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training4theapocalypse · 11 months

Text

And they call me crazy (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Non-con elements - reader is drunk and a (very eager to fuck) hostage, Light bondage, Oral, P in V, Unprotected sex, Edging, Canon typical mentions of murder and violence

Summary: You're a new intern at Senator Goff's office. It's going great... that is until Vigilante abducts you after you've been out drinking, celebrating the end of your first week. (Based on this ask from anon.)

A/N: I'm fucking impatient as usual and I couldn't wait until Sunday to post this. I've added non-con to the warnings but honestly, reader is so desperate to fuck him she DOESN'T GIVE AF if it's morally questionable that she's a hostage.

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Chapter text:

Your gasp is stifled when a black glove covers your mouth and an arm wraps tight around your body. You stumble on the sidewalk, teetering back in your high heels into your assailant’s body but he holds you firmly upright.

“Don’t scream,” says a man’s muffled whisper in your ear.

Your whole body freezes up. God, you wish you were more sober. Why did you insist on walking home after those celebratory drinks? This is not the perfect ending to the first week of your internship that you’d envisioned. Is this why Senator Goff didn’t turn up for work today? They said he was sick.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you keep quiet and get in the car.”

It’s a man’s voice. Not one you recognise. But you can barely hear it anyway over how loudly your heart is beating in your chest. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, it seems to say, battering frantically against your rib cage.

“Nod if you understand me.”

You jerk your head forward - his tight grip doesn’t make the movement easy.

God, why didn’t you listen to your Mom? She told you earlier to get a cab home and stay safe, you’d just dismissed her advice as usual because you knew best.

He removes his hand and pushes you into the open passenger door of a beat-up old Chrysler Sebring. It all happens so fast that you don’t even think to check out the license plate.

Shit.

The man shuts the passenger door after you and hops into the driver’s seat on the other side.

It’s him.

You’ve seen his masked face on the news, wanted for carrying out his own brand of retributive justice on criminals across Evergreen. You heard people talking about his latest crimes at work today. Hell, you’ve even made stupid memes about having a crush on him in your girlfriend’s group chat.

It’s Vigilante.

You were ready to beg for your life a second ago. But now all you can do is stare. At the forefront of your admittedly inebriated mind is the fact that you’ve fantasised about the masked Vigilante of Evergreen before. But in your fantasies, you’d always been someone that he’d saved from a robbery gone wrong or some other sticky situation. Not his abductee.

And this is no fantasy. He’s here - he’s real. So intimidatingly tangible and human. You can hear his breathing through his mask, see his eyes darting around your dark surroundings checking for passersby, and you can even smell the sharp, fresh scent of his cologne when he gets close to you, reaching behind you to grab a length of rope from the back seat.

“Put your hands out.” You swallow thickly, looking at his masked face. There’s no point in arguing. “If you make any indication to anyone we pass that you’re you’re here against your will, I will kill you.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you think I’ve done but I-”

“Hey - don’t make me gag you and put you in the trunk,” he says, finishing the knot around your wrists as your stomach does a little flip. Not out of fear. Something else. He turns his keys and starts the ignition. “Oooh, seatbelt! Sorry.”

You breathe in as he reaches across you to grab your seatbelt and clip you in. Your hands sit uncomfortably on your lap as the car drives out of the dark street and onto the main road.

He pulls out his cell phone as he drives to wherever you’re going and you hear the other end of the phone ringing in the silent car.

“What is it?” You strain your ears, listening as a woman answers aggressively.

“I’ve got Goff’s assistant. I’m on my way to the video store.”

Goff’s assistant? That’s a stretch. You’re an intern. And not even Goff’s intern. You’re his assistant’s intern.

“I’m not-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Quiet!”

“What?!” says the woman on the phone.

“Sorry, Harcourt. Not you.”

“No, I mean you did what?! Vigilante, you need to run this shit by me. You can’t bring her here.”

“I did you a favour! We’re way ahead of schedule now.”

You hear the unidentified woman grumble. “We’ve got Judomaster here, dumbass. Take her someplace else.”

Goff’s funny little bodyguard. Now you know that Vigilante and the woman on the phone are responsible for Goff’s absence. Shit, what’s he going to do when he realises you know nothing?

“Where am I supposed to take her?”

“That’s what happens when you go rogue, idiot. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. She’s your problem tonight.”

You hear the line beeping as the woman hangs up.

“Fuck!” says Vigilante and he does a U-turn. “Hey, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna have to take you to my place. I said close your eyes or-”

“Yeah, you’ll kill me. I got it,” you say resignedly. You close your eyes feeling the car turn left, straight for a while, right, left… you lose track. You have no idea where you are or how long it takes you to get there when finally you arrive at your destination.

You hear him get out of the car and still not daring to open your eyes, you feel the cool night air when the passenger door opens.

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Nope.”

You feel him reach over you to unclip your seatbelt and he hoists you out of the car by your upper arm. He roughly steers you across what you guess is a parking lot by the way your high heels click on the asphalt.

His vice-like grip on your arm still doesn’t relent, even when you reach the stairs.

“Not so fast - I can’t see!” And you’re still kind of drunk.

“Shh! Not here,” he whispers urgently. But his hold on you becomes more gentle as he helps you up the stairs, more slowly now. A sliver of empathy.

The sound of keys jingle as he unlocks a door and guides you inside. You hear him locking and bolting the door behind you. Great.

“Can I-”

“Yeah, you can open ‘em.”

You open your eyes. The small apartment is sparsely furnished, obviously decorated by a single man. No artwork on his walls, a small dining table, a clean but worn leather couch without even so much as a throw pillow.

The screech of wood on laminate makes your arm hair stand up as he pulls over a hard wooden chair into the middle of the living room.

“Sit.”

You do as you’re told. He pulls another chair over and sits down opposite you, leaning back, with his arm resting on the back of the chair. Vigilante’s intimidating form relaxes casually in front of you.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he tells you.

“I - do what the easy way?” You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together. What wouldn’t you want Vigilante to do you right now? Stop it, you scold yourself.

“You’ve got information and I need it.”

“I really don’t have any sort of information.”

He edges his seat closer to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne again. Fuck. “Hey, I get it. I was tortured for intel a few days ago and I didn’t crack either-”

“Torture?!” You panic now. “Look, I’m not lying - I’m not Goff’s assistant! If I knew anything I’d tell you.”

His eyes narrow behind the mask. He pulls out his phone, looking through it for something. “Shit.” Vigilante looks from his phone to you. “This isn’t you.” He holds up the screen and shows you a blurry picture of your boss walking out of the office. Sure you look alike - you have the same hair colour and both wear suits to work but she’s significantly older.

You shake your head.

“What were you doing coming out of the senator’s office?” He accuses, as if it’s your fault he’s kidnapped you.

“I’m an intern. It’s my first week.”

“So you work there? Right?” he asks desperately.

“I just get coffee and take notes, dude.”

He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Oh man, Harcourt’s gonna freak out when I tell her I fucked up again. I can’t believe I picked up the wrong hostage.”

You sit, wrists still tied together in your lap staring at him. Now what? Maybe he’ll just drop you off outside the bar where the grabbed you.

“Look, we all make mistakes. It happens to the best of us. No harm done so-”

“Stop.” He looks up at you. “You know I can’t let you go.”

You take a deep breath and look at him silently for a few seconds. “So now what? Are you gonna kill me?”

“I-”

‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’

Vigilante looks at his phone, apparently confused that it isn’t the source of the music.

“It’s mine,” you sigh, embarrassed by your choice of ringtone. You try to pick your phone out of your suit pocket with tied wrists.

“Your ringtone is Barbie Girl?”

You nod.

He pauses, giving you an unreadable look from behind his mask before reaching into your suit pocket. “I can’t let you have this.” He declines the call. Your phone pings as a message arrives. “Someone called Melanie says ‘Your boyfriend is on the news again’,” he reads.

Fuck. Your best friend Melanie knows all about your stupid crush on the man sitting in front of you right now.

“Hey- don’t read my messages!”

“I need to know if your boyfriend is gonna come looking for you.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear. She’s just making a stupid joke.”

Your phone pings again. “She’s sent you a picture - what’s your passcode?”

“I said don’t read my messages. I’m not telling you my passcode.”

Vigilante sighs and turns your phone around to face you and your Face ID unlocks it. He freezes when he opens the image.

Oh, god.

He turns the phone back towards you again and you groan. Melanie has taken a picture of the news on her TV. Vigilante is on the screen. Shit.

“I told you, it was just a stupid joke,” you mumble, feeling your face turning scarlet.

“I didn’t realise you were a fan,” he says, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he has a stupid grin under his mask.

“Well, I’m definitely not a fan right now.” You hold up your wrists.

“She can see you’ve opened it. What should I say back?”

“Hmm... say LOL…” He starts typing. “Call the police. I’m being held hostage.”

He deletes what he just typed and gives you a stern look. “Fine, I’ll just go through your messages and see what you said before.”

“No, wait! I was kidding!” You try to snatch the phone from his hands but his reflexes are too quick for your tied hands. He doesn’t have to scroll very far back through your messages to find what he’s looking for.

Vigilante laughs and starts reading aloud. “OMG, he is so fine… I’m just gonna say that again.” He sends the message and you hear the notification of Melanie responding almost immediately. He reads it aloud. “She says ‘Knew you’d appreciate it - wink emoji’.”

“Can you just kill me already?” you ask sarcastically.

He puts your phone in his pocket. “I’m not gonna kill you.”

“So what am I doing here then?”

“Waiting. For now.” You stare at each other for a few seconds. It’s hard not to feel like you’re in immediate danger. “Do you want a beer?”

Perhaps your life isn’t in danger.

You blink at him incredulously. He walks over to the refrigerator and returns with two beers. He opens yours and hands it to you.

“Can you untie me so I can drink it?” You ask, testing the waters.

“Are you gonna try and attack me and escape?”

You’ve never been in a fight in your entire life. There’s no way you’d be able to win in a physical altercation with him, not with his reputation for massacring criminal gangs.

“No.”

Vigilante looks you over, and you stare up at him, waiting for his assessment. “I could take you, anyway,” he says casually and puts down his beer on the coffee table so he can untie your wrists.

You feel yourself blushing again at his words. Vigilante could take you. He means in a fight. But your mind immediately thinks of him taking you in another way.

When he unties you, you rub your wrists, feeling the sweet relief of having them free again. Vigilante kicks back on the couch and gestures to the seat next to him. You move over and perch uncertainly on the cool leather. He lifts the bottle of beer, and then realising he’d need to remove his mask to drink it, puts it back down.

“You can take it off if you want,” you suggest.

“And let you see my face? No way. I have a secret identity.”

“Well, I bet you’re handsome under there.”

What are you doing?

The sensible voice at the back of your mind supposes that flirting with him might convince him to free you. Another slightly louder, drunker voice in your head suggests that flirting with him might convince him to fuck you.

He looks away, flustered. “I dunno about that...”

“That’s why you wear that mask, right? You’re probably so good-looking you’d be easy to spot in a line-up.”

He lifts the edge of his mask - you think for a second he’s about to reveal who he is but instead, he takes a long drink of beer. You watch his sharp jaw and exposed neck as he swallows and get a brief glance at his wet lips before he pulls the fabric back down over his face again.

“That mask doesn’t do you any favours, hiding a jawline like that.”

“Stop it, okay. I know what you’re doing.” You raise your eyebrows. “You think because you’re pretty, you can seduce me into letting you go. It’s not gonna work.”

Pretty.

You try not to smile, to keep your expression blank. You wish you could text Melanie - she’d lose her shit right now. But you’ve laid it on a bit too thick. Even though it is true - he does have a ridiculously nice lower half of his face.

“I’m just passing the time. Believe it or not, I’ve never been abducted before.” You shrug. “So what’s the plan? Stay here until your boss on the phone tells you to kill me in the morning?”

“She’s not my boss.”

“Sounds like she is.”

“I work alone. Mostly. Or with Peacemaker.”

“So let me go then. I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t just release a hostage.”

You think. Hard. “What if I could get you the information you need? Then I’m an accomplice. Not a hostage.”

“I thought you just got the coffee?”

“I know where my boss keeps her laptop. And her password.”

“What kind of boss tells a brand new intern her password?”

You purse your lips, wondering how much you can safely reveal to him. “She trusts me.”

“The way you want me to trust you?”

“It’s different… I just don’t want her to get kidnapped too.”

He tilts his head. “That could work.” He hesitates. “But I’ll need to double-check with Harcourt in the morning.” He spins his bottle of beer in his hands.

“I’ll give you the laptop’s location and password if you let me see your face.”

