face was impassive as stone as he nodded. Dejected, you swirled the liquid around your glass, unsure of how to proceed.

“You were so adamant about leaving” you found yourself saying, the wine loosening your tongue “I’d never seen you so determined about something before.”

“I thought I knew everything back then” he sighed “I was so sure that I’d turn my back on this and work hard to maintain a normal life with a stable job, and money, and a family to provide for.”

You felt stunned “I didn’t know you wanted a wife and kids.”

He smiled without humour “well, something like that.” You watched wordlessly as he emptied the glass down his throat.

“I guess this line of work makes it hard to have those kinds of things.” You could picture Nanami in your head, in a dark suit and tie as he kissed his wife and child goodbye before going to work. He’d probably be good at it too. Firm but caring as he helped his child with their maths homework or opened a jar for his wife who would cook dinner for him every night. He’d dote on his family too, taking them to the beach and up the mountains or abroad. He’d probably keep a picture of them on his desk at work too. It pained you that he felt he couldn’t have that; let alone that you could never give him that.

He turned to look at you “well that and I knew I couldn’t tie you down like that.”

“Me?” you couldn’t have hidden your shock if you tried.

“You wanted a career” he said plainly “one that involved research into cursed objects and continuing to improve your skills and techniques. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t even give me a choice” your throat felt hoarse as you grappled with this new truth “you just made that decision for me.” You stood up, feeling woozy on your tipsy legs but determined all the same to get away. You needed air, and the chance to absorb everything you’d heard. All these years you’d assumed he felt nothing for you, and you’d been so embarrassed and upset that you put yourself in self-exile because of it.

“Would you have gone with me if I asked?” he said, following you up the stairs and out of the basement of the bar. The night air was cold and crisp against your hot body.

“Would you really have given up everything because of me?”

“I did give up everything because of you.” You said, turning to clutch the sleeve of his beige blazer, feeling your heart palpitate as your knuckle brushed the skin of his hand. Tears pricked your eyes and you looked down, feeling the rush of emotions you had kept chained away in the shadows rear its head into the light.

“I’m sorry I realised it all too late” he said, and before you could think he had pulled you into a tight embrace. You fought against him at first, wanting to be angry with him for assuming things on your behalf and making you suffer so miserably for so long, but you couldn’t. You gave in, letting your tears blot onto his rich blue shirt. His tie tickled your cheek as he let you press your face into his chest like you used to. His hand automatically began to take small, gentle laps on your back. He whispered his apologies over and over again, finally pressing a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“Nanami” you mumbled, pulling away so you could look up at him. His eyes were piercing as they regarded you. One of his hands remained on your back, whilst the other came up to cup your cheek fondly.

“I love you” he said quietly, pink appearing in his cheeks as he admitted it to you “and I hope it’s not too late to say it, however I’d understand if you didn’t feel the same. I was awful to you.” He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped when you pressed a finger against his soft lips.

“Kento” you said, tasting the way his name sounded for the first time “I love you too.” He took it as permission to lean down, capturing your lips against his in a kiss that you had been dreaming of since you’d met. He was still cautious as always, not wanting to push you too much, but you couldn’t help but enthusiastically pull him closer, standing on the tips of your toes to be closer to him. You shivered when he opened his mouth to take your bottom lip between his own, sucking on the plump skin as you felt a whisper of wind snake around the two of you, depositing fallen petals on your shoulders like confetti.

#updates #my writing #fanfickittycat #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk one shot #jjk headcanons #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento drabble #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fanfic

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess Of All Saiyans

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Masterlist

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Hey guys! Chapter nine is here. And this one is a fun one. As always, I hope you enjoy. And if you have any comments or questions regarding this fic, feel free to let me know.

Also if you've been following this story for a while, then you'd know how inconsistent I am when I post chapters of this story. Sometimes it takes me two weeks to write another chapter, and other times it takes me an entire month. So if you're interested in being notified whenever I post a new chapter, you can join my tag list here.

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Chapter 9

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Vegeta and Raditz land simultaneously, both Saiyans carefully observing their surroundings. All of the Dragon Balls have remained in place, but that provides very little relief. There isn't a trace of your presence, not a footprint, not even a stray hair. "Y/N!" Raditz shouts at the top of his lungs. This was a severe mistake on his part. For his own sake, Raditz better hope the Ginyu force hasn't heard all of his commotion.

Vegeta paces back and forth, his hands knotted through his hair. "Relax, Vegeta. She couldn't have gotten far." Despite Raditz's calm words, his tone gives him away completely. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that he's just as anxious as Vegeta. 

Raditz's advice doesn't seem to calm down the prince even a little. In fact, he only seems to grow more distraught. "Raditz, you don't understand. I never disclosed the location of the Dragon Balls to her."

Raditz furrows his brows at the smaller Saiyan. "What the hell, Vegeta!" Never in his wildest dreams did Raditz ever imagine himself shouting at the prince. He didn't even notice that Gohan and Krillin had joined them. Hopefully, they've picked up bits and pieces of the conversation because neither Saiyan has the patience to deal with their idiocy at the moment. "Just--- What the fuck were you thinking?" Raditz doesn't understand. How can Vegeta go from ordering someone to stay glued to your side at all times to leaving you to fend for yourself on a foreign planet? It's only been a few weeks. How can he have gone through such a drastic change in such a short amount of time?

"If I knew the Ginyu Force was coming, do you think I would've left her alone!" Their bickering is doing nothing to help. In fact, it's probably making the situation worse.

"Alright. How about you both calm down." Krillin decides to jump in and play peacemaker. "Y/N seems more than capable of taking care of herself. We need to focus on the threat. We need to get this over with and summon the dragon before something bad happens."

Both Saiyans turn to the smaller earthling, glaring daggers at him. "Who gives a damn about immortality right now! You don't know the first thing about my sister! So don't stand there all high and mighty and act like you do." Krillin hit a nerve, but it wasn't just in Vegeta. 

The earthling wants to revive his friends, but there is something he doesn't understand about Raditz. You've been the faint speck of light in his otherwise shitty world, the only friend the Saiyan has ever had. Even though he stood with his brother, you're still a priority over the resurrection of a handful of puny earthlings. 

"Interesting to see where your priorities lie, Geta!" Your legs have been sticking out of your handcrafted shelter the entire time. It's funny to see what details people miss while they're in a state of panic. You lean forward, revealing yourself to the abnormal group. Now your entire body hangs off the mountain.

Four sets of eyes look up at you, all with varying responses present on their features. "Oh, thank god," Vegeta whispers, at an octave low enough only for him to hear. Raditz places a hand on his chest, sighing in relief as Vegeta's features contort in displeasure. "What did I tell you about pulling shit like this? Get your ass down here!"

You jump down, landing in front of the Dragon Balls. This ensures that you maintain a safe distance away from your brother just in case he decides to kill you. "Don't get your panties in a twist."

Vegeta's nostrils flare, complemented with his entire body shaking with rage. "You scared me half to death." You expected a lecture, but he's not even raising his voice. You may have freaked him out more than you originally intended.

Your lips curve upwards. "That sounds like a you problem, big brother." Something is particularly satisfying about throwing his own words in his face.

"I suppose I deserved that." His features soften. "I'm just relieved that you're alright."

Raditz walks over to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Well, what did I do to deserve that scare?" 

"Collateral damage Raditz. Call it a happy accident."

"Enough of the chit-chat. Now let's---" Vegeta cuts himself off as you all lookup. You can sense the Ginyu Force, and they're heading straight for you. You grab Raditz, pulling him into the homemade cave. The others were facing the Dragon Balls. There would've been no time for them to get up here as well. Your higher altitude could be used to your advantage since you'll have the element of surprise. 

It's a bit cramped, but when you created the cave. You never expected to share the space with a Saiyan of Raditz's size. He takes up more space than you and Vegeta combined. You both watch the Ginyu Force land in front of a trembling Gohan, a frozen Krillin, and an aloof Vegeta. You really hope the Genius Force doesn't do those god-awful poses. You've already been traumatized enough for the week.

You decide to keep a close eye on Captain Ginyu, who is currently exchanging pleasantries with your brother. Well, as pleasant as it can get for two beings who are about to murder each other in cold blood. Followed by murmurings from various members of the Ginyu Force and Recoome's delayed laughter. "Just hand over the Dragon Balls, Vegeta. No need to make this any harder than it has to be." Vegeta's posture remains stiff. It's clear your brother isn't going to budge. Their little group is going to have to pry that orb from his dead body. "Come on, Vegeta, be a sport. We already have five." He gestures to the spheres behind him. That means Frieza will have five. Can you really trust those neanderthals to hold onto their Dragon Balls? No, you were raised to trust no one's capabilities but your own, not even Vegeta's. 

Jeice looks around, his green eyes scanning around the area. "Where's that gorgeous sister of yours, Vegeta?"

Vegeta glares at the red man. "Even if my sister was here. I doubt she'd be interested, Jeice. I mean, she never has been." Oh, your brother knows all about your history with the mutant Brench-seijin. He's overly flirty, and you reject him. It was a vicious never-ending cycle. If Vegeta had no self-control, he would've murdered him years ago for even looking in your direction. In his eyes, Jeice is unworthy of a woman of your status.

"Well, with Raditz out of the picture, there's no chance for Saiyan offspring. So I figured I'd shoot my shot." You cringe. You're not sure which idea is more repulsive, a relationship with Jeice or procreating with Raditz.

"Even if you were the last man in the universe. My sister wouldn't so much as glance in your direction." Vegeta and Jeice continue going back and forth as an idea pops in your head. This may be your only opportunity to get your hands on a Dragon Ball. You're only chance to put a fork in Frieza's plans for immortality. 

You silently climb out of the cave, dropping to the ground. The others can unmistakably see you, but they make no expressions alerting the Ginyu Force of your presence. You grab the closest orb before promptly flying back to the cave. Call this your insurance policy for when Krillin and Vegeta ultimately screw up. You escaped that entirely undetected. Is the term elite just thrown around loosely in the Frieza Force? Because that's what you're starting to think.

You hand the Dragon Ball to Raditz, directing your gaze back outside. "Those scouters of yours can't detect Dragon Balls, can they?" It was a rhetorical question. Vegeta knows they don't have that type of technology yet. You know how your brother thinks, and this is a faulty plan on his part. "Then you lose!" Vegeta pivots, launching the ball at an alarming speed. It would be a fatal blow to the head if it hit someone. 

Burter takes off, chasing after the orb. He flips in the air, catching the ball with ease. You swear, Vegeta can be such a dumbass sometimes. He knows Burter rivals you in speed. He may even be a bit faster than you.  

You shake your head, turning to Raditz, lowering your voice to a whisper. "Here's the plan. When I formulate a distraction, you're going to take the Dragon Ball and get the hell out of here. And Raditz, go hide the damn thing, somewhere no one will find it." He grins from ear to ear, causing you to glare at him. You know how this moron thinks by now. "And do not hide it with that Earth woman. That will just get her killed."

"What if that's my intention?"

"I don't think little brother Kakarot would be very pleased with you, but it's your call." You stand in silence for a moment, your piercing gaze lingering on the Saiyan. "Though, I can assure you. If Frieza gets his hands on that Dragon Ball. I'll kill you. In the most graphic and painful way, I can imagine." He gulps nervously, rapidly shaking his head in understanding. To Raditz, you're the only life form that can still sound menacing while whispering. 

You revert your vision back to the little gathering outside. And as you assumed, Krillin lost his Dragon Ball as well. Ginyu decides to take Vegeta for himself, which doesn't go over well with his team. They're acting like a bunch of children. It's almost comical. "Fine." The Captain sighs. "I'll take the Dragon Balls back to Lord Frieza. You all can sort this out amongst yourselves." They chant Ginyu's name a few times. They kinda remind you of a cult.

The four lower members of the Ginyu force move to stand in a circle. "So the winner gets Vegeta. And for second place---" Guldo is cut off by Recoome.

"The rest. Make the two runts a set. Together they'll be more equal to Vegeta." Oh, that can't be going over well with your brother. The fact that Recoome would declare that those two are his equals must be sending his blood pressure through the roof. 

They begin playing rock paper scissors. This must be how they decide their battles. It's like a game to them. Every single match ends in a draw. At this rate, you could be stuck up here forever. 

You doze off until you hear Recoome cheering. The endless match must have finally ceased. "Ya! I get Vegeta!" Fate can be an amusing thing sometimes. Vegeta must be ecstatic, getting to show the moron just how much stronger he is than those pathetic runts. 

"Of course, I'm stuck with the runts." Guldo wines. He's the last creature who should be referring to anyone as a runt. You could squash that little freak like a bug.

Ginyu approaches the Dragon Balls, picking them up with his telekinesis. He counts them before snapping his head toward the dumbest member of the Ginyu Force. "Recoome! There's only four here!"

Recoome scratches the back of his neck, that classic confused look on his face. "I'm sorry, Captain Ginyu. I thought I counted five."

Jeice turns to his superior. "I told you we shouldn't have trusted him with counting the Dragon Balls."

The Captain takes a deep breath, attempting to keep his composure. "It doesn't matter. I'll search for the missing Dragon Ball. It's probably with Y/N anyway." He takes off, heading in the direction of Frieza's ship. Well, that takes out your major concern. The others are child's play compared to Ginyu.

You pay minimum attention to Guldo's battle with Krillin and Gohan. You're more focused on finding an opening for a distraction. You begin to notice significant holes in their fight. Guldo will be in one area and then magically appear in another, and he's not teleporting. If he was, you would've been able to track his movements. Could the rumors about that green freak be true? Can he really pause time? They must be. That's the only feasible explanation. So under the assumption that Guldo can stop time, the earthlings don't even stand a chance. No matter what they do, that four-eyed freak will always remain one step ahead of them. 

You do, however, pick up on something. Guldo appears to hold his breath before every skip in time. That must be a limitation in his abilities to pause time. So if those two can somehow prevent him from holding his breath, they should be able to best him. You know what, scratch that. Those two probably haven't picked up on his abnormal behaviors.

Though, the earthlings do appear to have the advantage at the moment. And the rest of the Ginyu Force won't let Guldo forget it. They're heckling him so loud that you can hear them clearly from all the way up here. Guldo's kinda like the Raditz of the group, just a lot less respected. 

Guldo tosses the pair up into the air as a strange yellow light surrounds them. He's claiming it's a paralysis attack. That doesn't sound good for the earthlings. 

Krillin and Gohan struggle almost as if they were trapped in invisible bindings. As far as you can tell, they're immobile. If Guldo felt the need to resort to such dire tactics, he must think that he can't take out the pair any other way. So when the earthling and the half-breed combine their strength, they're mightier than Guldo. That's quite impressive considering how weak they were back on Earth.

"Now I'm gonna show you what happens when you embarrass me in front of the boys." You clench your fists, your nails digging into your palms, as you watch Guldo intently. As much as you hate to admit it, you're going to need those two runts. So if Guldo were to kill them, it would be very unfavorable. He uses another mind trick to pull a tree from the ground, using the bottom end as a makeshift spear. He points the weapon at the pair, taunting them. He's gonna impale them with a fucking stick. What a pathetic way to go.

You do wonder why Vegeta hasn't intervened yet. He's never played by their rules before. So what's stopping him now? Your brother may simply believe that Gohan and Krillin deserve to die. For not adhering to his warning regarding the weakest link of the Ginyu Force. It's not below Vegeta to be that petty. You can't blame him though, those two fools have no sense of self-control.

The slimy green creature's obnoxious cackling invades your ears. Honestly, Guldo's just pissing you off more than he was before.

Amidst the chaos, you jump out of the cave, flying a bit to distance yourself from suspicion. You shoot a purple beam at Guldo, efficiently decapitating him. Raditz seems to have gotten the message since he checked out with the Dragon Ball sometime during the commotion. He better hide that thing somewhere safe because his life depends on it.

"Did you really think I'd let a creature as pathetic as Guldo kill anything with a drop of Saiyan blood!" Your voice booms causing all eyes to land on you. You place a hand on your chest, fixating your gaze on the Ginyu Force. "I'm hurt that you didn't include me in your little game."

"Oh, our apologies Y/N." Jeice's thick accent invades your ears. "We should have assumed. Wherever Vegeta is, you're always somewhere nearby."

You swear you can hear faint grumbling. You just can't quite locate the source. Your eyes scan over the ground until you discover the origin of the sound. Long story short, it was Guldo's severed head. So his species can survive decapitation, good to know. "Defeated by a damn Saiyan. And the weaker one at that." You could run circles around that little freak. If you went head to head, he wouldn't even be considered a challenge. Guldo's giving himself far too much credit.

Vegeta chuckles darkly. "Well, don't worry." He strides over to the talking head. "You won't have to deal with that shame for long." Vegeta finishes the job, eliminating that embarrassment of the group of supposed elite warriors. 

The three remaining members complain about Guldo's demise, but it's not for the reason you may think. They're more upset about the impact his absence will have on their ridiculous pose. You wish you could say you were surprised, but you've known those idiots far too long to believe anything else.

The half-breed and earthling walk over to you, identical expressions of gratitude apparent on their faces. "We owe you one, Y/N." You roll your eyes at Krillin. It was a simple business decision. And it was nothing more than that. 

Gohan nods in agreement. "Ya, thanks." You cringe at his gratitude. Why are they thanking you? You killed Guldo for your own selfish reasons.

"Your lives had nothing to do with it." Well, at least Krillin's. If Guldo did kill the half-breed, it would've been an embarrassment to your entire race in hell. "I needed a distraction. I saw an opportunity."

"She's right, so pull yourselves together. Your lives are incredibly insignificant to us." Vegeta's lying. Your brother knows you need them. He's just far too prideful to admit it.

Burter turns to Jeice, morphing his hands to prepare for another excruciating match of rock paper scissors. "Alright, Jeice. Winner gets the Princess, and the loser gets stuck with the two runts."

Jeice shakes his head. "No, Y/N's all yours." He turns to you, his green eyes meeting your own. "I could never lay a hand on a lady as fine as the Princess." You suppress a gag, deciding to keep your mouth shut. If you were to respond, there's a good chance you could end up fighting both of them.

Burter furrows his brows at his comrade. "Are you sure?"

"Ya, go crazy, Burter." It's actually a reasonable match-up. You and Burter both have incredible speed. I guess you'll finally find out who's faster.

Now with Guldo out of the picture, it's Recoome's turn to fight Vegeta. He reminds you a bit of Nappa. Since he lacks any form of self-control. His punches at your brother are erratic. He even almost hits you, Krillin, and Gohan several times. If Recoome were to hit Krillin with that kind of force, there's no doubt in your mind that it would be a fatal blow.

"Don't go killin them all yourself!" Jeice is second in command to Ginyu, so his authority over Recoome makes sense. "I get the two runts, and Burter get's the Princess of the monkeys." One minute Jeice is flirting with you. The next, he's demeaning you. Talk about mixed signals.

You watch Recoome and Vegeta trade punches, and it's starting to lack any value of entertainment. Vegeta's covered in blood while Recoome's armor is chipped, and he's now missing tufts of hair.

You begin to grow impatient. This will be the first time you've been challenged in a while. "Yo, Burter! Let's just get this over with now. We'll make this battle a double feature." 

"Fine with me." The two of you distance yourselves from Recoome and Vegeta, commencing your battle as well.

Their gazes flicker back and forth between both battles. They were so enthralled in the action that neither Gohan nor Krillin noticed that Raditz had joined them. 

Gohan and Krillin stick to the sidelines. They're in no hurry to fight Jeice. Even though he's significantly smaller than Recoome and Burter, Krillin doesn't think Jeice's smaller size will give them any sort of advantage. 

"Raditz?" Jeice looks far from pleased. He's always been jealous of the Saiyan. Not for his strength, rather the envy stems from Raditz's luscious mane of hair. It took Jeice several years to grow his hair to an adequate length, while that fool was born with that full head of hair. Raditz meets his gaze, an arrogant smirk overtaking his features. As he waves at the green-eyed man mockingly. "But--- Y/N said you ran off!"

Mid-battle, you turn to Jeice. Without even looking, you still manage to keep up with Burter. "I'm a compulsive liar, Jeice! It's a nasty habit."

Jeice huffs, crossing his arms at the largest Saiyan. "Raditz is mine. I'm throwing him in with the two runts." A chuckle escapes your lips. He's underestimating what the three of them could accomplish together. Jeice is letting his own petty feelings cloud his judgment. How arrogant.

Krillin's brows furrow as his eyes linger on you. There's something that isn't quite adding up. He turns to Raditz and Gohan, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Hey, guys. I've been thinking about something. Remember back on Earth how Vegeta said that Saiyans get stronger after battle. Well, Vegeta's gotten stronger after several fights, but do you see Y/N? She's still able to effortlessly keep up. Even though she's barely lifted a finger. How is that possible?" The earthling's eyes widen as the gears begin to shift in his head. "Unless. Is she stronger---"

Raditz's hand covers Krillin's mouth, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper. "Silence, you earthling. Keep that big mouth of yours shut."

Krillin's teeth sink into his captor's hand, successfully freeing himself from the Saiyan's clutches. Several muffled phrases of obscenity escape Raditz's lips as he rapidly shakes his hand in an attempt to soothe the pain. "She is. Isn't she?" The look on Raditz's face told Krillin all he needed to know. "But you knew that already, and I bet you know why too. I wonder how Vegeta would feel about this?" His last sentence was clearly a passive-aggressive threat toward both you and Raditz. The earthling wouldn't be dumb enough to follow through with that threat, would he?

Raditz scowls at Krillin. How dare this pathetic little weasel attempt to threaten him. "Not a word to Vegeta. If you value your life. I'd stop talking now. Vegeta doesn't know, and it would be very unfavorable if he found out, for all of us." His tone shifts, his eyes flashing with vulnerability. "Something bad happened to us as children, and Vegeta still doesn't know about it." He returns to his menacing demeanor, your shared childhood trauma getting pushed to the back of his mind becoming yet again a distant memory. "So you will stop your absurd thoughts now. Or I can assure you. The second you resurrect your feeble friends, I will single-handedly slaughter them, and then you will follow." Krillin gulps, nodding in fear. He better pray Vegeta heard none of their conversations because he has a feeling Raditz will stick to his word.

Raditz thinks he knows all your secrets, but he's only aware of the tip of the iceberg. Below the surface lies pain and suffering the older Saiyan could never imagine from you. You keep these secrets to protect him, to protect Vegeta, and most importantly, to protect yourself. But if either of them were to find out the truth, your life as you know it would come crashing down. If they were to find out your greatest shame, your pride would be in shambles, and they would know the truth. You're just a weak Saiyan who's an embarrassment to her family name.

You're not exactly sure how much time has passed. You've completely blocked out the entirety of your surroundings, remaining focused on your battle with Burter. You can't joke around as you did back on Earth. There's no room for error today.

The two of you take turns beating the absolute hell out of each other. If you keep this up, there will be no end to this anytime soon. You shriek, spiking up your energy substantially. Burter's eyes bug out as his scouter explodes. Those pieces of junk are really no match to this energy-sensing technique. 

Even though you've blocked out your surroundings, you know the two of you have moved a significant distance away from the others. You could even be on the other side of the planet by now. In the back of your mind, you can't help but worry about your brother especially, now that you're so far away. Recoome may be an idiot, but he's a strong one. You have to remain focused. You can't help Vegeta if you don't help yourself first.

You begin to get the edge over Burter. Now he's attempting to block your attacks, but due to his large size, he's failing horribly. A couple more blows, and you'll finally be able to knock him down. You've taken down guys much larger than Burter, creatures who were triple his size. 

Over the years, you've learned to use your smaller size to your advantage. Making your opponent's sheer size more of a nuisance than a strength. Burter begins to struggle further. He's now barely able to keep up with you. "I'm the fastest being in the universe! How can one of you monkeys be faster than me?" You scowl at him, finding no humor in his statement as rage boils inside of you. 

Unknown to you, you and Burter aren't alone. Goku has been watching your battle in awe for quite some time now. He knows he should've left to find the others, but he just couldn't help it. He can't take his eyes off of you. This is the first time he's seen you fight, and you're much stronger than the Earthbound Saiyan believed.

Your fists clench as your entire body convulses in rage. It's not often you'll lose your temper like this. Goku swears that he saw your irises flash a shade of red. He rubs his eyes, glancing back at you. Your eyes have returned to normal. Maybe Goku is just seeing things. If you knew someone was watching, you would've kept your temper in check. 

Burter sends a blast of your energy your way. Which you dodge by teleporting behind him. You use all of your body weight to knock him down to the ground. You won't mock him like you typically do after defeating a foe. You won't take the chance of giving him an opening to strike back. In the palm of your hand, you create an orb of energy, disintegrating his head. Successfully, taking out your second member of the great Ginyu Force.

You fall to your knees, desperately gasping for air, before grabbing your side, wincing in excruciating pain. Damn, Burter must have nicked you good. You look to your side, noticing just how much blood has leaked through your armor. This is gonna be an issue, though you've fought through worse. You stand back up to check your body for any further damage. There seems to be no other physical damage to your form. Your armor is a bit ripped, though. 

"Wow! You're really strong." You gasp, moving your fist, aiming it at whoever is in front of you. They swiftly catch your fist, preventing you from attacking. Their grip is secure enough to stop you from escaping, yet at the same time pleasantly gentle.

You move your gaze upwards, finally gathering the courage to look them in the eye. Your brows furrow as Goku's dumb face enters your field of vision. "God, Kakarot! When the hell did you get here?" You shake yourself out of his grasp, taking a few steps back, putting some distance between you two.

"A while ago." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I got distracted by your fight." So he was observing you the whole time. Why does that make you feel incredibly self-conscious?

"Of course you did." You sigh, moving several strands of hair out of your face. Goku steps closer to you, bringing his hand to meet your forehead. It's so big that it takes up the entirety of your forehead and even the top of your head. "Kakarot. What the hell are you doing?"

"Just be quiet for a second." It's official. Goku has lost what was left of his mind. "So it is true. You guys are working together. And that Frieza guy is a much bigger deal than I thought." How does he know about all of that? And why is he still touching you?

You slap his arm, convincing him to remove his hand. "And why's that?"

"Because you're afraid of him."

Your face flushes. "I'm not scared of Frieza. I'm not afraid of anything." Your cross your arm, averting his gaze.

"Yes, you are." He pouts. "I saw it." Kakarot saw it? How the hell--- Did Kakarot acquire the ability to read thoughts? Is that even possible?

You decide to divert his mind from his accusations. Knowing Kakaort, that shouldn't be hard at all. "Since when can you read minds?"

He rubs his chin, lost deep in thought. "I don't know--- I just had a feeling."

"Well, let's go. And new rule." You bring your hand up, pointing your index finger at the buffoon. "Stay out of my thoughts!"

He holds up his hands in surrender, nodding. "Are we gonna go find that Captain Ginyu guy?"

"No. We have to go make sure that Recoome and Jeice haven't killed the others first. Don't bite off more than you can chew." Goku has this aura around him. You can tell he's gotten stronger. He just needs to learn how to get his priorities in order.

Okay. All you have to do is pin down someone's energy. There are at least four sources to choose from, so this should be fairly simple. You shut your eyes. This should help you concentrate adequately. 

"Ohh, what's that?"

Your head snaps toward Goku. "What?" You swear the man has an attention span equivalent of an insect.

He bends down, observing the ground intently. "It's like a green string."

"A green--- Kakarot! Don't!" But you were too late. He's already yanked the tripwire.

The ground concaves beneath you, causing you to lose your footing as the two of you fall down into the pit. You fall on top of Goku. Unintentionally straddling the Saiyan. And if you thought this situation couldn't get any more awkward, you'd be wrong. Goku's arms are wrapped securely around your waist, holding you in place. Your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. And your face feels like it's been set aflame. As your eyes lock, your face only turns a deeper shade of crimson. "D-Don't touch me!" You're stuttering. What the hell is happening to you?

His brows furrow. "You're the one who fell on top of me!"

"It's not my fault." His classic pout spreads across his lips. "How was I supposed to know that the ground would collapse?" 

"W-Well, you're the reason we're in this mess!" You stand up, wanting to get as far away from Goku as possible. You don't like the way you feel around him. The only time your pulse should be racing like this is during combat.

"Well, it wouldn't be called a trap if you could see it!"

"I don't get why you're so mad. Can't we just fly out?"

You snicker as your lips curve upward. "Give it a shot, Kakarot." You know it won't work, but at least his failures will provide you with some quality entertainment. It would be a pretty pathetic trap if you could simply fly out. Goku flies up, slamming his head on the invisible barrier. You break out into a fit of laughter as he falls back down. Goku jumps back up, rubbing the back of his head. "Ouch. Did you know that would happen?" Your giggling dies down as Goku begins looking around the hole. "How did this place even get here? Is this Frieza's work?"

"No. It's definitely the work of the Namekians. Frieza wouldn't be able to formulate something so elaborate in the amount of time he's had. Besides that dictator never does any of his own dirty work."

"Well, let's just sit back and relax. I'm sure we'll be fine. Someone will have to find us eventually." He has such a laid-back attitude. Maybe another alien baby crash-landed on Earth. Because with every second that passes, you're finding it harder to believe that Goku has Saiyan ancestry. 

"Oh, ya, let's just relax." You mock him. "While the others are probably getting chopped up into little pieces by the remnants of the Ginyu Force as we speak!"

"Why are you always so negative?" Is he serious? Do you have to spell out why this is potentially a very dire situation? You'd think he would show more concern for his son.

Your hands meet the sides of your head. You're practically yanking your hair out at this point. To say you're frustrated would be an understatement. "God, why am I constantly getting trapped in enclosed spaces with your idiotic bloodline! First, it was your spawn, then it was your moronic brother, and now I'm stuck with you. And you're somehow the worst of them all!" Goku just stands in front of you like a statue with that goofy smile plastered on his face. "And stop smiling when I yell at you!" 

Being stuck down here with Kakarot will be the ultimate test of your willpower----

-

Will the others make it to Y/N and Goku in time? Or will Y/N kill Goku before they even get the chance? Find out in the next chapter of The Princess of All Saiyans!

#goku #goku x reader #saiyan reader #vegeta #vegeta's sister #dbz fanfiction #dbz x reader #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball z #The Princess of All Sayians

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 08

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, mentions of violence

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

The weather was chilly as they landed in mid French night. Y/N was the first one out the plane, feeling the wind hit her naked arms due to the short sleeved dress. Sebastian, on the other hand, was the first one out of the airport, excusing himself due to business which Gwen gave little care to. In all honesty, Y/N thought she was particularly fine with the idea of the only person powerful enough to order her around being as far as possible. After all, Paris is the city of love, endless possibilities in Gwen’s mindset.