“Uh, no. You’re giving me the location and password in exchange for letting you go.”

“This is a hostage negotiation, right?” You give him a coy smile. “Let the hostage do some negotiating.”

“No way.” He lifts the bottom of his mask up again to take another drink.

“What if I suck your dick, will you show me your face?”

Vigilante chokes on his beer.

“Jeez! I’ve already told you that you can stop coming onto me. I’ve agreed to ask Harcourt to let you go.”

“I know. I’m just shooting my shot,” you smile, resting the beer bottle on your bottom lip. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Yeah, right.” He says though you can’t help but notice the way his visor-covered eyes linger on your lips.

“Dude, you saw my messages. I’ve always wanted to bump into Vigilante. Under different circumstances, obviously.”

This intrigues him. He turns in his seat, resting on the arm of the couch to face you. “Uh, what kind of circumstances?”

“Well, if you really want to know - they’re in my texts with Melanie.”

He looks at your phone again, opens your messages and starts scrolling up. His eyes widen as he pauses, reading. “Damn…”

“Which one are you reading?”

“There’s more than one?!” His voice is higher pitched this time and you grin. “Uh… ‘I wish we’d bumped into Vigilante when those guys were harassing us leaving the club last night. He would have kicked their asses and I would have-’... Holy shit.”

He adjusts himself in his seat and you can tell he’s hard just from reading your text exchange. You tilt your beer towards him encouragingly. “You can say it.”

“...‘I would have sucked the fucking soul from his body.’ Girls say this kind of shit to each other?”

You sip your drink and say nothing.

Vigilante looks at you like you’re a piece of cake he really, really shouldn’t be thinking about eating. “It would be morally wrong for me to sleep with a hostage.” He looks into your eyes.

You edge closer to him on the couch. “Accomplice, remember? I’m not a hostage if I work with you, right?”

“Listen, you are so hot. And if I met you in real life… fuck. It would be a different story.”

“This is real life.”

“You know what I mean.”

You get on your knees and crawl over to him between his legs. He shrinks back into the corner of the couch cushions. “C’mon. I won’t tell your boss.”

He swallows nervously. “You’re making it really hard for me to say no right now.”

You run your fingers over his belt. “Say you don’t want me to and I’ll stop.” Vigilante groans. You crawl forward again and press your forehead against his masked one, looking into his visor. “Tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick,” you whisper.

“Fuck…” He breathes. “And they call me crazy.”

“Maybe you should be more careful who you let in your car.”

His gloved hand grabs your wrist and for a second you think he’s going to make you stop but instead, he guides your hand onto the bulge through the fabric of his pants. Vigilante leans his head back, exposing a tiny glimpse of his neck between his mask and his suit. Your tongue finds the skin there, sliding across it and you feel him shiver underneath you.

It’s like he’s at your mercy now as you slowly, agonisingly slowly, undo his belt revealing the v-shape of his lower abdominal muscles covered in a smattering of brown hair. You slide your body down between his legs and kiss the trail of hair below his belly button while your hands work, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxers down.

Vigilante’s cock slaps his stomach when you release it from his boxers. Shit, you have a lot to work with. You’re already wet between your legs just from your conversation but the sight of him sprawled out in front of you - his entire body concealed with the exception of his hard cock - sends blood rushing to your pussy.

You lick your lips and the moment your tongue slides across his head, you feel his whole body tremble.

“Holy shit,” Vigilante whispers raggedly from behind his mask. He lifts his head to watch as his length disappears into your mouth, and you look up at him with wide eyes and hollow cheeks, sucking and running your tongue along the underside of his cock.

He grunts as you pull back to run your tongue slowly around his head again. His reaction makes your pussy ache with longing, thinking about how he’d sound with his mask off, moaning like that in your ear.

“Fuck, that’s it. Thaat’s it,” he says through gritted teeth as you find a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down. He threads his gloved hands through your hair - you think he’s going to start fucking your throat but you’re surprised when he doesn’t apply any force, letting you maintain your pace. Vigilante watches you on all fours, your ass in the air behind you as your mouth makes the wettest, sloppiest sucking sounds he’s ever heard.

Then he sees it. A glimpse of your hand under your tailored work skirt, confirming to him again that this isn’t just a ploy for early release. You’re really fucking turned on by being here, sucking his cock.

“Wait…” he whines, tugging gently at the base of your scalp. You pull back, replacing your mouth with your other hand so you can look at him. “Can I fuck you?”

You pull away and bite your lip, still pumping your hand up and down the length of his cock.

“You said you’d show me your face.” Time for your one last bargaining chip.

“I…” He hesitates, propping himself up on his elbows. “I can’t,” he pleads.

“You’ll have to cum here on your stomach then,” you grin, your wet fist picking up pace as he tenses his thighs and tries to stop his hips from jerking up into you. “If you show me your face I’ll let you cum inside me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groans. You stop jerking him off and watch him as he pulls his mask off, tossing it aside on the coffee table. He takes a pair of glasses out of his pocket and puts them on.

You stare at him in shock. You were mostly just teasing him earlier- you hadn’t actually expected him to be this good-looking. Sure, you knew from him drinking his beer earlier that he had a nice jawline. But even in your fantasies, he was faceless - he never had gorgeous green eyes and tousled curly hair.

“You’re hot?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. “What the fuck!?”

He smiles. And you can see it this time. It’s beautiful. He has dimples.

The intimidation you felt before when you first saw the masked killer in front of you is nothing compared to how you feel now. You practically melt, turning into putty. Feeling lightheaded you realise you’ve been holding your breath and begin making a conscious effort to breathe again. Seconds ago you were convinced he was at your mercy but now…

“Do whatever you want to me,” you say abruptly. Your underwear is flooded thinking that this man, this ridiculously beautiful killer wants to fuck you.

“Oh… I’m gonna.” He raises his eyebrows and lunges forward, pinning you to the couch and kissing your neck. His rough exterior armour digs into your chest. Your hands wander along his shoulders, trying to find the mechanism to unclip it. He feels your movements and pushes himself off of you so he can undo them himself.

You lie back, watching him remove his suit, revealing a host of white scars and purplish-yellow welts across his toned chest and abdomen. You undo the top two buttons of your blouse.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, tossing his under armour onto the floor. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabs the opening of your shirt and rips it open, sending buttons scattering across his floor. He pushes your bra up, not bothering to take it off to suck on your tits.

You run your fingers through his curly hair, feeling him sloppily run his tongue over your nipple. His teeth clamp down on your breast - hard - and you squeal and yank his hair.

“Ow! Not so rough!”

He just gives you a mischievous smirk and you release your grip when he sucks the spot gently, in a sort of silent apology. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise tomorrow - a secret souvenir of your night with the masked man from the news all your friends know you have a crush on.

But Christ, what have you let yourself in for?

Vigilante moves down your body, kissing your stomach and pulling off your skirt and underwear in a single movement, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. You gasp when his mouth returns to your body and a soft, wet heat envelopes your pussy. He drags his tongue slowly, carefully along your slit.

“Oh fuck…” you whine, arching your back. “Vigilante, I- wait, fuck, what do I call you?”

“Vigilante,” he says between achingly slow licks. Every nerve ending seems to light up, sending blissful signals to your brain.

“No, I - I mean what’s your name?”

“Vigilante.”

God damn.

You look down and lock eyes with him, his pupils blown so wide his green eyes almost look black as he stares up at you, swirling his tongue in wide circles against your swollen clit. The entire lower half of your body tightens up and the walls of your pussy clench, desperate for something to squeeze around. His fingers, his cock - anything.

You reach down to find his large, gloved hand and tug at the fabric, trying to pull it off him.

He pulls his mouth back and removes his glove with his teeth.

“Is this what you want, baby?” He asks, running a single finger through your slick, wet folds and over your clit.

You nod.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, Vigilante.”

He sinks two fingers deep in your cunt.

“Is this what you fantasise about?” His questioning makes you tighten around his fingers as he draws them in and out of you. Your breathing quickens in time with his fingers pressing against that sweet spot deep inside your pelvis.

He stops abruptly and the whine that escapes you is pathetic.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes,” you moan. “Every night.” You wriggle, trying to fuck yourself on his stationary fingers.

“Finger fucking yourself like this?” He curls his fingers up into you again.

“Mhmm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes, fuck, just like… like this.” You bring your hand to your clit and start rubbing yourself in an obscene demonstration for him as he watches from his kneeling position, one hand between your thighs.

You’re close now, you can feel your orgasm burning up inside you as your cunt starts pulsing more consistently around his digits and your breathing gets heavier. Just as your release is about to crash over you, he withdraws his hand and grabs your wrist, moving your hand away from your clit.

“Wha-?” You pant dazedly. “I was just about to-”

“I know,” he smirks. “Not yet.”

Fuck. He’s fucking edging you.

His lips meet yours for the first time and you moan softly into his mouth. His tongue rolls against yours and you can still taste your sweet and salty juices on him.

Then, without warning, he flips you over and you gasp wordlessly face down on the leather couch in stunned silence. He pulls your hips back and up towards him.

“Fuck, Vigilante,” you choke, lifting your head up and arching your back, your brain working hard to regain awareness of its surroundings.

The weight of his body presses down on top of you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget my face in a line-up.”

Fuck.

He takes his cock and drags it over your soaking wet entrance, flushed and swollen for him and the broken sob that escapes you is desperate.

“Please,” you beg again. “Just let me cum.”

Vigilante sinks into you with a forceful jerk of his hips and your pussy seizes up tight around him as your face is forced onto the cold leather again. You try and push yourself up onto all fours.

“Nuh-uh, I like seeing you like this,” he says with another forceful thrust, knocking you off balance. “Hands behind your back.” You huff and do what he says, his still-gloved hand pinning your wrists behind you. “I shoulda just kept you tied up, huh?”

You can’t answer, you can’t move, you can’t do anything except just take him. Sparks of electricity reignite inside you, the deepest you’ve ever felt it as he pounds into you, hitting just that right spot again. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder and when you see Vigilante biting his lip in concentration your walls start pulsing and squeezing around his cock.

“Not… yet.” He grunts. “Not ‘til I say.”

He pushes down on your wrists and it feels like all the air is being knocked from your lungs with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re such a… pretty… little… hostage,” he groans through gritted teeth, each thrust punctuated by his praise.

“Yes…” you whine because it’s all you can manage to say. It’s all you can think. That one singular confirmation repeating over and over again in your head - it’s all you want to be for him. Fuck, you’d happily spend the rest of your life locked in his apartment, letting him use you like this every time he came home after a night of murdering criminals.

Your eyes roll back in your head, fireworks rocketing and exploding into a million bright pieces. If there’s a heaven, it would look like this - a beaten-up leather couch in a shitty apartment in downtown Evergreen.

His other hand that’s free of his glove and not pinning you down reaches round and starts working your clit with rough, calloused fingertips. You squeeze your eyes shut, not realising they’ve been watering. Real tears leak from the corners, leaving your face a wet mess on the leather seat. You choke out a sob, not sure how much longer you can fight against your orgasm.

“Shh, shhh… it’s okay, baby. You can cum. Let it all out for me.”

And you do.

Everything goes dark and you’re lost in the pleasure that takes over your body, your climax wiping your mind blank of all thoughts except Vigilante. Your pussy clamps down hard like a vice around his cock as you squirm on his fingers. It’s only when you feel him shudder and collapse on top of you that you realise he’s come undone too.

You both lie there for a second, feeling the warmth of your combined mess leaking out and the sound of him panting, exhausted.

“Vigilante…” you say in a strained voice, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” he exhales and takes another gulp of air.

“You’re crushing me.”

“Oh.” He hoists himself off of you. “Let me get you a towel.”

With difficulty, you sit back upright to wipe your eyes and fix your hair. Vigilante returns with a towel and you sit on it, grateful for the barrier between you and the wet, sticky couch cushion.

He throws himself back down beside you. “Whoo, I’m beat!” he says cheerfully. “What do you wanna do now?”

You look at him uncertainly and glance at your watch. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Right, cool. Do you wanna sleep on the couch or-”

‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’

Who’s phoning you this late?

He picks up both of your phones from the coffee table. “It’s mine,” he says and accepts the call. “Hello?”

Wait - his ringtone is Barbie Girl too?

“It’s me,” says the same voice of the woman who called him earlier. “Have you dealt with the hostage yet?”

Vigilante looks at you and hesitates. He swallows. “Yeah. It’s done.”

“So she accepted the bribe? You’ve got the laptop?”

His eyes widen. “The bribe? Oh! Yeah, sure! The bribe...”

“Vij, you didn’t kill her, did you?”

“What?” He lets out a maniacal laugh. “You’re crazy, Harcourt, of course I didn’t kill her. What’s the, uh, budget again?” He winks at you and makes an ‘ok’ sign with his thumb and forefinger. He’s insane, you think.

“I dunno, like five grand?”

“Phew! Then yes, it is all dealt with. Done and dusted. I will get that laptop.”

“You don’t have the laptop yet!? Vigilante, you need to get the laptop before you hand over the money, idiot.”

“Copy that,” he grins.

“Vigilante, what the f-”

He hangs up, cutting her off and tosses his phone aside.

“Good news. I can let you go once you give me the laptop.”

“And the five grand?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Wait, you heard that?!”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well not until you give me the laptop.”

“I can get it tonight if you need it? We just need to swing by my boss’s house before you drop me off.”

He frowns. “Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. I need to… need to take you home.”

You tilt your head to one side and look at him fondly. You fix his messy curls and he closes his eyes at your touch. “Or… I could stay here tonight? Pick up the laptop tomorrow morning once you’ve fixed me some breakfast?”

He perks up. “I could do that! …You’re one hundred per cent sure you can get it though, right?”

You sigh and extend your hand. “Give me my phone.” He does and watches you go through your contacts.

The line rings and a familiar but slightly croaky voice answers.

“Honey, it’s one in the morning. Is everything alright? Did you get home okay?”

“Hey Mom, I’m fine. Listen, I think I forgot to send an email before I left the office and I can’t sleep worrying about it. Can I pick up your laptop first thing tomorrow?”

She yawns. “Sure thing. Don’t get stressed about it. Just go get some sleep.”

“Thanks, boss. I love you.”

“Goodnight sweetie. I love you too.”

You grin as Vigilante gapes at you.

“Goff’s assistant… she’s your-?”

“Yup. Now c’mon, show me where your bedroom is.” You stand up and reach your hands out, waiting for him to guide you. You step on one of your shirt buttons as he leads you towards the hallway. “You owe me a new shirt, by the way.”

“I just made you five grand. Use that to buy a new shirt,” he says, opening the bedroom door.

“Hey, what happened to the hostage negotiation? These are the terms of my release.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” he smirks, shutting the door behind you.

#vigilante x reader #vigilante #adrian chase x reader #vigilante peacemaker #adrian chase #vigilante x you #freddie stroma #fanfic #peacemaker #vigilante x female reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x you #adrian chase imagines #adrian chase x y/n

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aizawalovesme · 7 months

Text

⭒ 𓍢 LUSTOBER 2023

⟡ Overstimulation with König. ꜛ

MDNI I will call your mom !!!!!

Do not repost, Edit, Translate, Or indirectly share my work on platforms like AO3, Wattpad, Tumblr, and Fanfiction.net.

Smut under

divider: cafekitsune

Cw & Tws /// Overstimulation, No pronouns, Overuse of pet names, no use of Y/N, semi brat reader, female reader, might be slightly out of character, dyslexic writer who uses autocorrect, dom könig, könig gets embarrassed because he doubts himself, semi sub reader, "brat taming", reader humps königs thigh, a lot of cursing, I was listening to old animation meme sounds (not at all important I just wanted you to know this), google translate is used !!!,

Notes /// ummm. . . Did I put this off until 2am on the 5th? ....no........... anyways !!!!!!! I'm such a slut for Valeria she could call me a bitch and I would get down on my knees and apologize. Also I've never written smut before so feedback is appreciated!?!!!!!?!?!?!

König looks up at you as you whine, walking into his office. He has been back from work for about a month. He cocks an eyebrow under his mask as you come up to his desk, standing right in front of him. "What is it, Liebling?" He asks in that sweet honey tone that makes your heart melt and thighs clench.

"I want attention.." You mumble, leaning into his shoulder. He hums at that. "Peculiar, isn't that, Häschen?" He asks as he continues to do his paper work. You whine again and he takes a deep breath, then sighs. "On." He says as he leans back.

"what?" You ask with furrowed eyebrows. He looks you dead in your face and blushes lightly, feeling embarrassed. "You. On my lap. You can stay here until I finish working. I shouldn't be long, Liebling."

You sit on his lap, legs on either side of him as you lean your face into his neck. He picks back up his pen and continues filling out his paperwork. You sit still for a while, ignoring the ache in between your legs. When it begins to be too much you squirm, needing some friction.

He pats you on the back, "schatz, quit squirming gonna fuck up my hand writing." König says with a tone that makes you fucking clench. You stop and he goes back to work. You sit still for as long as you can until it aches.

You grind into his thigh lightly. You bury your head into his neck as you grind harder. He glares at you, "Quit." He commands. You mumble an apology and stop. He continues writing.

You really try not to, but feeling his semi-hard brush against your clit with one of his hands on your ass, massaging the skin lightly, makes your hips involuntarily buck against his cock.

He glares down at you as he slams his pen down on his desk. You feel your cheeks go red as you apologize into his neck, trying to explain that you couldn't help it. He chuckles and takes you off of his lap, causing a whine to leave your lips.

He turns you around so you're facing the same way as him and pulls you back onto his lap, semi-hard poking your ass as he takes off your shorts, leaving you in just your underwear. You whine as he spreads your legs on his lap, massaging and tying with your thighs.

He works his way to the hem of your panties, and slides one finger under them, toying with your slick cunt. You groan in pleasure, having expected to be toyed with and left for your own afterwards, like his usual punishments.

He pulls your underwear all the way off, leaving your bottom fully naked. You shiver as the cool air hits your wet pussy. He starts to circle your clit with one finger, and slides a hand up your shirt to play with your perky nipples. He watches as you get so worked up, and slides his fingers down to your cunt, now two rubbing up and down.

He brings his middle and pointer fingers to your mouth, "Suck." He says and you comply, circling between and around his fingers as you lightly gag. He takes his wet, warm fingers down to your cunt and slides one finger all the way in with no warning.

You moan at this, he adds another and you feel so full. Your hips buck as his other hand circles around to your clit, middle and pointer circling your clit as he starts to fuck into your pussy at such a mean pace..

He feels you begin to clench and he starts to suck and lick and bite on your neck. You feel that knot building deep in your stomach. You moan louder as he begins to circle your clit faster. You moan as you feel an orgasm rush over you, eyes rolling at how deep königs fingers are.

He doesn't stop, even as you squirm. He lifts you up, finally taking a brief stop as he puts you on the edge of the table, legs spread as he gets down on his knees and pulls up the top half of his mask.

He begins to lap at your clit like a starved man. You moan as your hips jerk, still sensitive from your orgasm. He pulls something from his bottom desk drawer that you can't see due to your eyes rolling as he circles your clit am fast, then he stops. You look down through teary eyes and see a toy, specifically the long vibrating dildo he bought for punishments.

He starts to slip it into you after lubing it up, and goes back to eating your clit. You see stars before it's even a third of the way inside of you. Your eyes roll as he pushes the rest into you, pulling it almost all the way out before slamming into you. He created a steady pace all while absolutely devouring your clit.

You moan and lay back against the desk. He uses his free hand to slide your shirt up and toy with your nipples. You feel the knot building and it snaps just as fast, Cumming all over the toy. König doesn't even stop. He doesn't even slow down. You moan and whimper and cry as he pushes you comfortingly, brushing your hair out of your face as he stops playing with your sore nipples, then goes back to doing what he was, hand on the other nipple as you feel the same knot building in your stomach.

König can just.. tell. You feel him go even faster as the knot snaps, leaving you sobbing.

And if he helps you bathe, brushes and washes your hair, cooks for you, and carries you around all night, that's your business .

Tags: @mariaflor18 (ask to be added !!)

#konig smut #könig #könig cod #könig x reader #konig cod #call of duty #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig #smutty fanfiction #smutober #smut #mdni #18+ only #no minors allowed #no minors please #overstim nsft #kinktober

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some-pers0n · 18 days

Text

Hi I made a crackfic for Arctic's death because I had a terrible, horrible idea inspired by that old fandom meme. I don't regret anything <3

"Aaannnddd...perfect!" Darkstalker stepped back. "All set and ready to go. Haha! Look at him! Clearsight, look, c'mon. Come see."

"Darkstalker, I don't think this is a good idea–"

"Shut up woman and come look," he bluntly said. "Come on, it's not like the camera's gonna bite you or anything. Neither is Arctic, but, eh, maybe that'll add to the drama. The kids love it when people get hurt, it's why they watch it."

He grabbed the camera again and pointed it at Clearsight. "It's rolling. Come on, babe, don't you wanna do it? For the bit? Ohhh it'll be such a funny thumbnail. Everyone's gonna click on it. Just stick your head near him."

"I'm not going to bite an innocent dragon..." Arctic muttered.

"HA! Oh but it's okay for you to do that to me. Not cool dad. Mid dad behaviour, tee-bee-haitch. To be honest. Tee-bee-haitch– you get it."

"Back in my day we just called somebody a 'loser' if they were a bad parent. Like, me? I'm a dead-beat dad."

"Yeah, that's true." Clearsight nodded.

"But I'm not...mid? What does that even mean?"

"Mannn you so did not cook. 'Dead-beat'? Yeah, you're gonna be dead as hell once I'm done with ya. Like for real done. Dead. Deceased. Ain't coming back from that."

"God just kill me now," Arctic grumbled.

"In a minute! Me. I'm God. It's me. Get used to it :)"

"What was that sound you just made with your mouth--" Clearsight began but Darkstalker cut her off. He couldn't bother to hear such a whiny, woman voice. He needed to pay more attention to the crowd that gathered.

"Hey, hey! Guys! Check this out! I'm a livestreamer. I do all of these cool things on Twitch and YouTube. Follow me! My handle's Darksalter. Like Darkstalker, but salty, cause of all of the noobs I own on my daily League of Legends streams."

The surrounding NightWings just blinked at him.

"Ughhhh. How about you guys being recorded, huh? You get famous! Right here, right now, this is a big deal. No cap, this is serious. This is gonna be a livestream to end all livestreams. There's gonna be like at least ten dragons watching!!"

"OH MY GOD!?" One dragon shouted. "TEN??? I've never seen anybody have that many, hold on! We gotta watch this guy!"

Immediately, the entire population of the Night Kingdom arrived. Even the queen (a closeted Darksalter fan, who was wearing all of his merch) was waiting for him. They all cheered and clamoured for him.

"Settle, settle! I know you're all such adoring fans. Believe me, I would love me too. Already do! Such a great, handsome, all powerful animus." He flexed his muscles. "Plus, the ladies love me." He glanced back at Clearsight, who had the most aggressively unenthusiastic frown he ever seen.

"But, but, we gotta wait a minute. First, I gotta mew."

"What does that even mean?" Clearsight asked.

Darkstalker did not answer. He brought a talon up to his snout and then traced the outline of his perfectly gorgeous jawline. I mean just look at that thing. Downright beautiful. Like, come on now. Look him up right now. Yeah, yeah! The thang of all time! That sweet, succulent jaw. Bro's been mewing since the day he was hatched.

[A/N: it is a pretty cool jawline]

He cleared his throat. "Anyways, enough talk. You had your shot for the thumbnail, so now it's all about me." He looked at the camera and enchanted it to float. It hovered above, pointing at him. "Three, two, one..." He clapped. "And we're live!"

The crowd cheered and roared as he did so. No omegaluls. No minus ones. He was an unboxing andy just about ready to tear open into his best work yet.

"Hey what's going on Stalker Gang! How are the stalkers in chat going? Can we get the hype train going?" He gestured to the crowd, which yelled and screamed louder. "Yeah!! Let's go Stalker Gang!!"

"Darkstalker...this isn't you." Clearsight sobbed. "You don't do this. You aren't like this!"

"Baby, I'm an influencer. It's my duty as Twitch's No. 27 streamer of all time!"

Clearsight cried more but Darkstalker did not care. He turned back to the camera. "Ayyy guys!" He clasped his talons. "So, today is a very, very special day, because we have a guest! That's right, my terrible, very uncool, incredibly mid father! Look at him. Blue pilled in every sense of the word. Even his blood's blue, which y'all are gonna see real quick." He pushed the camera directly in his face.

"Hey, hey, everyone!" He gestured to Arctic. "Can I get a 'boo' from you all?"

With his command, the crowd began to jeer at Arctic. A wave of rotting tomatoes came hurling his way, splattering against his face.

"And, with that being said, this stream is sponsored by Glep. Get a Glep. Now. Or else. You don't wanna be there when Glep is upset. That's how the last moon was destroyed." He stared silently into the camera for a minute, as customary with the Glep sponsors.

"NOW!! Let's get this going!" He pointed at Arctic. "You. Unbox yourself."