They were driven to the hotel, the landscape from the nightly Paris making Y/N want to rush out the moving car and just sit down in the grass looking at the night sky. However, Gwen was tired and Y/N knew better not to argue. She would never win in an argument with Gwen, besides, she knew exactly how the heiress acted whenever she got her way. Thinking about it, maybe only once in their whole life had Y/N won an argument with her and that had been when she was 5 and not really understanding of her role in the family. Y/N was a handmaid, the literal definition of handmaid is a female servant so why should she put in danger her own survival? If Gwen really got mad at her and disposed of her or fired her, Y/N wasn’t entirely sure how to begin a new life. Sure, she had a degree, a perfect CV but other than working as a handmaid for the mob, she had never worked before and only know was she getting paid for it. She’d rather be silent about it than put her own stability at risk.

They arrived at the hotel at around 2 AM and were quickly checked into their bedrooms. As per usual, Y/N’s bedroom was always next to Gwen’s and normally on the top floor for safety reasons. Y/N rolled her suitcase into her bedroom, bidding Gwen goodnight as she went to sleep. She threw her bag onto the bed and rushed over to the window, opening it so the night air come could in. 

She huffed, leaning against the railing of the balcony, looking up to the full moon that light the dark night sky.  Her mind flew to Sebastian and his teasing comments at the plane. In any other occasion, maybe one where he wasn’t that angry at his associates, she would’ve fought him on her idea of dreaming. Dreaming. What did he even have to dream about? Like Gwen, he was filthy rich, heck even more than her. He had power, control ... if he had a dream, he could probably have it in a snap of his fingers. She guessed that at least she was in Paris and that was good, that was fantastic. 

Frankly, her mind was just wandering around the Sebastian Stan subject because, well, it didn’t want to leave the subject. The casual and messy styles she had caught him on both in sweatpants and with his dress shirt unbuttoned had glued to a psyche. Half her brain was telling her stop thinking about your friend’s future husband and the other half was telling her to go right ahead, not like Gwen would worry about it. 

Meanwhile, Sebastian was trying to handle a deal gone wrong. The most he could do was scream at them and threaten to have their head on a plate. Even with that, his associates would rather cry about spilled milk than go and try to fix it. His father was a great man but giving leadership of his French sector to Thompson Williams had been and would forever be the worse thing ever. It wasn’t like Sebastian could just demote him, it would make most of his supporters go against him and if he just killed everyone, who would do the dirty work after? 

       - It’s the second time this year. - Sebastian poured himself a glass of whiskey, trying to whisk away the fact that he’d much rather be in his hotel room, or probably Y/N’s, than dealing with a minor man’s mistake. - I’m starting to think Mr. Williams that we might have an issue here. 

       - The shipment was faulty, it is not my f ...

       - I told you the shipment was much too cheap for its value. I remember fucking telling you not to buy it and you still bought it behind my back and lost me over three million. I will have your fucking head on a stick if this isn’t solved by you, by tomorrow. - he spat at the much lower ranked mobster who was sat down on his guest office chair, except on his own office chair. - And not a single cut of the deal will fly your way. 

       - It was a good bet, I had to take it.

       - My fucking family is not fucking based on bets, it’s based on organised deals with serious fucking people who give a damn they’re part of it. - he slammed the glass hard enough against the desk to give way to a crack. - Fix it or I’ll cut your fucking hand off. 

He grabbed his jacket’s from the hanger, slung it over his shoulder and walked outside the lesser man’s office followed by his swarms of bodyguards. Did he need the bodyguards? No, it was mostly a show of power and someone who could do the dirty job if it was necessary. However, at this point, his brain was still processing at Upper East Side times and not Paris. In simpler words, he could feel his lids heavy and his temples hurt but his mind was going haywire. He should’ve fired him, god all he wanted to do was diminish him to serving drinks at his engagements. 

He reached the Hotel Montaigne closer to 4 AM and took off to his normally reserved suite. The hotel was his, or at least in the paperworks, his father’s therefore he had certain privileges such as being able to have his own room free from pesky guests, with the best view. A view of the Tower Eiffel. A view Y/N would probably enjoy.

      - Sebastian? - his head swiftly turned to the source of the noise. He noticed Y/N standing there with sleep filled eyes in a white set of pyjamas. - You banged the door a bit too loud.

      - Did I wake you up? - he tried to soften up his tone but, sadly, the business troubles were still very much present on his mind therefore his angry facade was still very much present too.

      - I’m a light sleeper. Besides, you looked worried and I thought you might want to talk about it. - she leaned against the door frame. 

      - Is that what you do when Gwen’s upset? - he pulled on the knot of his tie, successfully loosening it up and throwing it to the side.

      - No, when Gwen’s upset I lock myself in a bunker and hope she doesn’t come find me for stress relief. - Y/N closed the door behind her, trudging up to him who had now thrown his tie and jacket to the side, unbuttoning the top first buttons of his dress shirt. - I’m guessing the meeting didn’t go well.

     - Catastrophic would be underrated. 

     - You did all you could. - she gave him a soft smile, the type of smile a partner would give you when you came back from a long day. The type of smile that wrapped you in the false idea of a comfortable home life, at least, to him. Nevertheless, Y/N seemed to embody that warmth specially when she gave him that traditional signature smile of hers. His hand, mindlessly, laid upon her elbow as to which her gaze immediately lingered upon. Once again, that typical heat that made itself present when she was around him made itself known and she shifted from side to side, teeth coming to pull at the skin of her own bottom lip. - I feel like you’re upset because have an issue relinquishing control. 

Sebastian took a step back at her sentence, lips slightly open at her statement as he found it hard to reply to her. He wondered if there was something more to her ingenue environment or if that same ingenue atmosphere had given her the unknown courage of telling that to a mob boss. Of course he had to constantly have control, that was his job. 

     - You can’t control everything in your life, Sebastian. - she sat on top of his much comfortable looking duvet. Unlike her room which was decorated in shades of white, his bedroom was decorated in dark rich shades of scarlet red and light beiges. - It goes against the laws of nature itself doesn’t it?

    - Well ... - he took to sitting by her side, leaving not much of two inches between the beginning of both their hips. - I believe that humans are really good at controlling even the laws of nature. We decide when plants bloom, when and how animals should procreate and even their genetics ... why shouldn’t I believe I can control everything?

    - Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. If you worry about every single time you lose control over your business, it’s more like punishing yourself than punishing the ones you’re meant to. 

    - I’m really grateful for your concern, Y/N, but you’re not my handmaid, you don’t have to worry about me. 

   - Don’t tell me you even wish to control who worries about you and who doesn’t. - she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him but he merely chuckled at her. 

Y/N gaze moved from his inspections one to the window, eyes agape as she came in contact with the most beautiful view she could ever picture. Mindlessly, the young woman rushed over to the balcony, only stopping once the rails hit her stomach. The night air and the look at the Tower Eiffel looked exactly like what one of her very good dreams would entail. Her eye sparkle and wondrous look did not go unnoticed by the mob boss who paced over to her side, gaze fixed on her soft complexion and how the smallest things just seemed to have the largest effect on her. Maybe owning the hotel had made him forgot how breathtaking the view really was or maybe it was because she was over there in white pyjama shorts and shirt with the most striking look in her eyes. 

    - Woah, angel. - he put his hand on her abdomen, slightly pushing her back before she could cross over the railing. - We don’t want you to fall, do we?

    - It’s just marvellous. How can you even sleep with a view like this? - well, he would very much enjoy to fall asleep in that balcony if she were by his side. 

    - I’ve been seeing this since I was a kid, Y/N. It loses its charm. 

    - No, I don’t believe that. You just have no taste.

    - I have no taste? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her. - Angel, I’ve had people’s head for less.

    - Oh ... I’m sorry. - she took a step backward, playing with her hair. 

    - I was just playing. - his hand rested on her forearm, caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. - Look, if you wa...

    - Mr. Stan? - the bodyguard knocked on the suite’s door, making Y/N take a few steps back becoming void of his touch. 

    - WHAT?! - Sebastian barked at the man, turning around, hand on top of his silver revolver just in case. Not that he was gonna shot the man in front of Y/N, he would probably traumatise her and Gwen would sue him. The man cowered in front of him, eyes settled on the young woman by his side knowing she was the only reason he wasn’t dodging a bullet.

   - There’s a call for you from Mr. Williams. 

   - You should go. - Y/N smiled, tired. - I should probably return to bed. 

   - Wait, angel, will you join me for breakfast tomorrow morning? I can get some room service, have it by the balcony.

   - I’m sorry, Sebastian. I already promised Gwen I would go shopping with her in the early morning. - sure, she’d rather be having breakfast with the Tower Eiffel in sight than having to go to the Champs-Élysées with Gwen for some high spending shopping. Yet, on the other hand, it felt odd to have breakfast with her friend’s fiancé. She shouldn’t.

Without giving too much of a look to Sebastian whose traits probably included persuasion, she returned to her bedroom, locked the door behind her and tucked herself into the comfortable sheets. Her eyes were set in the darkness of the bedroom, heart beating like a drum as his touch seemed to linger on her skin, almost like a ghost feeling. 

Y/N didn’t remember falling asleep, however it felt like she didn’t slept for long once her alarm went off. With a tiring motion, she lifted from her torso from the bed, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. She placed her feet on the floor and meandered around her room, hoping the cardio-like walk would wake her up a bit more. After sleep disappeared from her eyes she grabbed her clothing and walked off her bedroom, knocking on Gwen’s door. Much to her surprise, she was already prepared to go, sunglasses on and a dark velvet green dress on matched with brown boots.

     - Aren’t you excited? Paris shopping. - Gwen pushed her handmaid by the arm, followed by the bodyguards onto the lift. However, all Y/N could think of was Sebastian. She felt bad for denying his request, mostly because she really did enjoy the request but being on his company all the time would probably hurt his image or even worse hurt Gwen’s feelings. 

Maybe it had been her willingness to overthink a simple suggestion, but once her brain took her back to reality she was standing at the very long Champs-Élysées where Gwen was rushing around like a mad-men. Y/N always found the Champs-Élysées rather more accessible than the Upper East Side, mostly due to the existence of more low end shops and known banks than the New York district, yet, the overwhelming amount of high class shops like Marcs Jacobs and Channel made it look like a rich person’s playground. It definitely was that, but Y/N was most interested in the stores’ architecture and Paris’ landscape. However, she was not immune to some materialistic stuff, specially once the two stopped by the brilliantly built Ladurée. The shades of light turquoise like green made it look like something straight off a fairytale book and the sweets on the window display made everyone crave sugar.

    - You look very lost today. - Gwen commented, entering the shop along with her handmaid. - I haven’t seen you look this lost since you finished reading Gone Girl.

   - I’m just tired. - Y/N smiled tightly, dismissing her friend’s concerns, however, Gwen was much too curious to just let it go. - Couldn’t really sleep.

   - Alexander told me you were in Sebastian’s room last night. Is there something happening that you haven’t told me? Is it about me?

   - He just wanted to know how to get closer to you, Gwen. You know I wouldn’t tell him anything you didn’t want me to.

   - I don’t know, Y/N ... - she pointed at a pink box of what looked like macaroons on the display, handing the cashier her card. - You are very ... righteous sometimes. Pretty sure you can’t lie even without a gun to your head. 

   - You know I’m loyal to the Forrest family, I wouldn’t tell Mr. Stan anything that you didn’t allow me to. 

   - Good. I heard he was pissed about Thompson. I don’t know why he wasn’t placed a bullet in the middle of his eyes, I would. - the cashier handed her the pink box and the two women followed by the bodyguards walked back outside onto the street. 

   - You can’t just shot everyone you hate, Gwen. Who would you rule over then?

   - Newer, smarter people. 

They were out on the street until late afternoon when Gwen decided it was time to return to the hotel, which Y/N’s feet were eternally grateful for. As per usual, she had ended up carrying her fair share of bags along with the bodyguards and the weight plus all the walking had left her wanting nothing but to lay down and perish for a few seconds. 

After all the bags were in the heiress’ room and she had sneakingly, yet not that unnoticeably to Y/N, walked to the hotel bar with one of the bodyguards she was particularly found of, Y/N was finally free to return to her bedroom. Happily. she tapped her card against the bedroom door, a click indicating the door was ready to be open. Pushing her door open, her heart skipped a beat as a very familiar figure stood in the middle of her room. She let out a gasp, holding onto the handle of the door, ready to bolt off.

   - Please don’t be scared, Miss Y/N. - Mr. Williams prowled to her, a bit to close for comfort. - I just needed to have a word with you.

   - Mr. Stan and Ms. Forrest are not available, right now. Please leave my bedroom. - her knuckles held forcefully onto the handle of the door, hoping a bodyguard would notice the slightly creaked door. 

   - I wish to speak for you, please Miss. You must speak with Mr. Stan about me, try to get me in his good graces please.

   - I think you should speak with Ms. Forrest about that not me. - well good luck, she liked him even less than Sebastian and unlike the mob boss was rather reckless in her decisions.

   - I don’t think she is as influential as you are, Miss. With all due respect, I believe you’re the only one who can help me and maybe gain me some forgiveness. - his voice was honeyed, yet his words registered like nails on chalkboards on her brain. - Please, Miss Y/N, I’m sure if you ask him he won’t be as harsh. 

   - I think you misjudged my relationship towards Mr. Stan. I’m his employee, I would love to help but I don’t think he would care much for my opinion. 

   - You certainly have noticed you’re highly in his favour, Miss Y/N. Please, I’ll make it worth your while. - he grinned at her almost as if he was mocking her words, but that wasn’t what really was bothering Y/N. His presence bothered her, specially once his hand went over hers to pull the handle completely. - I would be grateful. 

 He opened the door completely, walking off and shutting it on the young woman. Almost out of memory, she locked the door and rushed over to her balcony to do the same thing. Y/N didn’t want to think about how he’d gotten in her bedroom, he clearly wasn’t in any of Sebastian’s favourite books and definitely not in Gwen’s. 

   - M’am? - her body trembled at the knock of the door but the voice soothed her. Thankfully, it was her bodyguard - It’s me, m’am. We can’t have the doors locked with you inside the room for safety measures.

   - I’m sorry. - Y/N’s hands shivered as she unlocked the door, opening it slightly to stare at the bodyguard. - I’m sorry, Elias. I was just not feeling very well. 

   - Oh, would you like me to notice Mr. Stan or Ms. Forrest?

   - No, it’s fine. It’s fine. - she gave him an understanding smile before closing the door again. Without much thought, she stripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower allowing the hot water to drip down her body. In his favour, she wasn’t in his favour. She was just his employee and his fiancée’s handmaid, meaning he shouldn’t really be rude to her.

It wasn’t like Y/N could just go on and tell him to go easy on one of his associates, she just couldn’t unless she wanted to be screamed at. Being screamed at is not something she really wanted but on the other hand, she didn’t want Gwen or Sebastian to shot him for no reason or for at least an unreasonable one. Besides, Mr. Williams looked scared. With that in her mind, she walked off the shower, putting on one of her sweater-like fabric dresses.

   - Y/N? - she hunched her shoulders, hand on top of her chest as the knocks reverberated within her room. God, why does everyone want to speak with her today?

   - Come in. - Sebastian came into the bedroom, back in his very business formal which somehow disappointed her. She definitely preferred the more relaxed style, at least on him. - Gwen is at the bar right now, if you’re looking for her. 

   - I own this hotel, angel. I know exactly where everyone is. I’m here because Elias told me you weren’t feeling well. - that little back stabber. - Was the shopping trip that bad?