"Wh–" Arctic didn't have a chance to finish before he clawed at his torso and gutted himself. The crowd kept cheering and applauding and tossing money at Darkstalker.

"Woah woah, pretty messy, huh guys?" He raised an eyebrow. "Totally unpoggers. L behaviour. Boo!!" But when he turned back, he noticed that everyone stopped cheering.

"Bro, dude," one dragon began, "poggers is so, like, old man. That's so cringe, skull emoji."

Then, they began to dissipate. Quickly as they arrived, they left. He was cringe now. So cringe.

"No, NO! Wait! Come back! I'm still relevant! I'm still hip with the kids! I– I..." But it was too late. He was cancelled for being cringe. Everyone was bored by him. He was out-of-touch. He was out of time. He was out of his head when they're not around.

Behind him, he heard his sister, Whiteout, crying. He turned back to see that her favourite stim toy, a rainbow coloured pop-it shaped like a crewmate from Amomg Us, was lying on the floor. Things must be serious.

"Sis, are you upset at me?..." he muttered.

"Yes! You just unboxed our dad! My trauma points are like so high right now. I can't even..." She wiped her tears and kept crying.

Darkstalker looked back at Arctic, who was dead. Very dead. He growled. "When I'm the alpha king of the world, everyone will be my fan. Everyone will follow me! Everyone will like and subscribe! You'll see, you'll all see!"

#sp-writing #wof #darkstalker wof #wings of fire

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aurumacadicus · 17 days

Note

56 for the ask meme ficlet

Steve rolled onto his stomach as he heard Tony shuffling around in the closet, crossing his arms in front of him and placing his chin on them. As he got comfortable, Tony stepped back into the room, wearing nothing but one of Steve's shirts. It was a nice look on him, and it sent a pleased, possessive little thrum through him. He ignored it, though. Tony was getting ready for a board meeting. If he was late, Pepper would come in and skin Steve alive. 'I trained Tony to be properly terrified of me, so I know it's your fault he's regressed,' she'd told him once, ominously, and it had scared Steve enough that he decided not to test her resolve.

"What do you think?" Tony asked, holding up one hanger with a gorgeous suit on it. "The brown?" He held up the other, with another, equally beautiful suit on it. "Or the black?"

"It doesn't matter to me, so long as I get to peel it off you when you come home," Steve said, and Tony laughed, and shook his head, rolling his eyes fondly. He tilted his head, watching as Tony turned to face the mirror and held them both up to his body. "Does anyone else there dress as well as you?"

"Of course," Tony answered, not even having to think about it. "Some of the board are even wealthier than me. Old-old-old money. The rock on Mrs. Minvera's finger is worth more than my entire outfit will be."

"Oh," Steve said. He didn't know why he was surprised, except that he'd once seen Tony's credit card bill, and the number had about knocked him out. He watched as Tony casually tossed both suits onto one of the chairs next to the mirror, suddenly feeling vaguely nauseous. "Do you ever wish that I wore stuff like that?"

Tony scoffed, pulling Steve's shirt over his head. "No? I'd prefer neither of us wear anything at all, but..." He paused, stilling in his movements, before he swung around, peering out of the collar of the shirt at Steve. "Why would you ask me that?"

Steve dropped his eyes, embarrassed. "Sometimes I worry I'm just... not up to par with you?"

"Not up to par? Why?" Tony asked bluntly, and then added, "That's irrational. You are being irrational with me. I like you in your too-tight shirts and your wool socks and your old man khakis."

Steve scowled, looking back up at him. "If you meant it, you could at least not call them old man khakis."

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes. "Chinos then."

"Are you swearing at me?" Steve asked, sitting up a bit in offense. "Also, please stop having this conversation with me through the collar of my shirt. I feel like I'm having a conversation on a submarine."

"Because you've been on so many submarines," Tony scoffed, but obediently pulled the shirt off the rest of the way.

Steve was momentarily distracted at the hickeys that became visible on Tony's hips and chest with the motion. He was quickly forced back to the situation at hand when Tony used his wadded-up shirt as a projectile. It hit him directly in the face. "Ow!" He tugged it off his face. "What was--did you wrap my shirt around a shoe?!"

"I needed extra weight to make sure it hit you," Tony answered flatly. "I'll need that back. Anyway," he added, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you're worried about someday meeting the board and getting their approval for whatever reason, stop. They won't like you regardless. They barely like me."

"Huh?!" Steve shouted.

"They didn't like Howard or Obadiah either," Tony continued blithely.

Steve stared at him for a moment, too stunned to speak. He couldn't even really enjoy Tony's nakedness. He didn't understand rich people at all.

#aurumacadicus answers #allthingsmarvel100 #1-161 stony ficlet challenge #stony

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wing-dingy · 5 months

Text

Remember when I said I wasn't gonna post fanfics? I lied. I'm gonna post just this one as an excuse to have some Johnshi in my life but also because its rare I write a fic that isnt a self indulgent oc fic

This is just a lil fic where Kenshi comforts Johnny after a stunt on set leaves him with an injured ankle, mostly cute banter. Also sorry if the formatting looks weird, i dont normally post fics to tumblr so idk how to space my paragraphs like I do on google docs.

Click. Step. Click. Step.

The Hollywood actor carried himself on his crutches across the room, from the door to his living room couch, where he saw Kenshi waiting in anticipation.

“Honey, I'm home,” Johnny announced in a parody of those old movies, how he loved his dumb movie references.

“Doesn't sound like good news. Are those crutches?” Kenshi asked, judging by the sound and the patterns of the sound. Though he usually relied on Sento for sight, he hardly ever felt the need to in a casual setting, so it rested in the mantle above the fireplace.

“Yeup. Doc says I'll need ‘em for a few weeks, a month at most.”

Kenshi crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch. “Was that stunt still worth it?”

Johnny snorted, “Totally, the shot came out perfect! You may not know this, but I do all of my own stunts. Impresses everybody when I tell them that!” He dropped a small paper bag of his prescribed painkillers on the coffee table and sat next to Kenshi, wincing as he lifted his ankle to rest it on the same table.

“Aren't stuntmen used so the real actors don't get hurt?”

“I mean- yeah. But don't worry, they're just gonna film everything else until I come back, which should be in no time. I'm just built different.”

Kenshi could just hear the cocky smile, causing him to shake his head in disbelief, but he couldn't hold back the small bit of laughter at Johnny’s pride and confidence. “Alright, but it looks like it's my turn to take care of you again.”

“Don't sweat it, Ken doll, I can take care of myself. You've already helped me enough, and you've got yourself to look after,” He noted all too seriously. Obviously there still rested some guilt in his heart over Mileena's rabid attack that day.

“That ankle needs to rest. That movie needs you and you need the money from it.” Undeniable. Johnny was still getting back on his feet (not literally now) after a messy and expensive divorce, he needed whatever work he could get at the moment. “You just let me know when you need something.”

Johnny sighed as he looked down at his injured ankle. These next few weeks were going to be the most boring while of his life.

Kenshi seemed to know Johnny wasn't feeling so good by the sudden quietness, not even a silly request from his offer. When Johnny of all people was quiet, there was a problem. “Johnny? You alright?”

“Yeah… I've just never been good at sitting still and doing nothing, you know? Now I can't even use my own pool in my living room,” He complained, as if having a pool in the living room was a normal thing.

“Come on, Johnny, you still have a whole mansion. Unless your attention span really is that small, you're not gonna get bored,” Kenshi lovingly poked at him. “It’s not like you're alone either.”

Johnny noded with a small smile of comfort. “That's right, I've got you, my best friend, boyfriend, and assigned FBI agent,” Johnny joked. Gods, not again with the assigned FBI agent meme. “And hey, maybe we can invite Kung Lao and Raiden over to hang out. You think Liu Kang would wanna drop by?”

Kenshi gave an amused smirk. “Probably not, but Kung Lao, might.”

Johnny looked down at the table again, spotting a marker. He groaned and wheezed as he leaned over to grab it, trying not to move his ankle off the table as his finger tips barely touched the marker.

“Johnny what are you-” Before he could finish his question, he felt a marker tapping against his hand.

“You wanna be the first to sign my cast?” Johnny offered, trying to play it off cool but his excitement was slipping past in his voice.

“You mean Hollywood’s megastar wants my autograph?” Kenshi teased. He took the marker into his hand, and Johnny guided his hand down to his cast. Confidently, Kenshi began writing his name.

“Not bad writing for someone who can't really see,” Johnny complimented, meaning it obviously and trying to make it sound like that rather than a mockery.

“I still know the motions of writing, that's enough to get by.” Of course Johnny hadn't seen Kenshi's messier writing at his job and maybe it should stay that way.

The real surprise was the small heart he drew right below his own name. Kenshi wasn't so into PDA, nor into cutesy stuff like that, so it caught Johnny off guard to see the small display. It wasn't like people didn't know they were dating, Johnny was way too into showing off their love and too loud to keep that secret, but it was rather that Kenshi was a more subtle lover when it came to their relationship, preferring to keep things behind doors. Still, it was a nice surprise, and at least now it made the cast way better to look at! Of course Johnny was already pulling out his phone to snap a photo of it to post to his socials.

“You're posting your cast, aren't you?” Kenshi reasonably accused.

“Gotta let the fans know production might be on hold.”

“Is that it? Or are you bragging about us again?”

Johnny snickered, meaning Kenshi was right. “Okay, you got me, but how can I not show you off? You're the coolest! A blind swordsman? Dating Hollywood's biggest hit? We're like a power couple!”

If Kenshi still had his eyeballs, he'd be lovingly rolling them, but admittedly it was kind of cute seeing how enthusiastic Johnny was about their relationship- and kind of funny to think about considering they were previously rivals over Sento.

Kenshi leaned in to press a kiss to Johnny's cheek, and he could feel the wrinkles of a smile under his lips. “Looks like you're feeling better about that ankle.”

“As long as I have you by my side, this injury is gonna be a breeze!” Now it was Johnny's turn to lean in, this time leaning to rest his head on Kenshi with closed eyes and a content smile. Kenshi reciprocated by wrapping an arm around Johnny to hold him. “Shit, that medicine they gave me is starting to catch up.”

“You get sleepy off of a couple Tylenols,” Kenshi playfully quipped, making Johnny laugh.

“Just saying it's a good excuse to nap on you! Unless you're gonna tele-fling me to bed again.”

Kenshi shook his head. “Maybe when your ankle isn't as broken. Right here is fine, just keep your ankle up.”

“Sweet,” Johnny happily murmured as he felt himself starting to doze off. Damn, Tylenol really did knock him out.

#mortal kombat #kenshi takahashi #johnny cage #johnshi #[sweating] im so nervous about posting this hfnckf

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untoldsoup · 5 months

Text

Something scary about drawing fan comics is when you're faced with a pose, or a background, or a color scheme that is needed to move the plot forward but you *know* is beyond your skill.

Or even just a character that's hard to draw (looking at you, early versions of bowser lol).

You know it's not turning out and it's not going to be perfect. And it won't be perfect for a while as you figure things out slowly, and the fear everyone else can see you struggled with that one panel, or that one page. Just feeling like everyone can *tell* this is where you faultered and the scope of your story was bigger than what you could do but you pushed forward anyway.

And then I read other artists comics and I wonder if they are having the same struggles. And they *must*, I can't be alone in this, but I don't see those struggles in their work. So surely If I'm reading their comic and I can't see where they faltered or struggled or feel that 'this is the worst page I've ever drawn' then no one else can see it in mine, and we truly are our own worst critic. We judge our own work on a scale we wouldn't judge others by.

You got to remind yourself the viewer most likely won't see those mistakes. And if they do they are already reading the next panel and moving on. They didn't stop to analyze and judge that one mistake that you agonized over yet couldn't properly resolve.

Sometimes when I'm struggling, when a panel is just...not how I want and I realize I've spent so much time trying to fix small things no one will give a shit about I hear that meme in my head, the one that says "fuck it, we'll do it live!" And I move on. It's just gunna be like that. I gotta keep the momentum going. I can't be hung up on one thing.

And the momentum is crucial with comics. You gotta keep moving. Every panel or page you finish helps the next one be better, because soon things you once struggled with are second nature. You gotta use the tools in your toolbox. References are not cheating and every person who ever said that to an artist held that person back from improving. You're never going to fully know how to draw that angle if you don't *look at it*. It wont become second nature to draw if you just hope you can guess right through sheer force of will.

And coloring is fucking hard. It's tedious. Its boring but god when you finally get it right it's so rewarding. When you learn a new thing that makes your work pop.

And you gotta just accept your art will not look the same from page one to page 50 if you're learning as you go. You got to stop being embarrassed. Because it shows you were *learning*. It shows you improved and yes the early pages wont look as good but look!! Look at what you can draw now. It's a visual representation of every new skill, every new technique you learned on the way and we gotta stop cringing at our old work and instead thank it for getting us to where we are now.

#rambling after waking up at 3pm #just working on some really hard panels rn

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propertyofwhitney67 · 6 months

Text

Winter Break

Whitney the Bully x Fem!Reader

Words: 764

Warnings: Smut, fingering, Soft Whitney

Note: For the life of me I couldn't think of another word besides flop and I hate how it sounds but here ya go, my 2nd smut fic. This turned out way longer than I thought it would.

Snow fell softly outside, covering everything in a blanket of white. I rested my head on Whitney’s chest, my arm draped across his stomach as I watched the snow. He held onto me with his left hand and scrolled through his phone with the other, occasionally showing me memes and videos.

With the holidays here his extended family has come to visit. And with school out Whitney demanded I be here with him, so he wasn't ‘bored out of his mind’. We’ve been hiding out in his room except for when it’s time to eat, which he loathes. The only way we get through it is with him fondling me under the table. Which always leads to him taking me upstairs and fucking me till I can’t form sentences.

A cold breeze found its way through the old seal in the window causing Whitney to pull me closer and grumble, “Fucking shitty window.” With me closer he began to grope my ass while still scrolling through his phone, completely ignoring me.

His groping became more intense as he slipped his hand under my sweatpants. He traced the curve of my ass and reached down to play with my pussy, causing me to whine and buck my hips back. His only reaction was a sly smirk as he continued to scroll through his phone. ‘Bastard’, I thought to myself.

He continued to toy with me, caressing my fold and not going any further. My whines were met with him stopping and slapping my ass, then going back to his ministrations. “Don’t be a brat.”.

I let out a huff and grumbled to myself, “ ‘m not a brat…”

“Then be a good girl and hold still.” He said as he finally plunged two fingers in and began to scissor me open.

I let out a low moan, “Whit...”

He set his phone down and grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. Upon seeing my teary eyed face he chuckled, “Aww, poor baby.”

I pouted and tried to plead with him, ‘Whit pl-” I couldn't finish my sentence as he pushed his fingers all the way in, curling to find the spot that drove me crazy. I moaned as he quickly found it, knowing my body too well.

Suddenly he stopped, “Why?” I whined as he pushed me off of him and onto my back. He completely took off my sweatpants and lifted my shirt high enough for my breasts to flop out.

He groped my breast with one hand and the other continued his previous ministrations. “Better be quiet, don’t want the dear old family to check on us.” He joked and picked up his pace.

I reached down to touch myself but he smacked my breast, “No touching slut.” I let out a pitiful whine that turned into a moan as he curled his fingers again.

I let my head fall back and relish in the feeling of him filling me with his fingers. I let out a gasp as I felt him softly bite at my clit. I reached down and pulled at his hair and tried to buck my hips into his face but he held down my hips with his free hand. He lifted his head slightly and looked me in the eyes, “What did I say slut?”

“ ‘m sorry.” I apologized, still pulling at his hair causing him to grunt.

He managed to pull three orgasms out of me before I was begging him to stop, I was too overstimulated, “Just one more, ok?” He said in a soft tone and I nodded, letting him pull one more from me.

I went limp, trying to catch my breath as he finally lifted his face from my cunt. His face was wet with my juices. He wiped at his face with a smile, “Look at the mess you made.” I blushed as he crawled onto me and pulled me into a kiss, I could taste myself on his tongue.

After a minute he pulled back and left for the bathroom, I could hear the water running and then shut off. He came back with a wet cloth. “Don’t say a word.” He warned me, embarrassed. He’s never been one to give aftercare, it was nice.

He tossed the cloth to the floor once he was done cleaning me up. He took off his shirt, leaving him in his sweatpants, and threw it at me to put on. Once I put it on he laid down and pulled me onto his chest, rubbing my back till I drifted off to sleep.

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

#dol fanfic #dol #dol x reader #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity fanfic #degrees of lewdity x reader #dol whitney x reader #dol whitney #whitney dol #whitney x reader #whitney the bully #degrees of lewdity whitney #whitney degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully x reader #my writing

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takingchences · 3 months

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ultraviolet pt. 9 - BAKUGOU

A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x OP!fem!oc

Warnings: mature language

series masterlist + face claim

After the attack, U.A gave the students the following two days off to rest and recover from their traumatic ordeal. Their first day back, Sana was horrified by the state of their homeroom teacher. Mr. Aizawa was wrapped head to toe in gauze, his eyes mere slits, with both of his arms in casts.

He looks like a freshly dead mummy.

She applauded his badassery and dedication, but after hearing from the others how serious his injuries were, she'd assumed (like a normal person) that the Pro Hero would at least be on bed leave for a few days. Considering how sleep deprived he seemed all the time, she thought he'd be thrilled. Apparently not.

He reminded them that the world famous U.A Sports Festival was drawing closer, and after recent events, all eyes would be on them. But no pressure, right? She balanced her chin on her fist.

Classes resumed like normal, as though USJ never happened. It wasn't until the final bell rang that things got, well, strange. Students from all grades and classes swarmed their classroom door, blocking them in. Shinso made a dramatic appearance, where he proceeded to declare war on their class and challenge the entire Hero Course for a spot. He'd made his intentions of joining the hero course clear very early into their friendship.

From how her classmates had described the entrance exam, people with quirks like Shinso's were doomed from the start. He never stood a chance making it into the Hero Course... until now.

He was determined to get noticed this time around, and Sana was willing to help him reach his goal however she could. She gave him tips to improve his training regimen and offered to spar with him whenever he wanted. The two had lunch together at his usual spot two or three times a week, and spent the majority of it exchanging memes and gushing over cute cat videos. Shinso was funny in a dry, sarcastic way that she appreciated. He was easy to talk to and his laid back attitude put her at ease.

He wasn't ready to join her at her table just yet, but she always kept a seat open just in case.

After finishing her homework, showering, and eating dinner, Sana set her grand plan in motion. Stretching out across her bed on her stomach, with her phone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, she started typing.

Sent 8:03pm

Hey hotshot

Sent 8:06pm

The fuck

Sent 8:08pm

How the fuck did you get this number

Sent 8:09pm

I'm surprised you're still awake. You walk around like a grumpy old man with arthritic knees so I figured you'd be in bed by six

Sent 8:09pm

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS

Sent 8:10pm

If I told you I'd have to kill you

Sent 8:11

I'd kill you first

Sent 8:12pm

Good luck with that considering you have no idea who I am

Sent 8:13pm

Fuck you

Sent 8:13pm

How the hell did you get my number

Sent 8:15pm

I gave Midoriya an offer he couldn't refuse

Sent 8:16pm

FUCKING DEKU! ILL EXPLODE HIS ASS

Sent 8:16pm

That's kinky

Sana smirked down at the screen as the message bubbles danced, anticipating his reply. She giggled quietly to herself, picturing him stomping around his room throwing a fit. She could practically hear his demonic screeching through the device.

Irritating Bakugou brought her a special type of joy. The only other experiences that could compare were rebelling against her father, or cracking Shoto's mask of indifference. The ability to provoke such intense emotions in someone was addictive.

It took a few minutes for the boy to respond.

Sent 8:21pm

I'm losing fucking brain cells talking to you

Sent 8:21pm

Well I know you only have so many to spare so I'll make this quick

Sent 8:21pm

Train with me

Sent 8:23pm

The fuck

Sent 8:25pm

You know that's not technically a question right?

Sent 8:26pm

Meet me at Yoshida Park at 10:00am

Sent 8:26pm

Fuck off

Sent 8:27pm

You're right. What could you possibly teach me? I'd be better off asking Midoriya

Sent 8:27pm

YOUR ASS BETTER NOT BE LATE OR ILL FUCKING STRANGLE YOU

Sent 8:28pm

Another kink? I'm learning a lot about you Bakugou

Sent 8:29pm

FUCK OFF

Sent 8:31pm

Lmao

Sent 8:31pm

Good night hotshot

The blonde tossed his phone across the room, screaming curses at the unknown number.

"Shut up, ya damn brat!" His mother's loud voice scolded him from downstairs. "Isn't it past your bedtime?!"

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Bakugou walked with purpose towards Yoshida Park. He was familiar with it, having spent most of his childhood exploring the grounds with his followers. It was a short walk, but he'd had all night to plan. The unknown number had disrupted his sleep schedule after all.

First, he'd go to the park and murder whatever extra had been unlucky enough to mess with him. Then, on his way back, he'd pay Midoriya a special visit.

He had a list of suspects he'd been going back and forth on. First on the list was Shitty Hair, but Bakugou quickly realized it couldn't have been the spiky-haired boy. The redhead was putting in a lot of effort to befriend him—even more so after their team up during USJ—but the boy was far too shy. Second and third on his list were Dunce Face and Scotch Tape. They shared one brain cell between them, and both were confident enough to say such provocative things, but not so dumb that they'd ask to meet him face to face afterwards.

They had to know it would only end in bloodshed... theirs to be exact.

That left Raccoon Eyes or Flashlight. He hadn't interacted much with the pink-skinned girl, only in group settings, and even then, she'd barely stop to acknowledge him before getting into shit with Dunce Face or her "wifey."

One by one he marked names off until only one dumbass remained.

He stopped at the entrance of the park, spotting said girl leaning against a tree. Thick lashes fanned out across her cheekbones, her arms loosely crossed. A red and white gym bag was slung over her shoulder. She wore black leggings paired with a cherry red sports jacket, her hair held back by her signature ribbon. Bakugou himself sported his usual baggy black sweatpants and low cut black tank.

Her eyes fluttered open, the jewel-like irises sparkling in the morning sun. "Right on time." She pushed off of the tree. "Have you stretched?"

"I'm not here to train." He glowered down at her, their faces inches apart. Sana's expression remained neutral, but her amusement was obvious in the curve of her lips. "I'm here to kick your ass-"

"Again with the ass thing," Sana tutted, shaking her head in disapproval. "Is that all you can think about?"

"Shut the fu-"

"Language, asshole." she hissed, smacking his arm as a family of four walked by them. Sana gave him a coy smile. "There are children present."

Bakugou was seconds away from blowing a fuse, crackling sounds filling the air as his palms smoked. "Come on," she slid her hand down his arm with a soft, feather-like touch to grab his wrist. "Let's get started."

Bakugou muttered threats and curses under his breath, but continued to follow her to a secluded area with a dense tree line. A few feet ahead, the trees parted to reveal a decent sized clearing. "How did you get that damn nerd to give you my number?" The blonde grumbled, ripping his arm from her grip.

"Oh, that?" She shrugged. "I bribed him with a limited edition All Might collectible." She remembered how flushed the greenette became after she cornered him after class the other day. He'd been a sweaty, stuttering mess until she'd unzipped her backpack and shown him what she'd hidden inside. Seeing Bakugou's pissed off face now, it was definitely worth all the yen.

"... which one."

Sana blinked. His gruff voice was so quiet that she nearly didn't catch the words. The boisterous blonde she'd come to know was now scowling passionately at a tree, but his mouth was... is he pouting?!

Her lips split into a chesshire grin. "My, my. Is the mighty Bakugou secretly a fanboy?"

His brows furrowed even further at the teasing. "Do you ever shut the hell up?" His hair seemed to puff up even more in anger. Cute. "I'm nothing like that nerd!"

"Aren't you the nerdy one, though?" Sana tapped her chin with her pointer finger, eyes rolled upwards as she pretended to think. "I'm pretty sure you scored higher than him on last week's test."

She smirked in delight as Bakugou's body began to vibrate in anger, his nostrils flaring.

She stretched her body, warming up her muscles in preparation for what was probably going to be one of the hardest training sessions of her life. Bakugou wasn't the type to do anything without giving it his all. It was as admirable as it was daunting. She rolled her shoulders back, her neck popping with a satisfying crack. "Ready?"

The blonde smirked, his hands sparking to life. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

Fighting Bakugou proved to be even more of a challenge than she'd anticipated. He was strong and fast, every movement well thought out and well executed. He was also relentless, refusing to give her any time to recover or even think. It was purely instinctive, forcing her to rely on her reflexes. She was suddenly grateful for the decade of combat training Endeavor had instilled in every fiber of her being.

It was different, to say the least.

She was so used to going up against Shoto. Back when they were still talking, she'd been able to anticipate his movements with one look. Maybe that was part of the problem. Were they so intune with each other that there was no longer room for improvement? Had they reached a point in their training where they were unable to learn from each other going forward?