   - I’m just a bit ... I think overwhelmed fits. 

   - Too overwhelmed for a surprise? 

   - I think I’ve had my fair share of surprises today, but I wouldn’t mind seeing what you have in store.

   - Well, c’mon then. - we checked his watch. - We have a few minutes.

She shrugged, getting up from the bed and following him into his bedroom, looking around to make sure Gwen wasn’t around to ask many questions. Her major issue was that her friend thought that she was feeding Sebastian information about her love life and maybe she would, if she remembered the last guy she was with. 

Sebastian pulled her until his balcony, setting her so that her sight laid on the sunset landscape and the Tower Eiffel. 

   - What am I looking at? - not that she didn’t love the sunset, she absolutely did, she just thought it wouldn’t be something Sebastian would be particular excited to show her. Not that he should be excited to show her anything. 

   - Just wait. - he checked his watch once again, ensuring her gaze didn’t leave the iron lady. As Y/N readied herself to ask him what he wanted her to see, the Tower Eiffel lit up and like the building so did her eyes as she gasped at the sight in front of her. If she thought the view from last night was stunning, she did absolutely thought this thing was merely out of this world. - It lights up at sunset. 

   - This is just beautiful. Thank you so much. - she wrapped her arms around him for a few seconds before returning to look at the lit up building. - Ugh, I could just live here forever.

   - You’re certainly easy to please. - he leaned against the railings, looking at her with the look of utter most adoration. How could someone in her field still enjoy the little things was always interesting. 

   - I ... I need to speak you. - she played with her nails, looking up to his eyes.

   - Should I be concerned?

   - It’s about Mr. Williams.

tag list: @sideeffectsofyou​ @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom​ 

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan au #mob!sebastian stan #mob boss!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan #mob boss AU

[redqueen-hypothesis]

tied together pt.2 ➳ mlqc

➳ WORD COUNT: 3359

➳ GENRE: fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: how would the mlqc boys (lucien, victor and shaw) propose?

➳ REMARKS: i seem to be obsessed with sleeping at last songs recently. they’re soothing to ears... these headcanons were inspired by heart. 

VICTOR

has been thinking about proposing for a long, long time

and by long, long time i mean, he’s been thinking about this ever since the two of you started dating

victor has a one track mind: dating, proposal, marriage. when he gets into a relationship with you, it’s all or nothing

the man might seem like he’s emotionally constipated - but he’s determined to make this relationship work, to officially join the two of you together for the rest of your lives

victor is a traditionalist romantic, he inherited that side from his mother. he’s big on romantic shows of affection and has the money to do it too, so he gets down to preparing something that will definitely blow you away

he’s brought up the idea of proposing before, wanting to wait until you’re as ready as he is about the idea of being together

when you give him positive answers, jokingly telling him that he’ll have to do all the cooking or you’d turn him down on the spot, he knows that it’s time to pop the question

gradually puts together a proposal plan after work each day, making arrangements and phone calls

goldman gets roped into helping overtime (give the poor man a raise)

aside from goldman, though, victor is determined to get this proposal down on his own: it’s his proposal, and he’ll do it with his own hands

personally goes to the florist to inspect each and every rose he’s buying (he’s buying them by the hundreds), trimming them of the thorns and bundling them into bouquets

he’s not fantastic with his hands, fumbles with the silk ribbons that seem to keep slipping through his fingers and some of the bouquets look just a little lopsided, but it’s the effort that counts for him

victor knows money can buy almost anything in the world, but he also knows more than anyone else what money can’t buy - your love, your devotion, your patience with him

finds himself reminiscing a lot about his memories with you, from the way you jammed your foot in his office door and shouted how you were going to get that funding no matter what to the way you shiver when he kisses you

gods, time works in some strange ways

you realise he’s been looking a little exhausted when you come to deliver the reports to his office, but victor waves it off, looking as put together as ever

goldman complains to you that he’s been staying up late doing extra work and that he should at least get a bonus, but victor drags him away before he can say another word

(he does get a bonus, but it’s more of hush money than anything. from then on goldman keeps his mouth faithfully shut)

one day after a work week, victor invites you to souvenir for dinner. it’s rare that he brings you there nowadays, because you’d rather just eat together in his house, but you’ve missed the place and mr mills

he sends you a dress to wear, a beautiful wine red affair that fits you like a second skin, and also a limousine to pick you up. no one but him is seeing you in that dress

you’re kind of stressed, because victor just dropped this on you out of nowhere and oh god is something big happening? the dress looks more like something you’d wear on the red carpet than a simple meal

you redo your make up five times before giving up

when you enter the limo, the chauffeur passes you a delicate jewelry box “with regards from mr li”. you open it to find a string of sparkling stones - no, those cannot be real... right?

when you think about your boyfriend though, no they’re quite definitely real

you put it on with shaking hands. victor has a penchant for giving you the strangest gifts, from a golden camel he’d found in a souvenir shop while visiting dubai to a glass jar of pink sand from the beaches of eleuthera just because you had mentioned wanting to visit in passing

but diamonds? you’re pretty sure you’ve seen this as a collector’s item somewhere... how much did they cost?

stepping into souvenir is like stepping into another world altogether - you’ve never seen it like this before

there are velvet roses decorating the small restaurant, in all manner of colour, wine red, champagne, white and pink, scented candles lighting up the room with their flickering glow

and standing in the middle of it all is victor dressed in a dark suit, holding a huge bouquet of red roses in his hands. when he sees you, his face softens ever so slightly, and he puts the flowers in your hands “here”

doesn’t so much as explain what they’re for, pulling out your chair for you. the two of you are the only ones here, and victor serves you himself

is it just you, or does the food somehow taste better than usual?

during the course of the entire dinner, however, victor looks like he wants to say something, but can’t quite open his mouth

he puts a pudding in front of you for desert, your favourite, but this time when you cut it in half with your spoon, there’s sound of metal on metal

you frown. surely victor wouldn’t have dropped one of his cuff-links inside? scooping it out, you find a single, silver band inside, a sparkling diamond resting on the top

you stare at it for a good few seconds without moving, unable to believe your eyes. you’re not hallucinating, right? that’s really a diamond ring there in the middle of your pudding?

you know it’s a proposal. you just can’t seem to shed the thickness in your throat that steals your voice, the way your hands are trembling too much to pick the ring up, the way you’re on the verge of bursting into tears

victor is a little flustered. he can’t see the ring from where he is since it’s still firmly lodged in the pudding. did you swallow it on accident?

he rises to his feet, picks up the ring (where it is, thankfully, still in the pudding and not halfway down your throat), and kneels next to where you’re seated

your eyes are wide with unshed tears, and suddenly he finds it difficult to speak

fuck, he had a speech written... he can’t remember a damn bit of it now

when he whispers your name, you look up at him with those beautiful eyes in stunned shock, and the words just tumble out.

“i know that i am not a perfect man, that sometimes we fight, and that there are times we disagree. i know all of that, but i also know that more than anything in the world, you’re the one i want to spend the rest of my life with.” words have never felt heavier on his tongue. “i love you, i really do. will you marry me?”

you’re still frozen, unable to wrap your head around this, victor is proposing to you. on the other hand, the poor man is starting to wonder if he’s given you a heart attack. “you don’t have to give me an answer right now, you can take some time to think over it more clearly. i know it’s an important decision to make, so-”

you practically knock him over with the force of your hug, squeezing him so tight to you victor almost feels like he can’t breathe

“yes.” you whisper into his ear, and he can feel your tears - warm tears of pure joy falling onto the bare skin of his neck. “yes, i’ll marry you, victor.”

ahh fuck. victor doesn’t know why he feels like crying too. he holds you tighter so you can’t see his face. “you’ll rip your dress like that, dummy.”

when the two of you finally get off the floor, he puts the ring on your finger, and you pull him in for such a fierce kiss that you almost knock him to the ground again

“dummy” he whispers again, and kisses you back just as hard

LUCIEN

surprisingly, just recently starting thinking about proposing

for him, the fact that you were already dating him was all the happiness he thought he deserved for everything he had done as ares

he knew that he had hurt you before, his betrayal, his involvement with black swan, and although he seemed perfectly fine on the outside, he would lie in bed, late at night and unable to sleep, thinking

“does a person like me really deserve such an ordinary happiness?”

everything had been about the evolution of mankind to him, survival of the fittest, leaving the weak behind

and yet nowadays when he sat on a park bench and partook in his usual hobby of people-watching, non-evolvers and evolvers alike, mingling without distinction and enjoying their time together, as friends, as family, as lovers, he couldn’t help but ache for that intangible something as well

love. a concept that had been so utterly foreign to him that he’d merely dismissed it as a survival mechanism humans had developed so that different people would take care of each other, increasing their chances of procreating and passing on their genes

until he had met you

he remembered something you had told him once

“if I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” it was love that made humans humane

he had dreamed so much about a future where only the best of humanity had survived, leading to a elite society of humans, but if they had to give up this love to get there, did that really make them human?

he pulled together the tiny fragments of memories he had of his parents. the way they had loved each other, the way they had loved him. the way you love him, even though there’s no logical explanation to why you would, even after all he’s done

tears slip silently down lucien’s cheeks on the park bench, alone, for the first time since that car accident when he was five

a young girl offers him a tissue, he smiles and thanks her, watching her scurry back to her family

so you were right all along, weren’t you?

when he confesses this to you one night, with your arms wrapped around his in bed, you look down at him with the most tender smile - so full of this love that he feels like he needs to look away, yet he can’t tear his eyes away from your face

“everyone deserves to be happy, lucien. and i want to be one of the reasons for your happiness, if you’ll let me.”

silly girl. you’re the reason he’s understood happiness in the first place

dating isn’t enough for him. he wants more, to be bound to you, heart, body and soul. he wants to become family, he wants to see you in a white dress. he wants to see his ring on your finger, your love belonging to him for the rest of your lives

he wants to give you the same love you’ve given him

“when two people come together in love, it grows.” you had told him gently, one day out on a date with him. “i want to make you happy because it makes me happy too.”

he’s watched plenty of romance novels in an attempt to replicate the human emotion of love, so he’s all too aware of how the sweetest of words slip out far too easily from his mouth

all those seem so trivial, so lackluster when it comes to expressing just how much he feels for you - it even scares him sometimes

proposals needs rings. that’s the easy part

but he wants to ask you in a way that means something deeper for the two of you

sometimes the old ghosts come back to haunt him and taunt, ‘look at how weak you’ve become, ares, what a fool.’ your arms and lips are there to chase the darkness away

it’s an emotional journey for the two of you

waits till it’s spring to do it

lucien invites you out on a date to a garden exhibition in the rural countryside

it’s a small, beautifully kept greenhouse (typically, it wouldn’t be open to the public, but lucien pulled a few strings with the owner)

when you step in, you’re stunned to see vibrant colours all around in this small, cozy greenhouse. beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe it

you’re already stunned enough until one of the petals flutter just a little before taking off into the air, it’s a butterfly!

your smile makes lucien smile

you run from bush to bush, from flower to flower, gushing to lucien about how beautiful they are - lucien thinks you’re far more beautiful, but just smiles and nods

“did you know that some butterflies only live for a few days after hatching?” he wonders aloud, and you turn back to see him watching two butterflies dancing together in the air. “and yet they’re still one of the most beautiful sights that nature can offer the world.”

you slip your hand into his. when he looks down at you, bemused, and you smile. “kind of like human lives, don’t you think?”

the two of you spend some time at the greenhouse before you leave, wandering along the some of the grassy fields outside. to your surprise, there’s a small stall selling handmade kites

lucien catches you looking at it, and asks if you want to fly kites. you remember your promise together, to fly kites in spring. he hasn’t forgotten it, not even once

you shout encouragement to lucien as he runs, pulling the kite along, and cheer as the purple butterfly kite soars up into the air on the stiff breeze

the two of you take turns keeping the kite in the air

doing this together makes you feel like everything is okay, as if lucien is telling you that he’s ready to put down his past as ares and move on to who he wants to be

you’re feeling just a tiny bit sad when you reel in the kite together, until you see the something shiny tied to the kite

curiously, you pull it free - and realise that it’s a ring

the gem on it is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, it looks white at first glance, but under the light it splits into a rainbow of colours

lucien speaks quietly as he slides it onto your finger. “at first, all i could see this world in was black and white. but the day when you came in my life... i saw colours for the first time. you taught me that this world was so much more than what i thought was right, helped me see the way others saw the world. you brought colour into my life.”

of course you cry. the way lucien speaks is in a way you’ve rarely heard him, his voice isn’t that smooth, composed tone you’re so used to hearing

it’s raw, emotional, and so real with you that you find yourself hanging onto every last word

“i know i don’t deserve you, or the love you give me, but can i be selfish enough to keep asking for it regardless?”

this silly man. why is he asking for it when he already has it all?

holding the kite between you, he kisses you so gently that you feel yourself unraveling under the near painful affection that you can feel from it - the end of one promise, and the forging of a new one together, one that you’ll keep for the rest of your life

SHAW

what’s marriage? is that something you eat?

shaw hasn’t thought about marriage since like... ever

he’s lived his entire life on the edge, playing with danger, coming and going like the thunder clouds before and after a storm

settling down has never been a concept he’s familiar with, but it’s one he finds himself thinking about after he started dating you

he’s kind of young for this, so he’s not sure if he’s ready to give up this flighty lifestyle - it’s all he’s known all his life

and yet, when you call for him, he’s there. when you need him for help, he appears. when you ask him to remain with you, he stays

isn’t that something similar to being chained down already? shaw wonders, but doesn’t quite understand why he doesn’t seem to mind

sometimes, he worries thinks about the fact that you’re getting older... don’t you think about settling down? didn’t one of your co-workers ask you out on a date a few days ago?

when he brings up this question with you one day, you think about it for a bit before nodding. for a second, a tiny bit of worry edges into his heart, but then you’re kissing him on the cheek gently. “whenever you’re ready.”

fuck. he’s never really cared about being a reliable person, he’s the only person who he’s had to take care of his entire life, but now he has you

he wants to be your rock. your anchor in the storm. your man.

when the fuck did he get so cheesy???

finds himself making tiny changes in his lifestyle that he wasn’t even aware of, waving away a cigarette when one of his bandmates offer him a stick, choosing to bring you out on late night dates instead of going drinking with some more uh... shady friends

starts taking on a part time job to earn extra cash (and counting his umbrellas so he stops losing them)

mayhaps he has something in mind that he wants to buy (something for you, but he’s not quite sure yet)

the necklace was an impulse purchase

he’d been skating down the streets, heading home from university one day when a pair of necklaces in the window of a shop catch his eye - they have matching charms, a small storm cloud and a sun

his first thought is: wow that’s so stupid

his second thought: you would look cute with it

he knows he’s whipped, but he’s never going to admit it

shaw finds himself buying it anyway, only to regret it immediately after

what the fuck is he doing

he chucks it somewhere into the mess of his apartment, only for it to resurface a few weeks later when you come over to bring back some clothes you’ve left over in his house

you find the jewelry box, and open it to find the necklaces

they don’t really look like shaw’s type. maybe there’s another girl wooing him?

when shaw sees you holding it he’s scrambling to explain, no it’s not a gift from a girl, it’s...

you look at him, confused. “it’s...?”

he doesn’t have much of a choice but to give it to you now. plucking out the silver chain of the sun necklace, he holds it out to you a little awkwardly

“it’s for you.”

you look into the box curiously. “but there’s another necklace...?”

he blurts out what’s been on his mind for a while

“they’re matching necklaces... for you and me.” he mumbles. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this embarrassed before. “to chase away any bastards who think they have a chance with my girl. damn, this is stupid, i’m going to throw this-”

you grab his hands before he can move, and suddenly you’re wearing the prettiest smile as you ask him, “well, aren’t you going to put it on me?”

chewing on his lower lip, he puts it around your neck. it takes him a few tries to get the clasp right

in return, you put the other necklace around him, kissing his neck and he swallows at the warmth of your mouth

maybe it’s a little too early to start thinking about marriage, but he knows you’ll wait for him, and that he’ll get there one day

“you belong to me now, alright? no one can take you away from me.”