Sana groaned, returning to the problem at hand. She threw the blonde a dirty look for the particularly hard kick he'd just delivered to her side. He huffed a laugh, his lips parted in a crooked smile. "Not so cocky now, huh?"

"That's funny coming from you." She lunged, finally landing a hit to his jaw. They'd been at it for hours now, and Bakugou showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. There was no way he wasn't as exhausted as she was, but she knew he'd rather die than admit to such a thing. As if being human was equivalent to him being weak.

After another half hour of this, she finally gave up.

"Okay, okay." Sana backed away, holding her palms up in surrender. He stopped mid punch, his eyes narrowed. "Let's take a break."

He clicked his tongue, watching as she approached the gym bag she'd abandoned in the shade, walking back to him and dropping it at his feet. The pastel teen crouched to unzip the bag, removing two towels, some protein bars, and two water bottles. He caught the towel she tossed him with ease, swiping the fabric across his face and jaw. She plopped down on the ground, motioning for him to do the same. With an annoyed grunt, he complied, snatching the water and snack out of her hands.

She shook her head in amusement, knowing he wasn't nearly as frustrated as he pretended to be. "So dramatic," she muttered under her breath.

Surprisingly, the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was actually pretty nice. She could hear the small sounds of nature around them: the low buzz of insects and the soft rustling of tree branches above their heads. It was something she'd never associated with Bakugou before...

Peaceful.

After practically inhaling their protein bars, the two teens laid down on their backs in the grass. The sky had darkened to a dark blue, a few stars already visible.

Sana turned her head to peek at the boy next to her. Both of their chests were heaving lightly, their skin dewy with sweat. He had his arms folded behind his head with his eyes closed. As if feeling her gaze, he cracked one eye open and grimaced.

"What're you staring at?" Even in the limited light, she could've sworn his cheeks were now dusted in a rosy hue.

"Nothing," she averted her gaze, her own face burning under his scrutiny. "It's just... I'm glad you stayed." Sana admitted softly. Never in her life had she felt so bashful. It took everything in her not to squirm uncomfortably as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Bakugou scoffed, his eyes hooded as he watched the sky slowly darken. Sana joined him in stargazing. After a few minutes, the blonde cleared his throat.

"I guess it wasn't a complete waste of time."

Sana snickered. "That was really hard for you to admit, wasn't it?" A tch was his only response, but in the limited light, it almost looked like he was smiling. They stayed like that until the sky glittered with stars, like diamonds against midnight velvet. The two teens climbed to their feet, dusting dirt and grass off of their clothes. Sana called out just as Bakugou made to leave.

"Wait." The blonde turned to glance over his shoulder. The solar-powered girl riffled through her gym bag before pulling out a medium-sized package. "Here," she held it out for him to take. Bakugou removed his hand from his pocket and took the box. Flipping it around, his eyes widened. His jaw loosened in shock.

"The hell...?"

Sana rubbed her neck, avoiding looking directly at the blonde. "I figured I owed you for coming down here." She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. "You don't have that one, right?"

Bakugou clutched the box containing the limited edition Silver Age All Might figurine tightly. He remembered demanding his parents for one as a child. How they'd waited in line outside the store for hours, only for the shelves to be completely empty once they made it inside. How every store they went to was the same: the toy having sold out nationwide just hours after being released.

But here one was, after a decade of searching, in perfect condition... right in the palm of his hand.

"Bakugou?"

He slowly lifted his head, vermillion eyes clashing with dark pink. A million questions raced through his mind. How had she known?

Sana bit her lip to contain her giddiness. She inched closer to him until there was hardly any space left between them. She inhaled the sweet scent of caramel and cologne that always clung to him. "Your number isn't the only thing Midoriya told me," she lifted herself on the balls of her feet, her breath hitting his cheek. "Katsuki."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

They met up the next day, and the day after, until it became almost routine for them. They'd meet at Yoshida Park, or make the trip together straight after school if neither had plans. It came as a surprise to them both how well they got along when no one else was around. Sure, they still had the occasional spat, but it was mostly playful bickering and teasing to rile the other up. They both had a dark sense of humor, an almost unhealthy competitive streak, and a punch first, ask questions later approach to situations.

One afternoon, Bakugou had to leave earlier than usual. He'd grumbled something about 'dinner with the old hag' before storming off. Sana figured his grandparents were in town or something and decided to take off early too.

She texted Mina, asking her if she was free to hang out. The pinkette responded to her message at lightning speed, sending her the address of a cute new bakery she'd been dying to try. The walk took fifteen minutes or so. She spotted Mina waiting outside, the pink-skinned girl squealing as soon she noticed her. They shared a hug before entering the shop, quickly ordering drinks and a few desserts to share. Mina led her over to a table by the window, her hands clasped under her chin.

"So," she narrowed her black and yellow eyes suspiciously. "Where's your shadow?"

"My what?" Sana leaned forward. Mina followed suit, lowering her voice as if her next words were top secret.

"Bakugou, duh."

"What?" Sana fell back in her chair with a laugh.

Mina waved her hand around dismissively. "You know what I mean. Wherever you are, he's bound to show up sooner or later." The waiter appeared with their order, interrupting the energetic girl before she could go on.

Sana reflected on her friend's words as she sipped on her bubble tea. It was true that Bakugou always seemed to be around whenever she needed him. He'd helped her during the stampede in the halls, as well as telling off that reporter for her. He'd been by her side before the class was separated by the warp villain. While she'd been recovering after the USJ attack, Shoto had briefly mentioned something about her helping Bakugou, though she didn't remember much. The blonde hadn't said a word to her about it, and she'd been too preoccupied with not thinking about USJ.

"I guess I..." she answered softly. "I hadn't noticed."

Mina paused mid-sentence, having already moved onto another topic. Some third year gossip she'd heard from Hagakure, who'd overheard some upperclassman whispering about it during break.

She'd noticed how her friend had been pushing herself harder since the villain attack. How busy she was with training. Mina hadn't been there with her when she was attacked, but she'd seen the damage inflicted on the villains. Afterwards, Kirishima mentioned how strange Sana had acted right before the teachers' arrival. "You'd tell me, right?" Mina pressed, her pretty face troubled. "If something was wrong?"

It was odd hearing the bright, cheerful girl suddenly sound so serious. It didn't fit her character at all. Sana forced a radiant smile, wanting any doubts about her or their friendship to disappear. She trusted Mina, she really did, but she didn't want to burden her with her problems, especially when she was still trying to figure them out herself.

"Of course," Sana assured her. "We're best friends after all."

A scarred, yet handsome face came to mind. She wondered if it was normal for best friends to hide things from each other. In Recovery Girl's office, Shoto had implied that she'd betrayed him in some way. If only she knew what the hell he was talking about.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #boku no hero acedamia #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugō #bakugou fluff #bnha oc #bnha fluff #bnha shoto #shoto todoroki #aizawa shouta #bnha eijiro kirishima #mina ashido #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakusqaud

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koalaphoenix · 4 months

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I was going through my art folder on my phone and realized how far I've come with how I draw Shay (and her different forms).

Way back in 2021 I drew her for the first time. She effectively came from a dream I had, where I lived her life in one night. But the struggle was I never actually really saw what Shay/I looked like in the dream. I knew what I was, who I was, but not what I looked like, beyond my hands. One of the most spectacular dreams I've ever had, by the way.

So early on when I was streaming, I decided to take a crack at drawing the dragon woman I'd been in the dream. I couldn't even really remember my/her name, although with help from my friends it came to me.

The first sketch was... Rough, at best. I had no clue how to draw an anthro creature, which Shay effectively was. I used multiple references to even sorta rough out what I wanted, and the result was not spectacular. But it was a start.

Then I was memeing with my friends about our D&D characters. I fully intended to RP as Shay when we began a campaign. It led to the version above - the first proper drawing where I was mostly happy with her overall design.

Late 2021 and I tried to push myself a little further, although I still didn't know what I was doing.

Art block hit me like a truck for a few months. When I finally managed to get drawing again, the results were initially really, really bad. But it wasn't too long and I drew what would end up being a far more finalized version of her design, the template for many future works. She was a more agile figure than her design sketch. I adjusted her horns to make more sense anatomically, and to fit better with her hair.

And also I drew abs on her.

Then there were several more drawings. I touched on alternate versions, put her in some fun situations as self indulgence, tried to experiment with difficult poses. There was a lot of struggle, as I still couldn't quite get her head shape consistent.

Then I found some new resources, and on a whim I drew what's becoming my favorite alternate version of her: Shayaa.

(Flat color iteration shown)

Shayaa was born out of two thoughts. I wanted a version of Shay that was a little thicc, and I wanted a version where she hadn't been abandoned. This ended up with her in armor, and was a leap forward in terms of quality and some design cues. The softer snout, more defined mouth, and thicker horns ended up really helping me draw her more consistently.

I was worried that it was one of those cases where I went beyond my actual ability and wouldn't be able to replicate it, but I was mostly wrong.

I decided I wanted to adjust "prime" Shay's design a bit, to improve her visibly aging and to widen the gap between her and Shayaa to emphasize their differences. I thinned her up a bit, made her muscles more lean, and rounded her features to make her appear more youthful - she's in her early 20s at the start of Godbreaker, but I saw her design as more in her late 20s or early 30s. She was always intended to be more lean than I'd drawn her, but skill issue. I also kinda hated parts of her default outfit, they seemed off and weren't the easiest to draw.

And now? I'm pretty satisfied with her design. She looks younger and more lean, and ideally a little less "civilized." Her hair got spikier to make it easier for me to draw - I suck at floofy hair. She's still pretty big, at 6'7" tall, but she doesn't look like a brick house anymore (nothing wrong with that, I love brick houses, she was just not intended to be that).

But yeah. Going through the old art, a lot of which I can't add to this post, it really hit home to me how much in such a relatively short time she's changed since the first real sketch, how much I've changed...

...And how much has stayed the same.

Aaaand to not end on any sort of deep moment, holy shit her old feet were HUGE.

#godbreaker #myart #my art

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rudnitskaia · 2 months

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Found this in my phone notes. I wrote this when I was in one of my darkest and lowest points. I remember how I barely could breathe because of sobs and my hands were shaking while I was typing, and how I completely broke when I couldn't write one simple word without mistakes several times in a row.

And then one of my friends suddenly sent me a meme with a funny cat and I laughed on it, continuing to cry.

Now I feel like I need to share what I wrote that day.

I hid that note, which seems much more like a short story now, under the cut. PLEASE don't read it if you're sensitive to such themes as su!/c!de and depression. Thank you.

If I had a guardian angel

Sometimes I think that if I had a guardian angel, it would have been an approximately 40-year-old extremely tired and very quiet man, who has constant lack of sleep, disheveled hair, an oversize coat with some missing buttons and one splintered shoe. He chose me once because he was an extremely gambling person and thought that he can "lead this horse to victory" (even her name means that, right?), but unfortunately I turned out to be "a limping mare", so he simply lost all his resources while making bets on me. He was furious at me at first and desperately tried to push me forward without any success, but after a while, after watching on how I live, he has grown to care for me and has willingly dropped his reserves of wishes and miracles enormously below zero, all useless spent in order to cheer me up. Now he is in huge debts, and every time I start to cry and think that I'm not worth living he only sighs and again borrows some tiny happy coincidence from more successful angels just to prevent my disastrous thoughts and make me live through another day. He sits next to me, glances at his splintered shoe, then pats the top of my head and smiles, when that happy coincidence brings me some funny picture or a small notification that distracts me from sadness for a short while. And he murmurs under his breath: "There, there, my little one, we're gonna get through this, you'll see. You'll see".

And that is all just because he, like all the guardian angels, committed a su!/c!de in his past and doesn't want me to also work as a guardian angel when I die. Because after living beside me for so long he is pretty sure that I would sleep over all my shifts and miss all my chances to gain redemption and after that I'll be sent straight to hell, and definitely not that luxury hell, where many intelligent poets, musicians and other cool people of the past are chilling, but into the huge bureaucracy department where all the papers must be filled manually, folded, stamped, sorted and so on, infinitely. And there would be slanted toilets and no coffee in the whole damned office. At all. Knowing me and my devotion to coffee, he simply can't let that happen, and so he doesn't sleep, soothing my bad dreams, and walks beside me to catch me on every stumble and fall.

And sighs.

And borrows.

And then smiles.

#tw depression #tw sui implied #i'm ok now please don't worry <3 #heldig writings #heldig arts #about myself #short story #original fiction #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writing #art #artists on tumblr

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dballzposting · 9 months

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A bit ago I was looking through someone's blog on the tumblr and they were a big Bura x Goten proponent and I was looking at all of the stuff and marveling at how much there was and how much people cared.