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc lucien #mlqc victor #mlqc shaw #lucien #lucien xu #mr love lucien #lucien fanfic #shaw #mr love queen's choice shaw #victor li #mr love victor

[vestigiallegs]

And more specifics: 37 Sam, 22 Ike, 36 Ancha, 41 Mira, 14 Stranger, 1 Terry, 44 Chris

THIS IS A BIG ONE!!

37: Do people have justified grudges against your character?

Oh, certainly. Another way in which Sam is a Shrek recolor is that she is not merely unfairly maligned for circumstances out of her control, she also creates problems for herself and makes situations worse than they need to be.

There are a  few ways in which she contributes to this problem, in general:

1. If someone thinks she is scary and it annoys her enough she will lean into it, “for fun.”

2. She interprets a lot of conflict as fun and games because she is kind of a dick and she does just... enjoy fighting. Since she shrugs off this fighting as fun and games, she often misjudges how much her opponent might forgive because she’s using her own skewed metric as reference.

But those are general statements. You’re probably looking for specifics, and I’m afraid I must let you know I do not really have them at this time. Despite Sam having a variety pack of enemies, I’ve developed Sam’s relationships with the people SHE has grudges against (ie Lance, Page) more than I’ve developed the specifics for anyone who has a running grudge against HER. It’s more of a nebulous crowd of people whose toes she has trampled, some from her shitty younger days, some fresh new enemies...

(I do have one specific Person With A Justified Grudge On Sam that I keep contemplating but I’m not sure if he/she/they/??? will ever make it out of the development phase and become a real character/story element.)

22: What is the worst thing your character has ever done? 

My idea was that I was going to answer this disincluding things Isaac has done to himself because that’s a rock bottom that he keeps digging deeper, but even when he does bad stuff to other people it tends to be in tandem with bad things he is doing to himself...

Isaac has plenty capacity for being a dick, and spent a good portion of his life not considering other peoples’ feelings very hard. But, at the same time, he's naturally reserved and at the time where he was the most empathy deficit he also was in the habit of minding his own business. So he was more of a jerk in passing to people than out there doing real heinous shit...

I don’t want to say “cheating with Mira and everything that happened for years after is the worst thing he has ever done” because that feels like a cop out even if it’s probably technically true...

Lying to everyone with his “ah yeah, that’s me, Able-Bodied Man” LARP is bad but in the end he’s doing more damage to himself than anyone else with that one... not that the emotional damages it does to the people who care about him don’t matter because they do...

I guess he doesn’t have a whole lot of Big Worst Moments, just a long resume of being kind of a shithead, letting himself get worse by putting himself in the company of other shithead(s) and taking their shithead advice, and then course-correcting his behavior in a way that makes him also kind of a shithead in a different way.

36: Does anyone want to harm your character?

Oh, probably. Ancha is good at making enemies for a gentle pacifist.

In her youth, participating in politics games routinely earned her all manner of dangerous enemies. Of course, she’s long since outlived anyone who wanted to assassinate her, considering that she’s outlived politics and Atlantean society in general.

Considering there are other (undeveloped at this time) immortals out there, she probably still has SOME enemies...

At the very least, Lucas would probably take a shot at her if he thought he could get away with it!

41: Would your character want to have any children?

“No” with exceptions. Mira is not a nurturing person, nor does she particularly like children, and doesn’t put any value on ideas of “continuing the bloodline” or “making the next generation better” or anything like that. She doesn’t dream of having a family. She’s very much a career woman to the exclusion of other things in life. It’s an easy cut and dried “she shouldn’t raise children which is okay because she doesn’t want them anyway” situation until it isn’t.

You see, all logical reasoning points to “Mira doesn’t want and therefore wouldn’t have children,” but she’s also not immune to the allure of dramatic projections of the future. I could see her keeping an accidental pregnancy, or procreating on purpose if her partner framed it in a romantic, ego-buffing way.

The reality would remain unappealing to her though. Best case scenario she is one of those overbearing achievement hyper-focused parents who is extremely invested in and proud of their child’s talents and accomplishments but emotionally not there.

14: What is the cutest thing your character has ever done? 

You come to my own home and ask me to write a hit piece on my own character. How dare you.

I suppose Stranger’s #1 “cute” behavior is how they behave when they fail to find an excuse to hate someone or be rude to them. Stranger doesn’t need a big reason to dislike someone, and will often pick out little things to justify being a prickly son of a bitch. But there is a method to their misanthropy, a sort of equation/assessment they run in their head in order to determine that they are Right to be a bitter and rude in a given situation. Despite the fact that this assessment is extremely rigged, occasionally they run into someone they just cannot justify being an asshole to (example: Nikki).

When this happens, they have no choice but to try feign being normal despite the agony trying not to be a freak to people brings them. They make small talk like it’s actively killing them, hissed and grunted through gritted teeth.

It’s like aw. They’re trying. Not doing a good job, but trying.

1: What is your character's biggest fear? 

Terry doesn’t have a lot of big, conscious fears. If you asked him his biggest fear he’d probably say something like, Santa Claus, or a specific Five Nights At Freddy’s jumpscare, shit in that ballpark. He’s not terribly in touch with the concept of fear, same as he’s not super in touch with the concept of mortality.

He does worry about some things that are actually real, but not very deeply and not very often. None of those worries are centered on himself either, he’s confident that he can bounce back from anything and more or less sees himself as endlessly smart, talented, evasive of consequence, and unkillable. Instead he worries about things he knows to be more fragile than himself, like Nugget with her fragile avian bones and respiratory system, or Ike with his fragile human feelings.

44: What is your character proud of? 

Chris is not proud of much, and she undermines her few real accomplishments as incomplete or not counting. During her youth as an ELF WIZARD competing in the championship challenges, she was quite accomplished. She withdrew from the tournament, though, and never made it to her televised match. She’s got one of those “if you aren’t first you’re last” sort of attitudes, so as far as she’s concerned, it’s failure all the way down.

THAT SAID she can do a sweet kickflip. She’s proud of that. She has a SWEET GAMER COLLECTION of VIDEOGAME, and she’s proud of that. And she makes for a great, reliable mafia goon! She’s really proud of that one.

#answered ask #sam #ike #ancha #mira #stranger #terry #chris

[jonismitchell]

hey arden do you have any book suggestions? i don’t have any preference/specific genre i’m looking for but i just need something new to read while in quarantine :)

you’re in luck! i happen to be a massive nerd and i’m going to compile a gigantic list of recs for you. here we go.

the only classics worth reading: i want to preface this by saying i did not pick these books because they are written by women. they are just good and they happen to be by women. this reinforces my theory that only women can write.

emma by jane austen: better than pride and prejudice by a long shot. the characters are funny, the romance is swoon worthy (don’t think too hard about the age gap), it says very smart things about society, and i could write an essay on how it revolutionized fiction.

wuthering heights by emily bronte: my all time favourite book about how awful people are and how the cycle of abuse perpetuates itself. it’s absolutely exceptional in every respect. i won’t go into too much detail because i don’t want to give anything away, but you should definitely read this book.

jane eyre by charlotte bronte: i’m not saying i’m a bronte sister stan, i’m just saying i’m a bronte sister stan who can’t be bothered to take five seconds to copy the accent. anyway, i read this book when i was a wee lass and i stole it from an apartment in nice. the characters are genuinely amazing, and it’s an early feminist book, which i think is fantastic.

the handmaid’s tale by margaret atwood: you don’t get more feminist classic than this. set in a dystopian future where women are only valued for their ability to procreate, atwood examines gender roles and still delivers a brilliant adventure story. if you end up liking this, try the power by naomi alderman, which essentially tells of the opposite society.

the bell jar by sylvia plath: an introspective story about mental illness. it’s the type of writing that i feel hits hard at about any age, and i remember feeling really haunted after finishing the whole thing in a night. definitely high up on my list of amazing novels.

feel good books: sometimes, we need to read something that’s not revolutionary but still radical. don’t worry, i got you. here’s the lasagna of novels.

finding audrey by sophie kinsella: this book is funny, heartwarming, and makes you think. as someone with anxiety, i felt really represented by a lot of audrey’s behaviours. her mom is lowkey nuts, but i feel like that shouldn’t impede your enjoyment of the book.

the shadowhunters series by cassandra clare: LISTEN. objectively cassandra clare is a terrible person. objectively these books are not good. but they are amusing! they are comforting! they are interesting! also, there are a million of them. start with the infernal devices: clockwork angel, clockwork prince, and clockwork princess. set in old old london, this series features the only valid love triangle ever, girls who like to read and kick ass, and boys who are soft and play the violin. next, head to the mortal instruments, which is pretty much drinny fanfiction. don’t think too hard during these and you’ll have a good time. after that, read the short story collections the bane chronicles and tales of shadowhunter academy. if you got really into the lore (like me) these books are funny and a little captivating. finally, get to the highlight of this whole thing, the dark artifices. the one true love of my life, emma carstairs, stars in this brilliant trilogy about forbidden love. yes, it’s super corny, but all these books are super corny. if you can’t get enough of the universe (or accidentally got hooked) try out the collection ghosts of the shadow market. once you finish that, you can read the first books in the new series(es), red scrolls of magic and chain of gold. all of these books are jam packed with magic and vaguely plagarized demons. not brilliant, but a fun ride.

emma mills books: emma mills writes cute happy contemporary romances and i can’t recommend her enough! first & then tells the story of a jane austen obsessed nerd who crushes on a jock. which could actually be about me, and if you trust my judgement, you probably like me enough to read this book secretly written about me. foolish hearts gives theatre kids and boy band stans alike a chance to feel represented in what could be one of the sweetest (and funniest!) romances of all time. famous in a small town gives band kids and people who are clarinet-sized a chance to shine, and includes a country singer who struck me with her similarities to taylor swift. (our song is even referenced in the novel!) by far my favourite would have to be this adventure ends, which is hilarious and heartbreaking and talks about fanfiction without looking down on it. all of these books are definitely feel good and will make you believe in heterosexual romance.

mildly upsetting fantasy: just fantasy trilogies that will hurt you.

the poppy war by r.f. kuang: wonder what harry potter would be like if the magic system was complicated and the murder was high? no, like high on opium? and the plot was based on chinese military history? look no further than the brilliant work of art that is the poppy war. this book is by far the best fantasy out there, i cannot exaggerate that enough. also out is the equally compelling sequel the dragon republic, and the final book in the trilogy is set to hit shelves this year. please please please read this amazing book.

six of crows by leigh bardugo: six dysfunctional criminals try to steal from the most heavily guarded prison in the world. what could go wrong? this novel is intelligent and witty, and will keep you on the edge of your seat as you’re dragged into this scheming and brilliant world. in my opinion, this is the only valid book in the grishaverse. this and its equally well plotted sequel, crooked kingdom.

the gilded wolves by roshani choski: this one is definitely similar to six of crows in its funny and smart main cast. the magic system is super unique and the plot is endlessly enjoyable. it’s also set in old old paris! so france is always fun. there are also tons of mythology references and disaster bisexuals. and apparently the sequel (the silvered serpents) comes out july of this year.

scythe by neal shusterman: the first book on this list by a man, wow! i’m so inclusive. anyway, this genius trilogy is set in a world where humanity has solved almost every single problem, except overpopulation and corruption. an elite order called scythes are tasked with killing and managing the order of death. it’s like the hunger games went took a political science seminar. everything spirals out of control very quickly and the characters are so great. the sequels are called thunderhead and the toll respectively, and the overarching tale is gripping.

the cruel prince by holly black: i’m not kidding when i say this is the only faery book that matters. this book stars a human girl who grows up in the magical world and more violence than is statistically necessary. but it’s good! this is also a trilogy (every book on this list is the first one in a trilogy, i am the worst, i’m sorry) and the sequel the wicked king is quite possibly the best scheme-y magic politics thing i’ve ever read. and the final book, queen of nothing, doesn’t disappoint by a long shot.

contemporaries no one talks about

the boy who steals houses by cg drews: this book has autistic representation! and it’s written by book blogger paperfury, who is even more of a delight on the page than she is on the internet. be warned, this book includes heavy mentions of abuse and graphic violence that are unavoidable. but it will break your heart and stitch it back together again. also, waffles.

some boys by patty blount: this book deals very candidly with the aftermath of rape and public pressure. it is also one of my favourite books of all time for its treatment of ‘bro culture.’ and the heroine, grace, is incredibly strong. i read this book in maybe fourth grade? and it essentially inspired me to start giving a damn about social justice. so yeah, there’s that. (i also haven’t read it since fourth grade, so someone will have to tell me if it holds up).

emergency contact by mary choi: i’m rereading this for the second time right now and it’s still really awesome. it tells the story of an unlikely friendship, big dreams, and does it all through a really interesting narrative voice that manages to effectively capture two very different people. it is yet another romance, but it’s really wonderful and heartwarming. (unlike the other two books in this section).

children’s books that treat kids like people

a series of unfortunate events by lemony snicket: this is quite literally my favourite series of all time. it’s upsetting and kind of wrong once you think about it a lot, but it’s also maybe the best thing ever written. i literally cannot explain how much i love these books. there are thirteen books, so you’re definitely in for a good, long time.  

the mysterious benedict society by trenton lee stewart: three books about propaganda and smart kids and found family. i literally do not know what else you want out of a series. it’s fun and there’s only a little bit of kidnapping, so it’s very family appropriate compared to the other books on this list.

wuh luh wuh

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid: i KNOW no one shuts up about this book but you really should read it. like, there’s nothing that will ever top the narrative. the drama, the glamour, the girls who love girls, you know? all the components of a brilliant novel. it’s also got some truly poetic prose and genuinely beautiful moments. the reason everyone talks about this book is because it’s amazing. send tweet.

girls of paper and fire by natasha ngan:  (massive trigger warning for sexual violence)  haha! another violent fantasy book that’s part of a trilogy! thought you escaped that, didn’t you? this magic system is brilliant and the book is so good. it’s a breath of fresh air into young adult fiction. and did i mention it’s a wlw romance? i read this during a math class and had to go to the bathroom to cry when i finished it, because there was finally a heroine in a fantasy novel who i could see myself in. there’s also a sequel, girls of storm and shadow, that is equally amazing.

it’s not like it’s a secret by misa suigura: wlw girls with soft poetry vibes. complicated family lives. candidly dealing with racism, sexism, and homophobia. this book is really good. simply read this book.

i have even MORE book recs but i decided to cut myself off because this is the longest thing i’ve ever written for tumblr. hope you enjoy!

#angxlsrolltheireyes #book recs #asking with you

[loadedtoast]

36/F/NZ

I have grown weary of social media as of late. The kind of social media where everyone has an opinion regardless of its impact on others, where people can type things they wouldn’t say in person and perpetuate misinformation (I am pro-vaccination). I am also growing tired of the (barely) subliminal messaging I receive about diets and body image that troll my feeds.

But I am a social creature by my very nature. Aren’t we all?

My first blog title is a nod to my ASL (age, sex and location). It’s an ‘early internet thing’.

If you are my age, you will recall (hopefully) the advent of ICQ and MSN… The patience of waiting for dial up to connect – god forbid someone else was on the landline – after school so that you could connect with friends, strangers, potential cuties… The potential cuties however were (and still are) not always what they appear to be.

But I am not here to blog about dating. Or house prices. Or global warming, avocados or other woes facing the younger generations – am I still young?

I never thought I would say this. I want to talk about having kids.

I will declare upfront that I want for nothing. I am a reasonably successful, professional woman without kids. I own my own home (or at least half of it). I live a city lifestyle, am fit, healthy and have a wonderfully loving and respectful partner (you know, one of the types of guys that speaks up and isn’t threatened by independent and successful women) - A rarity for which I cherish more than the rest of the stuff I list above. I am sure I will write about it at some point, but he is the product of a single mother doing a fucking incredible job in the most challenging of circumstances. Hats off to her!

As I was saying. I want to talk about kids.

I have never wanted them. And now we (not I. We) want to dip our toes into the pool that an increasing number of 30-somethings decide to jump into …

I am grappling with so many things. Things that are unique to us females.

I spent my teenage years being actively taught more about how to cook, clean and be a good girlfriend than I did about my own body – stuff I am learning now in retrospect (also a probable, future blog). I went onto the pill as soon as I got my period. It was a ‘precaution’ (for whom?). I learned about my vagina because I suddenly needed to put something inside it (not for pleasure) to stop my monthly bleeding from causing me more shame than I already felt – because periods are a woman’s burden to be carried in secrecy, and to be joked about by guys when the emotions get the better of us… “on the rag?” “must be that time of the month…”.

I am now 36 and just starting to become woke (as the kids say it now).

My teenage years, I imagine, were not unique. I recall one sex ed class at high school (yes, just one hour) where we learned about sex leading to STIs (previously called STDs) and pregnancy. Pregnancy was the devil and needed to be prevented at all costs (health, time and concern - which the female generally absorbed).

We skipped the bit about consent, respect and two-way intimacy – I found out about those by trial and error.

I got through to my mid-20s and the rhetoric changed. Instead of those I looked to telling me babies were bad, suddenly, babies were all the rage. I had come out of university with my two degrees, ready for that promised career, and to travel and build the life I wanted.

I felt confused.

Now, I was never the ‘maternal type’. I wonder now if there is such a thing or if its just something that we are carefully manicured into thinking that it’s what we want all along. I never wanted baby dolls and prams as play toys. I wasn’t into pink and pretend kitchens. Instead, as a kid, I was into sports, horses and motorbikes. I climbed trees and played games that used my creativity and imagination.

So, when I reached my mid-20s and people started to ask me about when I wanted to ‘settle down and have kids’ I rejected the entire notion of it. I said I didn’t want kids. In fact, I was well known amongst my peers for saying I didn’t even like kids. Which to a point is true. I don’t like ALL kids. Some kids will not grow into good adults and I place the responsibility for that on nurture not nature. This may be controversial; however I wish to believe that we are all born into this world with the potential for good.

New-born babies were thrust into my arms, because you know, I will need practice… How come boys don’t have to hold babies? I felt awkward. Like I was rejecting something that I was ‘born and bred to do’. But I didn’t want it. Not then.

When I told people I didn’t want kids, they were shocked. Kind of like the shocked face of people when I tell them I don’t drink alcohol anymore – you know, culturally unacceptable behaviour by any Kiwi’s standards. This was quickly followed by, “Oh, you will want them one day… it will all change. Trust me”.

Patronizing much?

I can now say that I felt harassed in those moments. Let’s label it.

The questions and opinions I would get were unnecessary, unprovoked and unhelpful. I honestly wondered why everyone was so invested in my interest in procreating – more so than being interested in me as a person with my own wants and needs. I guess this was part of my training for being a mum. A call out to all the mums who work tirelessly – yes, work (you have a job and it’s the hardest job of all).

I stayed the course and purchased my own home, got a great job that I worked hard for (don’t we all work extra hard, ladies!) and I prepared myself for a life with no legacy (legacy, I learned from those closest to me, is achieved though children, not a career, when you are a woman).

And then I met this guy.

He wanted kids. I kept true to my long-held comms line (like the ‘no comment’) and said I didn’t. And then he did something that I will never forget…

He said it was my choice. My choice.

He asked me why I had made that choice – his right to do after disarming me. I said, without thinking, and for the very first time… “I’m scared”. Shit, no backing out of it now…

I was scared because alongside all of the rhetoric that is forced down our faces about motherhood were the truths. The home truths. The ones I had witnessed in person. I had seen and heard, that taught me all about the value of a woman when she becomes a mum.

Now – disclaimer – I am not saying that I never seen or heard good things about being a mum. But hell, I did see and hear more average things than good things.

I saw and heard about how all the females in my immediate sphere of trust had given their careers up (in the current trajectory that they were on or entirely) when they became mums. If they didn’t choose being a mum, they were falling short of society’s expectations. If they became a mum and chose a career over full time parenthood, they were ‘outsourcing’ their most important role - as a mum.

I saw and heard my mum take the lion’s share of parenting, putting herself last. I saw and heard her play the part of mum and dad while my dad built his career – for us. The career that was really for him – let’s be true, it was his dream he was pursuing, not mine and not hers. I saw and heard her be proud of others but not of herself. I saw and heard her cry, a lot.

FYI I am very proud of my dad and I love him to bits. He is human. So is my mum. They made choices, together, in parenting us, but those choices were not made by people with equal power in the relationship and subsequently the choices did not always (actually, very rarely) benefit mum as a whole person.

I saw and heard my mum find ways to make herself feel better. She was good at buying things she did not need or want.

I saw and heard my mum largely unsupported, doing a thankless job. A job that society places no tangible value on. If you become a mum, and take time out of the workforce (i.e. you leave your job) to raise a child, you are considered unemployed (i.e. you are negatively placed on the ‘books’ aka GDP – not an investment, not a value-add activity, but a cost – you know, that the Government carries).

Funnily enough, ‘unpaid work’ of which parenting falls into, is the single largest sector of our economy but it is unpaid and therefore under-valued. Mums and dads who parent, are not seen as contributing to the nation’s economy. Where does our future workforce come from again?

And then once my last sibling left home, so did my dad. My mum was alone.

Due to her lack of ‘work history’ she could not apply for a credit card – dad could. Mum oversaw the family business finances and ensured we were looked after but did not ‘take home a wage’. Dad did. So, as usual, mum missed out and just kept on missing out. I can’t help but feel incredibly shit for mum. For all women.

These things shape my views on becoming a mother.

As do my own personal experiences.

As bad as this sounds, mum made sure I was better off. I got an education; a good career and I was raised to be independent and to ‘hold my own’. Funnily enough, I don’t recall ever ‘learning’ to hold my own. It wasn’t a session at school, or a mother-daughter discussion. It wasn’t a workshop or a coaching session at work.

Sarah Everard.

I have been following, as many women are, Sarah’s story in the news right now. Well, I correct myself – it’s not her story. It’s the story of her demise, chosen by a man she did not know or chose to know. There is an international groundswell of rage erupting from women around the right to be safe.

I saw an article written about this, and I thought, “shit, me too” (excuse the pun). A woman had put words to all of the ways in which we just know how to ‘hold our own’… the keys between the fingers when walking to the car late at night, the text to a friend “text me when you get home”, the pretending to be on a phone call, or the running without music to keep vigilant and at the ready. And the worst… Literally having an escape plan in your head as you walk down a dark street, or past a pack of guys.

This is an everyday experience of practically all women. Everywhere. I don’t know how we know it; we just do. But we shouldn’t have to.

These things are relevant and ever-present when I think about and talk about motherhood. It is ingrained in me, and has been from a young age, to be prepared for the worst, to take personal responsibility for what could happen to me, and to be prepared for things that men don’t have to worry about (it’s not their responsibility after all).

The reality is that my partner and I bring a completely different world view into a conversation about having kids together. How could it not be?

I am honest with him. I am scared. I have so much to lose – things that I have fought so hard for. On balance, I know there are gains, but one tends to focus on the things familiar and previously experienced.

I have a career built on proving myself. I once spent three months (I was an HR Manager and not a shit one) negotiating with my male boss for a salary increase to be on par with my all-male leadership team colleagues, whose roles were not as large as mine. I had to prove why I ‘deserved it’. I got it in the end. And my male colleagues successfully argued for their salary increases directly afterwards as well… sigh.

I am scared because I don’t want to lose my career. I don’t want to fall behind, and I know I will.

While I have children, my peers will continue to work, earn money, earn Kiwisaver for their retirement (and therefore increase the interest accrued), be rewarded and promoted (and increase their salary)… I will not accrue any leave. I will not get a salary increase or increase my retirement savings. I will not get promoted.

I will more than likely come back to work part time, because my partner and I will make choices and my job is the more flexible of the two. I will start earning again – but less. I will increase my Kiwisaver and get rewarded again – but at a pro-rated rate. I will probably work just as hard squeezing a full time job into fewer days for less money, while also trying to be a mum (also a 1 FTE job).

I worked it out. Furthermore, I will be reducing my in-the-hand income while on maternity leave by 82% while receiving the Government’s maximum paid maternity leave allowance (while I can).

I work extremely hard, but I am privileged. I can see why mums feel torn. I can see why there are massive impacts down the line for gender equity. And I can also see how we have missed a beat here around putting families and children first in NZ and our stats show this… Check out our OECD education stats, our wellbeing stats, our child welfare stats etc… Having working mums is not the issue. It’s the lack of choice driven by negative financial outcomes that makes being a full-time mum the poorer choice (pun intended).

I am scared because I may find it too hard. I am 36. My energy is not what it was. I hear new mums don’t get much sleep. I currently work between 50-80 hours a week. I am not sure how to do both, well. But I am unsure how to be happy, just doing one of these things.

I am scared because I may change. I will have a new focus – this could be amazing, it could also be hard. My friends are career focused. Not baby focused. Will we still have the same relationships? Will I become boring? Will we have the energy to go away with friends on weekends? Who will babysit?

I am scared because my body will change. My body is 36. I look after it. I exercise and eat well. I am not ready to look at myself in a mirror and feel mournful antipathy. Ouch. I know. Women are great at self-loathing and body-shaming ourselves. We learn it from the media. And men. And sadly, also from other women.

I don’t have many friends who don’t hate some or all of their bodies. We are told and shown what we should look like – and men are also shown what we should look like. Porn has its place, but it is not real. Unfortunately, these images require personal trainers, personal chefs, fake tans, implants, botox, fillers, makeup, hairdressers etc… Women don’t get paid as much as men. It is expensive being a woman.

Babies can mean stretch marks, fat that doesn’t go away, sags and hormone driven changes that you cannot explain. It impacts your pelvic floor.

I have heard from other women these things negatively impact on intimacy in the bedroom. How could it not if you are feeling like your body has been replaced with one you don’t know how to rock? And if we don’t rock our bodies, how will our men get off on it?

I am scared that my relationship with my partner will become secondary to the needs of our child… and our individual needs to sleep and have ‘me time’. Our relationship is strong. It is built on respect, communication and trust. I know this after years of relationships where these things were in part or fully absent.

Are helicopter mums born that way or does a switch flick when they have kids?

I want my relationship with my partner to be #1, always. Of course, it is our choosing to make it so. However, I also know what it’s like to put in effort when you’re both tired. Our relationship functions now around shifts, commutes and long work hours. We have it sorted. Add a child and less sleep into the mix and I honestly don’t know how people do it.

We are best friends who talk a lot. So, I hope that’s enough.

I am scared because I don’t want to fail. I am a high achiever. A child is something you don’t want to fuck up. I haven’t done it before and yet I have no interest in having all of the women in my life (or as I have heard, also those not in your life) tell me how to do it. Advice on ‘breast is best’ is unwelcome, Karen… I see and hear how women are given advice. Often entwined with judgement. I then also see and hear men get praised for ‘doing it alone’.

I am scared because after all of this time, if I choose the title ‘mum’ over all else, what if I cannot even become one? This is a real fear and nothing is a give-in. Wanting it, does not make it so.

I am scared because I don’t want to find myself alone at the end of it. This scares me the most. I have seen how the most important woman in my life sacrificed everything and then when it was her turn, it turned out she was the sacrifice.

...

When I write this, the Devil’s advocate voice plays out in my head. “Oh, she is a feminist”, “she is just insecure” “is she really thinking of starting a family with a partner if she thinks he will leave her?”, “she’s a but angry – old chip on the shoulder”.

I am secure in myself. I have done stints in therapy – it’s a gym membership for the soul. I am liberal, yes. And a feminist – name a sound-minded female who isn’t pissed off about the additional hurdles in her lane on the track. My partner and I are solid, or we wouldn’t be talking about having children – talking is what adults do in a healthy relationship.

I am scared. In a way, it is healthy. If I was going into it thinking “I have this nailed” then I am probably delusional, naïve or just plain arrogant.

I am writing this because it is cathartic. It is a way to express the things I feel. And to share them as I expect so many other women (and men – yes, two men can have babies together too) feel.

#mum #parenting #newmum #career #firsttimemum #startingafamily

[shilparays]

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Shilpa Ray’s Heteronormative Horseshit Blues by Amarantha da Cruz

Musician and rebel Shilpa Ray released her hauntingly beautiful Dream Pop ballad single, “Heteronormative Horseshit Blues”, back in October, accompanied by an equally pleasurably dark music video where Shilpa plays two roles: the submissive love-stricken girl, as well as the object of her affection, a 1950s-type bad boy. The video was directed by OG and legendary New York punk filmmaker Amos Poe, who also directed the video for Ray’s track “Manic Pixie Dream Cunt”. “Heteronormative Horseshit Blues” was inspired by an abusive relationship the musician experienced in her 20s. Her distant, dreamy voice and song arrangement evokes a nostalgic feel, reminiscent of Mazzy Star’s beloved “Fade Into You”, but the the comparison ends there, with Ray’s politically-charged feminist message, a sharp contrast to Mazzy’s atypical love song. Ray’s spirit is also more aggressive, even when playing the role of damsel in distress.

In celebration of our Volume 3 sex issue, Shilpa discussed what sex means to her, the bullshit that still goes on in the music industry, what she’s listening to during this Covid business, and more.

Our 3rd volume is about how women individually define and interpret the subject of sex, and how that differs from the standard patricarchal lense.  We received a wide range of answers from women of all ages and backgrounds. What is your definition of sex?

I think sex and sexuality is something that humans don’t know jack shit about. That’s why we’re still in this mess. I remember watching an interview with Jane Wayne County where she explained why the glam rock movement didn’t survive the early 70s, and that we are more comfortable consuming horror and death then we are with understanding human sexuality. She was right about this and her words stuck with me. We haven’t come that far in understanding sex beyond procreation or sin and the 70’s happened 50yrs ago.

Since the October release of your new single, you’ve said in a few interviews, “I wrote this song from my experiences of being stuck in an abusive relationship during my mid to late 20s, only to come to the realization that the non abusive ones weren’t that much better in terms of power dynamics and conforming gender roles.” What is your approach these days in relationships, when you are confronted with gender related power struggles. Has anything changed?

I’m going through a time in my life where I’m completely disengaged and it’s been great! I can’t predict the future, but I’m really enjoying being alone, working on stuff, going about my day and being in my own world. In a way I’ve always been like that. Sometimes I’ll give in, be an upstanding hetero or whatever but it’s never been fun. It’s a societal pressure, something for friends to gab about, like I accomplished a major feat. How to bag a man and keep him too! Top 10 Tips. No Thanks. Not for me.