Well I was just thinking about that the other day ... my personal dballzposting interpretation of that pairing is that they're like those two scenes from Clone High (season 1) where Joan moves her arm and JFK reflexively flinches (seen below)

Cartoonish rendition seen below

Sorry I gave Goten this epic swag ninja rattail thing. Don't know why it came to me. Won't happen again sir. Also I gave him a facial scar becasue one day he and Trunks were playing with swords and Goten wasn't paying attention and Trunks got him good. Well anyway

It's like well there is an age gap of 13 years between them so this wasn't easy for Bura to pull off. But she's a force unto herself and as soon as she set his eyes on him she wasn't gonna take no for an answer. At first it was just sort of uncomfortable but as she got older and more serious Goten started to get the sense that he was in over his head. And that this was a battle that he wasn't going to win.

Still though he held out for as long as he could and there would be momenbts where Bura would show up at the sword training dojo that he runs with Trunks and he would Not Look At her and focus on the sword in his hands and say "Don't bother me Bura I'm busy training with swords. Your brother is in the other room" and she would say "You know that I'm not here to see him you darn dirty candied son of a bitch."

Like OKAY: Here's my complete explanation. But first here are some memes for them

^ I couldn't find the precursor to this one which as I recall said "me and my bitch don't argue she tell me to shut up and I do." well thats the one that I want here

First here's the shit that I think is true about Goten and Bura always, no matter your purpose:

Goten has lived a really well-lived life I think. Which is to say, for the most part, he has had total autonomy. Obviously he will always bow to the orders of his mother, and he has always been respectful toward his elders, but it comes from a place of love and respect and he feels that those things are reciprocated. His perception of life has been expansive and sunshine-filled. He's always excited for another day. He feels as though he has power over himself and his actions, but also, he's comfortable enough to surrender a certain amount of control to fate. He's secure enough to be vulnerable.

He's always been Trunks's BFF and he hangs out at Capsule Corp quite a bit. When Trunks's new sister was born, it was a time of growth for the both of them: Trunks began to internalize for himself all the big-brother-habits that he's seen in Gohan over the years, and Goten finds the joy of witnessing a new generation below him. It's not a tough transition for him to relinquish his baby status to his new niece and Trunks's new sister; rather, he's excited to be a loving support figure, same as was always and still is shown to him.

So while he's been living his life to the fullest, he's also been somewhat present for the younger crowd. But keep in mind that he's still a youth himself. He definitely does have the virile life energy of a nubile tomcat. He definitely does make throes of city friends and he definitely does become an honorary member to many frat houses over the years. And by the time we arrive at GT times, he's self-absorbed and sort of shallow, in the way that a 23-year-old man might be. He's got one thing on his mind, and he's always been self-honoring. He's chatting up GIRLS.

We can assume that as he gets older he becomes more worldy and wise because .. well that's natural. We can also assume that more of his energy is spent sitting on deck chairs and cracking open a beer than it is spent on doing keg stands at parties.

Eventually, and I don't know if the timeline was ever disclosed, but he does canonically open a sword-training dojo with Trunks. Fuck yeah. That's the coolest shit.

So that's a schema of Son Goten right there.

Goten has always been nice to Trunks's sister becasue yknow that's what you do but he definitely is not obligated to care about her the way that he is about his niece. That's one of the strong points of Trunks and Goten's relationship actually, that they're not under familial obligation to give a shit about the other, which is why it's extra meaningful when they do bond, and it keeps channels of honesty open. And yknow, Goten and Trunks aren't gonna be MEAN to Trunks's kid sister, but it's no surprise that, in their self-serving interests of youth, they frequently find her to be a nuisance.

But here's the thing about Bura. She's a freak of nature. She's perfect. She's the perfect blend of her mother's insanity and intelligence and her father's fierceness and conviction. She's born knowing that she's of a special family and she takes to it very well. She was born with a Saiyan regality that Trunks just does not have. And she's damn stubborn. As a kid, if she wants to hang out with her family, then she will. Trunks isn't allowed to be mean to her so he has to kind of do what she wants to do. He can roll his eyes or complain or avoid her, but if she demands Mario Kart then Trunks has to play Mario Kart with her. He can set limits and compromises but she's still getting some Mario Kart time out of him. She's not the princess in a mocking way, she's genuinely a born princess.

Furthermore, she frequently considers GOTEN & TRUNKS a bore. As a baby they're fun but more and more as she ages, she's sort of fed up with them. She's 6 years old and she thinks they're annoying as hell when they're not bringing her to fun places. At age 7 she's speaking computer lingo like her mother and grandfather, and finding camaraderie in the 1's and 0's. She has friends of her own, and I know this because a spirit like hers would not content herself with isolation. She goes out and grabs life by the horns. She takes what she wants. She has this inborn fire. By age 10 it's undeniable: her presence of character way exceeds that of Trunks. Trunks finds himself avoiding certain rooms in the building that he senses are her territory, and though we can all pretend otherwise, on some level he knows that he no longer holds any sort of seniority or power over her: if he speaks and she complies, it's only by her grace. And it's a relief when she chooses to listen, because you will not win in a fight against her. This she gets from both parents: Bulma's womanly way of bringing the hammer down in verbal battles, and Vegeta's fiery persistence and confidence. When dealing with Bura, you get the sense that she has something unbeatable in reserves, and it's best to quit while you're ahead.

She's taken to power in the house naturally, and it makes perfect sense, given the circumstances. But Trunks just completely isn't like that. He never knew there was power to claim, and even as an older sibling, he could never establish a respectable presence. He bossed around Goten their whole lives, but then even the healthy Goten emotionally matured ahead of him. Maybe it's just Trunks's personality - in good health, he's easy and cool and chill and doesn't want any fire or electricity or anybody to hold power over anybody else. Or maybe some early life event set him in a weak direction, like a difficult birth or Bulma's inadequate new-mother habits. WHO KNOWS. But he just doesn't have what Bura has.

This is all something that is believable always. I will say this always. By age 9 Bura had already MASTERED fashion, as her outfit in GT so clearly shows.

You literally cannot improve upon that. She nailed it. And I'm of the belief that she stays winning.

So anyway. That stuff is true always. Now back to the bullshit

So essentially if you ask me how I think a Bura x Goten plot could go, there is really only one answer and it goes exactly like this:

Bura for whatever reason sets her eyes on Goten and that's it. Her will is written in stone. As soon as she set her eyes on him his fate is decided and that's it. She's an unstoppable force and he is not an immovable object. This is inevitable fate. Not even King Yemma can help him now

What happens is that Bura, for whatever reason, as she moves through puberty, decides that that Son Goten fellow is worth her attention. This is already so funny on its own. Do you know those stories of endangered birds in zoos imprinting on humans, and then falling in love with a zookeeper, so the zookeeper has to hang around and act as a bonded pair with this bird in order to encourage it to raise eggs properly? And it's so fucking bizarre but so so so beautiful too? It's kind of like that. When she's 15, he is a straight-up a 28 year old man. LIKE....? WHY......?

HE IS A FULL-ON 28 YEAR OLD MAN .......... WHY ?! He walks around in man jeans. He picks his nose when he thinks that no one is looking. He listens to Rob Zombie. He's sort of a disappointment. WHY HIM...??

I..... It's so funny but you can't argue with her becasue she's always right. She sees something beautiful and we're all going to let her have this. But it's just ... yknow ... she could have her pick of anyone in the world. She has friends her age I'm sure. She has boy band dudes at her disposal. She doesn't have to be this way. Why would she be this way. I was trying to make the argument that she's beyond formidable but maybe with great power comes great insanity...? That seems to be a trend. For example Bulma is a genius but she's also crazy. Dr Briefs & Bikini are crazy. Everybody's a weirdo here

I don't even think there's any "reason" like "her parents had her when they were old so she imprinted upon older individuals and can't help but to be drawn to them and to find herself in their midst" like NO that is NOT BURA. She's improbably invincible and won't be affected by reasoning like that. She's just weird. Or maybe she could sense that Goten is the kind of guy who would let a chick eat him alive and so she's just feeling chemistry between their natures idk. Either way, Goten looks young for a 30 yr old given his Saiyan blood, and it's not uncommon for pubescent kids to crush on matured adults, right? So this is a harmless situation, right?

Bura is very forward when she has something to communicate so this little crush of hers doesn't remain a secret for long. And Goten is whimsical enough to have a laugh of it. He's like "haha Trunks not to brag but it seems like your sister thinks i'm cute. I just turn all the heads. Poor thing can't help it. I'm sort of the epitome of male attractiveness so it makes sense ... she's a girl becoming a woman after all." and Trunks tells him to PLEEEAAASE shut up but Goten thinks it's funny. He lets himself be flattered but wholly unaffected. If anything he's sympathetic: "I remember being that age. I got a crush on a mannequin I saw in a window once. It's a weird time but I've no doubt that she'll persevere."

Trunks is frowning over it but Goten has a laugh of it. Ultimately, he's too busy being TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS OLD to care much. Trunks is still president of Capsule Corp, but the both are talking these days about getting back to their roots. This is the seed that'll later become their sword training dojo, but for now it's just bittersweet reminiscing and a subtle sense of being lost.

They don't know that Bura's little fixation is anything more than ephemeral and senseless, or that it'll become a viable problem. Goten doesn't know that when Bura visits Pan to hang out, she's begun to ask her questions like "your uncle doesn't usually stay with a girl long, right? Do you know why? What are the odds that he'll be married away in the next, oh I dunno, 10 years?" and Pan every time is like "Bura I'll shoot you in the forehead if you ask me that again."

Bura is like "Pan your uncle is cute af" and Pan is like "YOU'RE INSANE!!!"

Bura is like "the boys at school are cute and all but they all have so many opinions that they think I care about. The only opinion I care about is whether Goten would want a big wedding or a local affair" anbd Pan is like "THERE is something WRONG WITH YOU....!"

I mean they have the ability to hang out as normal and talk about Literally Anything Else, and they do, but Pan just has to be made aware that her friend Bura has evidently dedicated herself to weirdness with a fierce conviction, and this is just who she is now. Pan is trying to look ahead and figure out a career while Bura already KNOWS that she's going to usurp her brother as President and make a husband out of that Son Goten yet.

So now: while Goten has had an expansive and sunshine-filled life thus far, he's beginning to settle in spirit, and he's beginning to feel a touch of discomfort at the semi-frequent moves made by Trunks's teenage sister. At first it was endearing, but now - just a bit - Goten is starting to feel affected. Like he's involved. He wasn't really involved before. He was free to do as he pleased. But now he's feeling a smidge uncomfortable, and he feels pressed by circumstances to say something.

It's just a bit, at first. In theory, he still has total autonomy. He could turn around and walk home at any point. But he says something like "Okaaaaaaaaaay Well Trunks would you mind having a chat with your little sister about boundaries and personal space and appropriate language and whatnot?" But all Trunks can do is shrug and concede that "I don't really have any power over her Goten......."

It's a little harrowing. But ultimately harmless: she'll grow out of it.

But again, Bura is a force to be reckoned with. This does not diminish with time, but instead she picks up not just INTENSITY but EFFICIENCY. She becomes more and more sold in her ways. Goten can't "Does Your Mother Know" by ABBA his way out of this one

youtube

(sidenote this is in my top 10 fave songs and has been as long back as matters .. the looping bassline drives me crazy .. And i think it's really classy too. So tbh just let me have this)

Anyway. So over the years one gets the sense of "oh shit she wasn't messing around." "Oh shit she really means this." "Oh shit this isn't going away." "Oh shit."

Goten has always enjoyed his freedom, but lately, he's begun to feel like a shark is sniffing him out in the water. He keeps pretending that there's nothing going on and nothing to fear, and this denial keeps him safe from the realization that: Bura is a strong-willed Saiyan woman who has made her decision. It's only a matter of time now.

Goten for a while at least has the defense of "Not until you're a day over 18 sister" but that's all semantics. Time is inconsequential and will dutifully pass.

It's like this growing spiral of constriction, if you will - every new attempt at rediscovering that old sense of a boundless world is met with another hang-up or closed door, and it's subtle, but Goten can't run forever from the reality that he is being tracked like an animal and that his place of power has long since melted away.

And there's a lot of hang-ups - life is tumultuous right now. In the family, Pan is undergoing a spiritual discovery herself, and her ineffective searching is unnerving even to others. She eventually works on the family farm for a while, which is something that Goten is trying to uproot and leave behind. But he can't seem to keep a woman, and if left to his own devices, he would settle into the melancholy and respect the beautiful sadness he's seen until love blooms anew again; but seeing as his single status is a threat to his livelihood as it is tantalizing to the shark, he is nervous. Trunks is at his breaking point when it comes to his job, and Goten hasn't felt nourished by their friendship in a long while. He wishes he could help, but Trunks can't realize his fantasies of running off and playing with swords in the mountains until there is somebody to take his place --- and it all comes back to Bura doesn't it. She's 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, then 21 - Goten is in the middle of nothing until she finally relieves Trunks of his presidential duties and takes the chair.

Then Goten and Trunks are free to run off and fuck off, which is cool, and life is good again. It was a bit tense for a moment there but it's good again. It was a bit scary for a moment there, and Goten in a moment of weakness had seen for himself the inexorable reality that is his romantic predispositions as a male saiyan, and he had grabbed Trunks by the shoulders and begged him to please do something about his huntress of a sister, becasue Goten was only a man after all and of the stock of his father and he knew how it had gone with his parents and he knew how it had gone with his brother and he knew how it was going to go for him and he wasn't ready to lie down and take it yet and he needed Trunks to do soemthing to stop this becasue Goten at this moment felt that if Bura made one more convincing pass at him then he wouldnt know what he would do. And Trunks, feeling affronted, and in the knowledge he too is powerless, and in a transitory time in his life as well, could do nothing but punch Goten in the jaw and then cry into his chest.

But that was like a few months ago and it feels like years and it's all good now. They can forget all about all of that. That was all bullshit anyway. Now they can follow their passions and play with swords. Bura is too busy with the new job to be a nuisance. Trunks doesn't have to mourn the way that he feels like he never got to have a relationship with his sister becasue he was always fecklessly trying to keep her away from his BFF and he just had to pick one. It doesn't matter because he can play with swords now. He doesn't have to think about the devout fearful aversion that he holds for the strong-woman-eats-man dynamic because hes out in the mountains playing with swords with Goten. He doesn't have to witness that pattern in his parents and grapple with the way that his own conception revolved around the dynamic of a man lying his spirit down, or submitting to a womanly force. He doesn't have to think about the way that his father of strong character had warned him about women like that. He doesn't have to witness that dynamic in his parents, or in Goten's parents, or in anyone, because right now it's just he and Goten up there in the mountains playing with swords. Trunks doesn't have to face the horrific distress of bearing witness to his best friend being hunted and shot down by a woman of will. He doesn't have to see Goten grip at his shirt in fearful desperation, the fear of a man who already knows who is in possession of his soul; the fear of the body wanting to live and fighting against the spirit who can see and accept death. And Trunks especially doesn't have to sit and try to digest the ungodly amount of rage he feels toward his own sister, who has always gotten her way, who is trying to steal Trunks's most important friend from him, and who has forced Trunks to reconcile with his own weakness and vulnerability at the courtesy of her own strength.

So everything's good up there in the mountains. And I'm unsure on the timeline but they play with swords and do some exploring and traveling and discovering and eventually they see it fit to open their own dojo. Life is good.

But Bura will still come around like she always has and she'll walk into the dojo that they're trying to renovate and her red heels will clack on the ground like it's nobody's business. And she'll talk to Goten and he just has to stare at his sword and avoid looking at her and sweat stoically and insist "I'm with another girl again now you can't keep pushing your shit Bura..." and she just stands there in her perfect outfit with her hands on her hips knowing damn well that this battle was over with as soon as it started. And over the years life has been good and bad and scary and fun and they've had their laughs and tears. And it's really no big deal. Bura could have anyone in the world, if she wanted them. Right now she's perfectly satisfied in her professional life. She sort of misses the female camaraderie but she's willing to wait until Pan is done with her soul-searching journey before reconnecting with her again. She trains enough and socializes enough and feels enough that she's doing really good for herself, like always.

She's 25 years old and she stands at the attention of this poor 38-year-old bastard. Goten avoids looking at her in the eye, or at all, same as Vegeta did to Bulma when he first started to feel her effect. Bura instinctively knows the signs.

Goten is an open kind of person. He doesn't like denying and repressing things for long. It's counterintuitive to him, someone who places a certain amount of respect in and relinquishes a certain amount of control to fate, to keep fighting against the current for forever. He craves the comfort and relief of lying down with grace. Saiyans keep fighting until they're dead, but only for interests of the self, and Goten doesn't see it fit to keep fighting against himself like this.

He doesn't look at her because he knows that she's already won. He's just biding his time. Obviously he would have preferred that things had gone differently, and he wishes that a woman of his generation would have committed to him the fierce way that Bura has, but them's the cards. At the end of the day, Goten is very much a "Oh well. Play the cards that I'm given" kind of guy. Meanwhile Bura is the one who's dealing the cards.

He doesn't look at her until all of him is ready to. There's still some fight in him that hasn't accepted fate yet. That's fine. We've all the time in the world. It marches dutifully on.

There's literally a day where Goten and Trunks are cloudgazing in silence and then Goten slowly gets up and says "........yknow what Trunks. I'm um. I'm gonna go visit Bura.. See what she's up to." And he doesn't hang around for a response, he just starts walking away. And there's nothing of worth that Trunks can say because he knows exactly what that means and he can't stand to see it. He would rather spend his whole life fighting the will of a woman, to prove that he has power, and that it's possible for him to win. He could never accept the outlook that it's inevitable, that that's just biology. He's been fighting on Goten's behalf for years, keeping he and Bura in seperate rooms, trying to vain to talk some sense into the both of them, making sure to keep Goten's fighting spirit up - and to think that all of that effort could amount to nothing...? That Trunks cannot vicariously heal the wound and insecurity that he inherited by circumstances of his conception and by witnessing his parents' relationship...? That Goten's submission is a mark of grace and strength, and not of anything else, is obvious but incredibly difficult for Trunks to digest.

Anyway, though. I don't know why a 25 year old woman would want to be with a 38 year old man but Bura is just funny and crazy that way. They get married too. She marries a 40 year old. IDK why but it's funny. And BTW I forgot to weave this in but all of their parents have opinions on this arrangement too. Sort of. Goku doesn't care. Chichi has many qualms, such as the age gap, or Bura's busy lifestyle hamstringing her housewife potential, but she's also glad that FINALLY her second son is to be married! Bulma takes start but of course sees beauty in the way that her daughter will do as she will. She probably thinks it's funny in the end. Vegeta's opinion is really the one I want to talk about though because it's so simple and straightforward and factual to him

See unto his son he's imparted the idea subtlety that: women are stronger than men. He tells Trunks to never stop training, to keep improving, to be stronger than the world, etc. Out loud, he says things about minding your own strength and that chivalry is needed when it comes to women, because you cannot abuse your own strength. But in his BEHAVIOR, it looks to Trunks less like chivalry, and more like getting pussywhipped. Vegeta TRIES to argue with Bulma and ALWAYS loses. This has set up Trunks to feel distrustful about his own vulnerability and about aggressive women in general.

Unto his daughter, Vegeta has implicitly imparted these beliefs of his. While he never SAYS outloud anything about men and women and their dynamic, his beliefs regarding do come through. He raises Bura to be completely confident and self-loyal. He encourages all whims and passions of hers. He even bends to her opinion sometimes, like in GT when he shaved his mustache because she said that he looked awful with it. Why would she have that opinion? She's just a fashionista 9 year old who is saying shit. She may change her mind tomorrow. Who's to say that she's right about anything? She's 9. BUT he not only honored her opinion, but deferred to it. This is the reality of Bura's upbringing. And when she bears witness to strife between her parents, she always feels assured that it is her side who will win in the end.

So when it comes to Bura maintaining a committed crush on Son Goten, Vegeta's opinion is simple: GO FOR IT GIRL! The fuck! What're you asking me for?! You come from a long line of people who win hard. Furthermore, all of your opinions are correct and your spirit is perfect. Your path of maturity has been only beautiful and your potential is pure. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that nobody will surpass me and I expect you to do the same and if I die by your hand I will be proud of you. That won't happen because I'll never quit ever but if it did happen I'd be proud of you. Anyway. Love is a woman's prerogative and you've made a decision. We are all going to respect that.

And then Vegeta looks at Goten for 3 seconds one day and in that 3 seconds perceives the perfect truth: That this bloke will be a respectful husband and will absolutely do as his wife says. He'll be the strong man behind the even stronger woman. This is fine and natural. All is right in the world.

You may think that he'd have opinions about his daughter being with a son of Kakarrot but he doesn't. He's always treated his children as self-realized individuals and they are free to do as they do. Their ways aren't up to him. He can do his best to inculcate nerve and honor in them but he cannot, and is not interested in, controlling them. He has absolutely no opinion on his daughter getting with kakarot's son.

Anyway. Back to Goten and Bura and the ever-apparent vortex that she has him in that he eventually concedes to.

See Goten has Saiyan blood first of all so of course he likes strength in a woman. Nothing speaks of strength more than the tenacity of a huntress. Second of all, his upbringing. Look at his mother... she's strong, strict, decisive, forceful, stern, controlling. This is Goten's perception of women. He has been trained to respond to sharp orders by a woman. He responds well to it, actually. His mother has always loved him and he feels like he belongs when a woman tells him what to do. He feels like a good and proper husband when his wife tells him what to do. And he does what she tells him to do, too! He doesn't want to cause grief like his father caused his mother by being defiant or careless. This is his nature and upbringing. He responds very well to forceful treatment. Reciprocation to this is his love language, in a way.

He began to sense this with Bura a few years in, which is what fueled the fear - the idea that he was up against something that he was weak to. But eventually, he does have the grace to accept love, in any form, as it comes to him, and he does bow his head to circumstance, and he feels love by doing so.

This is the very thing that Trunks is so strongly against, and perhaps part of why his romantic exploits have always gone cold is because he in unwilling to accept that a piece of this is in his nature as well.

But yeah. Bura marries a man 13 years her senior and it's her prerogative. She and Goten have 3 kids exactly 2.5 years apart in age. Goten is a househusband and he's soooooooo happy to do it. He learns how to cook from his mother and he loooooves taking care of the kids. He's soooooo proud to have them and he loves them. He is so touched by beauty and pride for his wife's offspring, and he's so honored that they're his kids too. He's 40 years old and was starting to fear that he wouldn't have the time to be a father. He's so grateful that a young woman with ample reproductive potential chose him, because he almost missed his chance there. Sometimes he feels that it's too good to be true. He loves being a parent

When the second one was born he was sitting with Trunks and holding the baby and Trunks could see the remarkable tenderness, gratitude, and humility radiating off of Goten, and it made his stomach tie up in a knot. And then Bura (who has taken maternity leave to nurse the baby) calls from the other room - some sort of command - she summons her husband or something or another - and it's not a bark, because she's much too dignified and serene, it's just the loving order of a wife - and Goten responds reflexively - "yes dear" - and then seems to feel love as though the reflex were deliberate. He rises with the babe in his arms - and it's a healthy baby, too, though it's too early to say much else - and he doesn't properly excuse himself from he and Trunks's conversation because he assumes that Trunks, as a man, would understand and respect the beckon of a wife. This is the necessity of family.

But obviously Trunks hates every single part of this. He hates his sister for this, and the hate is too strong for him to engage in without losing himself so he just shoves it away. He misses his BFF and feels like he has nobody. Ideally Goten would have taken on literally any other woman as a wife, and then Trunks could maintain some closeness, but his sister has lived a pervasive pattern of running him out of his own territory (house space, parents's attention, work) so he can't even just sit here. He wants to be delighted by his nephews but he feels so difficult inside about it.

It's soooooo miserable for him but Goten loves it. He LOVES not having to think too hard or make difficult executive decisions - Bura already has opinions, a plan, Bura already knows. I imagine that their age gap makes it weird sometimes - Goten has this old man wisdom while Bura is a girl of the city - but they are able to close this discrepancy with surprising frequency and efficiency. Bura can maintain a thoughtful, emotional, perceptive conversation. Goten can feel honored by her words. She responds to him with consideration, in her assertive way, and he even forgets his place sometimes and tries to get her to open up before she chooses to. She likes this about him.

Obviously everything to up to her and she decided that she wanted 3 kids 2.5 years apart and he was like Ok. And she already knows what she wants to name her first son and her first daughter, and she not only lets Goten but WANTS Goten to name the other(s). She does love him. For some reason. We still don't know why. But now that it's all said and done, they do play well together.

The first kid is a boy and she names it something like Thong or Sock idk to fit the nomenclature on her mother's side. The next one is another boy so Goten gets to name this one - and obviosuly obviosuly OBVIOUSLY he names it Gohan III. The last one is a daughter named Eschalot. Obviosuly.

Anyway that's my post and unsolicited opinion on Bura x Goten.

Take care

#dballz posting #dballz draws #BraTen #Well .. That's that. Lol.

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