Do you think the new non-binary movement is something that’s here to stay and help society evolve – moving away from our mostly heteronormative and gender stereotype world view?

Absolutely! It’s proof that we run in a spectrum, perhaps something even more abstract than a spectrum. Everyone has different desires and needs. Everyone has the right to have their own relationship and ideas about their bodies, and gender identities. Although, I’m cis gender and biologically straight, I’ve been waiting for this movement since I was kicking and screaming at a K-mart the day my mom felt I needed a training bra.

I read that you began releasing music in 2006. In your opinion, how has the musical landscape changed since then?

It’s changed a lot. It’s becoming more diverse now and I’m happy about it. If only the industry can catch up to that. Unfortunately the ones who hold the money and authority that goes with it are still white men.

Have you come across any bullshit as a woman in the well-known male dominated music industry?

Too much bullshit! I’d like less bullshit please.

What is your advice to young female artists who have to navigate the music industry and the sexism they might face within it?

I love how vocal young women are about calling this out! They don’t need advice from me. I need advice from them.

What were some of your biggest music influences growing up, and are there any current artists right now that you’re listening to?

VU was a big one for me growing up. A band that made their listeners want to make their own music is a really powerful thing. Listening to music during Covid has been fun cause it’s all about having a safety blanket and feeling good. So I’ve been listening to everything from Bollywood to Black Sabbath.

Your music video has a major David Lynch vibe. Do you have any favorite directors, or directors you’d like to work with in the future?

Well the fact that I got to work with Amos Poe on the Manic Pixie Dream Cunt and Heternormative Horseshit Blues videos was a dream come true! As far as the future goes, like I said before, I can’t predict the future.

Photo credit: Ebru Yildiz

© OYE DRUM 2020 | WEB DESIGN: WE DREAM DESIGN

[chicagoindiecritics]

New Written Review from Mike Crowley on You’ll Probably Agree: 10 Reasons Why ‘Blade Runner 2049’ is better than ‘Blade Runner’

If you haven’t’ seen the movie, see it then read this. No intro, let’s jump right in.

1. K is a replicant

The reveal of K’s genetic code, or lack thereof, flips everything we assume the movie will be on its head. We are learning along with K what it means to exist. Do we as humans, live like replicants? Do we obey a society that treats us like trash but breath anyways out of the fear of death? Where we viewed “Blade Runner” mostly through Deckard’s eyes who didn’t have much of a personality, K’s lack of a character is his entire purpose for existing. For K to emote is to face death.

Where Harrison Ford’s Deckard entire arc was us questioning if he’s human or not (despite what Ridley Scott unequivocally says), there’s nothing much of substance to Officer Deckard. He gets drunk, retires replicants, that’s it. Name one thing that makes Deckard standout? I’ll wait. Ryan Gosling’s Officer K goes from a machine that is dying spiritually on the inside to someone wanting to have a purpose in life. All while maintaining his composure, if perhaps too much poise for the film. Anything with a conscious can feel. Whether or not how it was made is as relevant as where you were born or what skin color you are. The importance is that you’re here.

K doesn’t seek gratitude nor affirmation. He doesn’t suffer from a narcissistic personality. All he wants is not just to be another useless piece of metal.

2. Deckard has depth this time

Being a daddy changes you a lot. Rick isn’t just a slouchy drunk who likes to shoot robots out of legal obligation. He’s a man who’s principles and love for forbidden things cost him his life. What kind of soul did Deckard have in the first film? Who did he care for? Please don’t say, Rachel, we all know why he was attracted to Rachel. Like Winston in 1984, Deckard rejects Big Brother for a life of pain to gain a glimmer of happiness. 

3. It’s horrifyingly relevant

Denis Villeneuve based the imagery in 2049 on a planet that has become degraded with pollution. The buildings are extrapolating enormous amounts of water into the atmosphere, the sea wall at the end of the picture will be our new Mount Rushmore, the orange Vegas is happening now. Denis Villeneuve didn’t predict the earth looking like this, but his production team was still spot on. A picture that transcends its very style, developing a look that will be discussed on its merits separate from the ubiquitous original, is a stunning achievement.

Everything isn’t dystopian because that’s the way it was in the book. It’s what will happen to us in real life, why we’d look for colonies to live on if we had the technology or funding towards NASA to do so. God help us all.

4. The love story questions the essence of relationships

The story between K and Joi further examines the meaning of love, sex, and mortality, with the two being different versions of artificiality. When the default sexed-up version of a naked Joy pops up on the screen, we are emotionally mortified. Some of us may be repulsed to observe a character we care for utilized like a thirsty Godzilla.

The towering ad tries to seduce K tempting him to buy it, rendering everything Joi said to K throughout the picture questionable. Its manipulation solidifies his final decision in life to help another man. We’re not sure if she loved him or said what it thought it wanted him to hear throughout the narrative. Possibly Joi herself didn’t know her intentions. An unusual amount of nuance and uncertainty rests in the love story. Who do we love? Why do we love? Do we love by the heart or the heart of our designers whom we don’t know?

Meanwhile, Deckard was just drunk and horny when he bashed Rachel up against the wall. Sorry, that really was all there was to their passion despite what Wallace says.

5. The movie was an honest commentary about how the world views woman

Here’s a controversial one. A lot of women were disgusted by the way they were depicted in the film. Outwardly watching the movie, I can’t blame them. I’ll let Mr. Villeneuve speak for himself. “I am very sensitive to how I portray women in movies. This is my ninth feature film and six of them have women in the lead role. The first Blade Runner was quite rough on the women, something about the film noir aesthetic. But I tried to bring depth to all the characters. For Joi, the holographic character, you see how she evolves. It’s interesting, I think. What is cinema? Cinema is a mirror on society. Blade Runner is not about tomorrow; it’s about today. And I’m sorry, but the world is not kind on women.”

Villeneuve is right. Women today are still sexualized. Even with the Me Too movement, women are continually seen as sex objects or subservient slaves in a male-dominated society. Villeneuve isn’t interested in painting a rosy picture that Hollywood does for female roles to make the audiences feel comfortable. It’s an honest reflection on who we are. What we see is what we don’t want to see, but that’s part of the honesty of cinema.

6. The score is mesmerizing

Another point in which I may face some contention. Yes, Vangelis’ score is iconic, but it only works for the era it was composed in. Much of its mixture of bleeps, blops, and wind chimes are a product of its time. A lot of emotion is missing from the score other than the opening theme and “Tears In Rain.” Hearing much of the soundtrack while on the road, I sometimes thought I was listening to something from a porno. Take a listen to “Wait For Me” in the soundtrack and tell me otherwise. Hans Zimmer and Benjamin Walfisch’s score is timeless while also paying respect to Vangelis’ synthetic use in the original. It dives into the character’s mind providing a replication of something more human than what Vangelis composed.

7. It thematically ties more directly to “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep” than “Blade Runner” does.

“Blade Runner” got the overall gist of Phillip K Dick’s novel. Replicants are scared, trying to find a way to survive as Deckard hunts them down. However, the Andies in the movie almost deserve to die. In their quest for more life, they torture and kill multiple civilians. What did the guy making the eyes do to deserve being frozen to death? What about J.R. Sebastian? He was nothing but pleasant to Roy and Pris. Did Roy eye gauge him when he was done with Tyrell?

Aside from Luv (Sylvia Hoeks), our replicants are fully rounded people. Sapper Morton is a watchful protector who was meant to be a NEXUS 8 combat medic; Joi’s true intentions come into question for herself and us. K’s inner conflict is the central core of the story. All of this revolves around the meaning of existence within a world that has forgotten about you. The introduction of Robo procreation is an evolution of Dick’s ideas, widening his notion of why life exists in the first place.

8. It doesn’t get lost in the scale

Many sequels love scope over characters. Remember “The Matrix”? Remember how they talked about Zion and all these other things we didn’t see? When the sequels brought in Zion, the focus got lost in the spectacle. “The Matrix Reloaded” was a bumbling CGI mess of Agent Smith Clones and cave orgies. “The Matrix Revolutions” was a glorified “Space Invaders” game. Shoot as many sentinels as you can before becoming overwhelmed. Amidst the sequels bumbling chaos, I missed the smaller scale of the Nebuchadnezzar crew.

The story of “2049” could have focused on the replicant uprising with thousands of robots slamming into humans. We could have gone off-world to finally see what all these other colonies we’ve heard about are like. Some have argued that the movie could have borrowed some of its source material from the later novels about replicants creating humans, so on and so forth. All of that sounds incredible in theory. In execution, you would likely get “The Matrix” sequels.

A movie that overreaches in scope, attempting to please fans by showing everything. What we got was an incredibly meaningful story that further explores the themes of the original while building upon its world without going too far. We see what’s beyond L.A. on the dilapidated west coast. The answer is not much. The film aims at minimalism over extravaganza.

9. We’re still talking about it

After being MIA for decades, “Blade Runner 2049” isn’t forgotten. I can’t say the same for “Superman Returns,” “Monsters University,” “The Incredibles 2,” “Live Free or Die Hard,” and “Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of The Crystal Skull.” In fairness, people do talk about Indy 4, but not in a positive fashion. “Blade Runner 2049” returned to the limelight with disastrous box office results yet high accolades, even gaining the Academy’s attention. Ironically it seemed destined to live the life of its predecessor.

“2049” may have tanked because it was a multimillion-dollar art film that respected its audience’s intelligence. Maybe “Blade Runner” was too far gone amongst the public to gain an interest geared almost entirely towards comic books and Disney. I think the trailers after the reveal teaser looked too generic for my own two cents, turning me off from the film for a short while.

Here we are with Honest Trailers in 2020, making a video about a film that came out in 2017. Bloodsoaked orange skies from the headlines mention the atmosphere of this film. Somewhere, about 100 other people are writing their analysis of “Blade Runner 2049” as I type right now. Seven years from now, we’ll be talking about why the world is still like “Blade Runner 2049.” Villeneuve made a timeless sequel to be remembered.

10. It’s better than the first film and one of the best films in the last ten years

Here’s why you’ll probably agree with this one when you put your pitchfork down. Remove your nostalgia goggles. I know it’s hard to do, please, trust me. Look at the points I made above. Think about how ironic the love story is to our lives. The layers of meaning behind K’s existence is lightyears beyond the featureless Rick Deckard. The picture isn’t flawless. Niander Wallace is spectacularly corny in his scenery-chewing grim monologues. Dr. Eldon Tyrell had some ambiguity regarding the morale of his intentions. For that, I’ll give the original the benefit of my doubt. I understand Ryan Gosling was cast to be intentionally deadpan, but it’s okay to emote once. His distant stare in all of his other performances made it difficult for me to discern myself from the actor’s rather dull persona.

With this said, “Blade Runner 2049” understands cinema. Its atmosphere is why we venture into a dark room that takes us to a different place. Denis Villeneuve’s masterful follow up is one of the most orgasmic cinematic experiences I have witnessed in the last ten years that demands a re-screening in 2022 when theatres reopen at an entirely safe capacity. The style doesn’t overshadow its substance, which is far richer in detail than the original without grasping at blatant metaphors. “Blade Runner 2049” is slow cinema at its finest, letting us into the character’s heads, knowing when to be quiet and when to be loud.

Like “The Empire Strikes Back,” not everyone appreciated the movie at first. Time has been incredibly kind to it, though. I wish the Academy recognized “Blade Runner 2049” beyond its technical marvels in 2018. I suppose it wasn’t the type of picture that catches Oscar voter’s eyes. But it has acquired the audience’s to this day. Now, if you could just look up and to the left for me?

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[bedbellyandbeyond]

Lady Syd Rain, Part 1

(Flashback Post 1/2)

It had been five months since Sydryn had last been visited. Going into hiding had been the only option; it felt like every year or so another dragon fell by the hand of man. Syd had abandoned a successful archivist practice to settle away in a ruined fort near a small mountain town. The last to visit them was Dranley, another dragon, hoarder of blades, come to make sure that Syd was well equipped for the winters to come, should they be unable to leave their home for fear of hunting. With the rapid decline of the dragon population, they’d had a rather hastily arranged mating event, and Sydryn and Dranley had been paired up. As much as Sydryn did not enjoy the company of other dragons, Dranley wasn’t the worst partner to be arranged with. Sydryn had an equal chance of being paired up with Seranan’s partner, Prutus, a very old, very large dragon, lacking the newly embraced grace of a medieval dragon. Seranan had practically begged Sydryn for a trade, but even if it were allowed, Sydryn could care less for their sibling’s comfort, especially not over their own. Dranley understood Sydryn’s aversion to physical contact and only did with them what was necessary for procreation, nothing more. In their brief time together, Dranley failed to conceive, but Sydryn succeeded. It was deemed unsafe to spend too much time in the same place for too long, so they had to accept that Dranley would not bear any eggs. Sydryn turned out to be rather fertile and expected nine eggs. It was unfortunate but it was better than the eleven Seranan had been cursed with.

Now getting plump with offspring, Syd was tending to their stockpile for the winter when they sensed someone approaching. Footsteps crackled through the bush and snow towards their fort, but not knowing what was coming, Sydryn was cautious not to break human form, and merely went inside to fetch arms. Stepping out from the side of the fort, Sydryn rushed the intruder and pushed them up against the face of the building, their blade pressed to their throat. “What business do you have here?” Sydryn snarled, the flat edge of the garnet hilted sword easing back from the intruder’s jugular. “Come to slay me?” The person they pinned reeked human male and was apparently so, with their short stature, brown hair and imperfect features. They quivered in fear at first, but eased as they peered into Sydryn's face. “…S-Slay you? Never! I…” He stuttered, his cheeks flushing crimson. “…I travel through the village... I heard tale of a roseate maiden upon this mountain. Never could I have fathomed the true…depth of such beauty. Even now, I believe my eyes deceive me, as looking upon you, I feel in a dream.” Sydryn let out a loud irritated sigh, backing up, leaving the tip of their blade under the human’s chin. “You'll leave here immediately and speak not of our meeting, or lose your head.” “Milady… I must confess… I was not one to believe such beauty could exist,” the man stated. “I must know, what is your name?” Sydryn clenched their teeth. “I ordered you to leave this place. Do you not fear death?” “Thy name means more to me than my life,” he stated. “I’d die happy knowing what to call such a vision when I am asked in heaven.” Sydryn couldn’t have been more disgusted, but they noticed what they could see of the man’s tunic beneath their many warm layers was very rosy in colour, too light and even to be blood stain. The dragon lowered their sword to point it out. “…This tunic. Trade it for your life.” “…My… My tunic?” The man looked at himself then faltered. “…Milady…this tunic is very much dear to me.” “A tunic?” Sydryn snarled. “Your life must really mean nothing to you if you’d trade it for a tunic or a name. I’ll give you my name if you give me your tunic.” The man frowned but began to undress, removing a fur vest and wool sweater to finally remove their tunic, the only thing left between the winter and their bare upper body. He shivered, holding out the tunic. “Your name. Please.” “Sydryn.” “Syd Rain? Of…?” “Just that. Sydryn.” “Lady Syd Rain…” The man stood straight, trying not to shiver. “A most beautiful name for the most beautiful maiden.” “Yes, whatever. Dress yourself. Where did you get a tunic of this colour?” Sydryn asked, running a hand over the material. The man started pulling back on his other clothes. “My town, milady… We were not of much wealth, but we had the materials to dye our clothes such a noble colour. When we wore it, we felt that much closer to royalty, though we truly did know our place… The town has since been raised to the ground. That tunic is all I have left of it.” Sydryn rolled their eyes. “This is a material thing. Are you not a person from your town? You have you, do you not?” The man nodded quickly. “Yes… I do. I suppose myself and my comrades are the legacy left behind.” “Comrades?” Sydryn raised their blade again. “Were you followed?” “No! Milady, my men stay at the village. I made the trip this way my own,” he said. “…Hmph.” Sydryn looked down to the tunic. “Do you have access to the pigment?” “…Pigment?” “The pigment. The dyestuff. For the colour.” “Oh. It can be retrieved, yes.” “Good. I’ll employ you.” “Employ me?” The man blinked. “Milady, I am already—” “I couldn’t care less what lord thinks to own you,” Sydryn stated. “Stay here, do not move.” They turned and headed inside. The man waited patiently, determined to know what this beauty had in store for him. Sydryn returned with a satchel of gold, wealth enough to make the poor man gawk. “This should be payment enough. Bring me the pigment and fresh undyed textiles. I should be able to recreate your beloved home colour.” “…Milady…” He took the satchel delicately. “…This is enough to feed an army for several months.” “It should be enough. Go.” The man tied the satchel to his person and knelt down before Sydryn, bowing low. “I, Roland Cordonnier, accept this quest.” “No one asked for your name. Begone.” “Milady Syd Rain of the Mountain. I shall rally my men under your name.” “Please don't.” “Your beauty—” Sydryn drew their sword again. “I said ‘begone'!” Roland jumped back up from the ground and started off. “I will return to you, Milady!” “Do not return without my pigment, and return alone!” Sydryn yelled after him. After making sure the man was gone and nothing else was to surprise them, Sydryn retired to their fireplace, fearing the cold of the mountain might have gotten to their eggs.

Two more months went by without disturbance. Sydryn had all but forgotten the human. The winter was going out like a lion, but the trees nearby had attempted to bud. If it weren't for the nonet of eggs nestled in their stomach, Sydryn would almost find this solitude to be quite serene. They were hungry though and starting to finish off their preserves. Hibernation hadn't been an option; too many dragons were slain in their sleep. The fatigue was uncompared and Sydryn couldn't wait for the sun to come back. On a temperate day, Roland returned. Sydryn recognised his scent but took precautions anyway, drawing their sword again. “Milady! No need!” Roland said, carrying with him a large satchel. “I brought the dyestuff you requested.” “Put it down and go,” Sydryn stated. “You've been paid.” “Yes.” Roland put the satchel down on the ground. “My, I'd say your beauty has grown since lost I saw you, if I believed it possible. Infinity by infinity is still infinity, if my mathematics don't deceive me.” “Why are you unable to process the word ‘leave'? I'm speaking Frank, am I not?” Sydryn growled. “I must ask, milady, what you plan to do with this dyestuff,” Roland asked. “I'd like to know it's gone to good use.” “I'll be using it to dye my clothes of course,” Sydryn explained. “What else would I use it for?” “I see! I'd hoped as much,” Roland said. “You see, my men and I would like to give our services to you. We'd be your soldiers. We'd bear your colour.” “Are you stupid?” Sydryn asked. “Did your mother drop you? I require no services from you.” “I mean no disrespect, but the mountainside alone is no place for a lady,” Roland insisted. “It's dangerous and plenty difficult to survive. In your service, we could provide you protection.” Sydryn wanted to yell and scream, but they gave the proposal a thought and realised a human fleet of soldiers could prove useful in abating any who would seek to slay them. “…How many are you?” “I command a dozen men, milady,” Roland stated. “We are not plentiful, but each man is worth a hundred.” “Would they all fit the same tunic I purchased from you, or is there anyone well fed?” “Well, we have Simon who's probably twice my size…” “Fine. You'll get your colours. Allow me a week. Bring me three pigs.” “Three pigs?” Roland asked. “Are they for the dyeing process?” “Sure.” Sydryn was very hungry. “Three pigs then…” Roland stated. He bowed low. “Milady Syd Rain, I'll return to you this time next week with your needs.” “Just go,” Sydryn said. “I have work to do.” Roland bowed again and made off down the mountain.

Time passes swiftly for a dragon at work, and the week was up very quick. Sydryn had successfully made and dyed twelve tunics for Roland and his men, as well as a couple banners. The human upon returning was ecstatic. “These are of exceptional quality!” Roland commented as he looked over the clothing on Sydryn's kitchen table. Sydryn had allowed him permission to come inside for the first time as it was raining heavily outside and the last thing the dragon wanted to do was present wet products. To be sure of sizing, Sydryn had made a clandestine visit to the village one night and saw Roland's small travel group. The largest guy wasn't as big as Syd thought he might be, but in the eyes of malnourished peasantry, he was a giant. Sydryn stole a sheep and returned to their fort to finish up the garments. “Can I try it on?” Roland asked holding up his tunic. “I'm not stopping you,” Sydryn stated. “Give me my privacy, Roland said beaming. “I want to surprise you with how dashing I'll look.” “You're in no place to give orders, but I was leaving the room anyway to fetch myself a drink,” Sydryn said, walking out. “Don't touch anything!” They headed down to the cellar for a bottle of wine. While they were making their selection however, Syd heard a large thud from the kitchen and Roland cry out in surprise before going silent. Sydryn rushed back up to see what foolishness the human had gotten into, only to find a familiar face holding Roland's body down on the table by his neck. “Sydryn!” Seranan growled, their nails digging into Roland's throat. “You have pests! You're lucky I dropped by when I did!” “Seranan, you idiot. He's my pet. Let him go.” “Pet?” The red dragon let go of the man's throat. “…A man?!” Roland coughed and rubbed at his neck, trying to catch his breath. “…My…lady…” “Yes, a man,” Sydryn stated. “He is the leader of my army.” “Army?!” Seranan kept their palm on Roland's head, pinning him down. “What in the world are you talking about?” “I purchased his services,” Sydryn stated. “His men belong to me now. I am their patron.” “Have you gone mad, sissy?” Seranan frowned. “What would you do with an army?” “Seranan, what are you doing here?” Sydryn asked. “You shouldn't be visiting me.” “Well, I won't be here long. I had to…” Seranan stopped and looked at Roland. “…Is there somewhere private we can speak?” “Roland. Leave us.” Seranan lifted their hand to let the human stand back up. Roland gave a bow. “Understood. A lady's business is no business of mine. But allow me to extend my compliments to your sister. I never knew there could be another such being to equal your beauty.” “Equal?!” both dragons growled. “Get out,” Sydryn demanded. “I meant no offence, milady!” “GET OUT.” “I'm going, I'm going…” Once Roland stepped outside, Sydryn and Seranan went back down to the cellar to speak. “Why are you here?” Sydryn asked. “Syd, I nearly died,” Seranan stated. “I thought my home safe but those miserable men stormed in, swords swinging. I barely escaped with my life.” “I'm not putting you up,” Sydryn stated. “Just a night,” Seranan requested. “I'm incredibly tired from flying. These stupid eggs have made me slow.” “You shouldn't travel as beast,” Sydryn warned. “What if you're spotted?” “So, what? I'm supposed to walk miles in this form? Don't be absurd,” Seranan said. “I'd be dead in a week. Besides, I want to be as far away from here as possible as soon as possible. You've gone mad and you have men running free like rats in your home.” “I've come to a theory,” Sydryn divulged. “I believe man is a master of the hunt if there is something to hunt. Our species has observed them since the dawn of man. Their strength is persistence. If there is something do chase, they will not drop the chase until they are victorious. If we run, it only excites them.” “So what are you proposing? We just turn ourselves in like cowards?” Seranan flailed their hands. “Ohoho, you've succeeded, humans! We're here! Don't hurt us! We won't run! You're insane.” “Don't be dramatic. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard,” Sydryn snarked. “I mean, we need to be cleverer. We must hide, but outsmart them. To outsmart man, one must think like man. Become man. Join their society. If we look like them, we are not other. We are not prey.” “…You really have gone mad,” Seranan said. “You want to live with them? Is it because of that one?” They pointed upstairs. “Don’t tell me you’re…” They nearly retched. “…in love.” “Heavens, no! What do you take me for? A romantic?” “How should I know? You have one hell of a soft spot for these creatures…” “I do not. This is a survival strategy.” “If you say so. Don’t blame me if you get yourself killed.” “Likewise.” Seranan set their jaw and crossed their arms. “…I’ll pay you for your hospitality. Just a night.” Sydryn rolled their eyes. “Fine. You flew by night?” “Of course.” “If anyone's tracked you, I'll hunt you myself.” “I'm not being tracked.” “You'll pay me for my hospitality.” “I'll pay you for hospitality when you perform hospitably. And get rid of the human. His presence makes my skin crawl.” “My house my rules. And Roland will stay.” “Ugh, you've given it a name?” “Comes with one.” The dragons came back upstairs and Sydryn invited Roland back inside. “Here,” Sydryn stated, dropping another coin purse in Roland's hands. “If your men are as ill dressed as you, get them proper armour. You'll be tasked with protecting my property, myself, and the town at the base of the mountain. Build yourselves a barracks and train.” “Milady Syd Rain, this is an honour,” Roland said. “We shall be your knights Roseus if you'll have us.” “Yes. Now leave myself and my…sister alone,” Sydryn insisted. “Might I have the sister's name so that we might honour her beauty as well?” “No. Out of our sight.” “At once, milady.” Roland made his exit and Seranan sighed. “I'll admit, the endless compliments are somewhat endearing,” the red dragon confessed. “I find it terribly annoying,” Sydryn groaned. “Upstairs. I'll show you the room you can stay in.” “Thank you.”

As promised, Seranan stayed the night and was off the next night. They'd need to find somewhere safe and secure, as their burden of eggs would very soon have them bed ridden. Sydryn honestly didn't have much hope for Seranan's survival; they always found their sibling to be much more impulsive than themselves and prone to accidents. As the only other to hatch in their clutch, Sydryn felt a small amount of responsibility for Seranan and did worry a little bit about them. Sydryn had been the first to advocate postponing their mating event for their safety, as pregnancy truly did make them more vulnerable to hunters, but they had been outvoted as older dragons argued that if they waited too long, there might not be enough dragons left to repopulate. The majority of those dragons who outvoted them were dead now. Roland established a an appropriately equipped training facility for his knights on Sydryn's mountain. The town nearby was soon integrated into their walls and placed under their protection. The army's first real challenge occurred within a few months of establishment. The town had originally belonged to a nearby lord and a small troupe of soldiers arrived to seize the town back. The Knights Roseus stood their ground and did not yield to the other lord's troupe and ultimately took the town under their name. It was unlikely that anyone would be back; the town was too much out of the way for it to be worth regaining and managed a very self sufficient life.

#lore #Sydryn #Seranan #dragon #dragon pregnancy #medieval period #flashback

[insertdisc5]

how do you plan/script your comics? (sorry if this has been asked before!)

hi! I kinda talked about how i plan comics here and here, if it helps! But hey you asked and it made me happy so have a longer post.

For Coffee (since it’s my latest big comic i can talk about it in a bit more detail) it started with me just staring blankly into space, trying to find a Cool Idea that was in line with my theme for this comic (”dream team”), and then THIS MOMENT came to me:

(a panel of someone stabbing someone!!! STAB!!!!!)

(a panel of someone looking down at someone else, tired and weary)

(another panel, they look at someone on the ground (alive? dead?)) “I dont think we can keep doing this, XXXX.” 

or, as I wrote it in my rough notes:

which only makes sense to myself, cuz thats MY notes. 

but yeah i saw this moment and i was like ooooOOOOOOOH MAN!!!! DUDE!!!! THATS GOOD SHIT!!!!! WOAH!!!!! YEYYEYAYAYH

I actually intended for this to be the very start of Coffee! you know, kind of a “HOW DID WE GET TO THIS?” prologue. but then it didnt make sense with the story i created so i had to cut it, boo!!!

and then from that I wrote the dialogue! Just little snippets, from that one moment, trying to figure out how we got here- who’s XXXX? who’s stabbing them? why? BETRAYAL? what are they tired of? WHATS GOING ON HERE? LET’S FIND OUT

and then it’s just writing snippets and putting them in some kinda order and also who cares about punctuation or names or anything that might help someone that’s not me figure out what the hell is going on

(keymashes are placeholders) (i did learn how to write scripts once upon a time but i draw comics on my own so who needs a well written script HUH?)

when i write my dialogue i usually have a basic idea of how each panel is gonna look, how many panels, etc, but i dont usually worry about that, this is the DIALOGUE stage DIALOGUE is IMPORTANT!!!!! 

(if i do write down visual cues at this stage theyre still unknown to anyone but me. what does “aaaah” mean visually? BELIEVE ME, I KNOW.)

but adrienne this comic was for a comic jam thing and the constraint was that your comic needed to have a quote from a movie/tv show! oh yeah so i was like “hm if theyre assassins, something from the godfather maybe lmao” and i figured i’d think about it later and!!! while i was writing the dialogue i was like “and then X says ‘you think you can be happy without me or something.... stupid... NO WAY BABY, I’M IT’“ and i was like “THATS SUCH A GOOD LINE???? THATS SUCH A GOOD LINE THERES NO WAY I CAME UP WITH THAT SHIT” and i didnt because it was from Gone Girl. (taps side of my head) dont need to find a quote if ya brain just does it by itself

and then when i have all my dialogue pretty much 90% figured out its FIGURING OUT THE CHARACTER DESIGNS TIME

(nailed it first try) (also didnt figure out the barista’s design cuz this dummy only appears for one and a half panels!!!!! who cares about you barista guy. no one. except Y)

and then its EXCEL TIME

(each line is a panel) (i never fill the status column anymore because i try to draw pages chronologically so... i usually know where im at lmao)

at that stage i have a better idea of what’s on each page, in each panel, and i usually refine the dialogue here as well. this whole thing till now took like three, four hours

also i dont know where to put this but i always try to... kind of foreshadow the end thru expressions... and so i always keep in mind what each character is feeling at every panel! i dont always write it down but i ALWAYS remember. what i mean to say is that the second Y was like “arent you tired of this” X was immediately like “ooooooooooh this binch wants to leave me time to play dumb”

and then it’s thumbnails time

all done on procreate this time because it’s easier/faster/makes my drawings more loose and fun! just the thumbnails though because no text on procreate (AT THE TIME!!!!!!!!!!). just trying out poses and expressions, not really focusing on layout because weh. also at that stage i cut off one page! i had it roughed out but i cut it! right after X goes “lmao you’ll never have a normal life you loser” i IMMEDIATELY had a page with just. X’s dead body. eyes open and all. and it freaked me out!!!! so i removed it lmao that was too jarring even for me and i drew the damn thing. so BUH BYE

this took me. six hours...?

and then actual pages on photoshop!

(not pictured: refs and youtube with some kingdom hearts LPs open on my other screen)

and then drawing all the pages and resizing and exporting to PDF and then i went to bed cuz it was 3am. 

that’s how cha girl plans comics i hope it helped and anyway it’s fine if it didnt because im gonna be honest i love writing about my process. thank you for reading

#ask tag #reference #ref #comic #where i talk about how i made Coffee in a lot of detail #DID THAT ANSWER YOUR QUESTION? I HOPE SO! I HAD FUN WRITING ALL THIS OUT ANYWAY THANK YOU #Anonymous