#hoooo...that was a lot of words
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OKAY YK WHAT THONKING ABOUT ARO CARRIE NOWW... I think shed reach a point in her adult life where she realises 'wait im an adult.. The few civillian friends i have are moving out of their parents homes and getting into relationships.. Hmmm' and she brushes the thought aside cos shes batman.. Whyd she have time to move out.. Her and boss got goons to take down yk?? But then she thinks more on it and she realises the idea is so completely unappealing. Move in with some random guy?? But the idea of living alone also feels alien because shes grown up surrounded by the batboys and boss.
Anyway point being: carrie literally just lives with her kinda-dad (bruce) her whole life and bruce never brings it up that it is atypical out of fear that carrie will move out when he does
YES UES YES YOU GET IT. carrie ABSOLUTELY lives w bruce n the batboys. in bruces mind it's just like. dick lived w him jason lived w him why wouldn't carrie live w him? ofc we don't know what happened 2 dick 2 cause the rift btw him n bruce n we know jason died well before he was at moving out age and carrie. she like has a civilian life but it's more just to fill time btw training n detective work n patrol. her friends who aren't even slightly in the know she just says that she has a really demanding night job.
we think she probably keeps an appt in the city just 2 sleep + eat in 2 lessen her commute and that's where she takes friends. in the eyes of her friends she isn't weird for not having moved out bc they think she already has. n accounting for the amount of time she would be on the phone/comm. link for info drops + other work stuff, it wouldn't be hard 2 assume that she's actually texting a partner instead of scheduling an ambush w the flash.
we don't think she'd mind being alone, given her bio parents, but she definitely prefers company. she would HATE dating though. the idea is so far from her mind it's unreal.
we don't think it would be bruce who brings the subject up 2 her tho. it would be like clark or barry, maybe even lara if they're close enough at this point. it would absolutely catch her off guard and she wouldn't know how 2 respond (which she would be ashamed of, bruce taught her better than this)
we're of the opinion that she only thinks of sex and romance in the abstract. she knows that bruce used to play the part of seductive playboy, and she knows that clark and diana didn't will lara into existence, but she doesn't really think about it any further than that. she doesn't give nudity a second thought either. she's seen bruce naked, and bruce has seen her naked, nothing more to it. (she's also seen barry and ray palmer, and she doesn't make a peep abt either) she doesn't really get why people make such a fuss about it.
we also headcanon bruce 2 b aroace as well, so that only reaffirms her worldview. he kissed selina bc that's Just What People Do, and carrie wasn't squeamish abt that either bc that's just Normal Affection. whenever any of the batboys fall for someone she's just like "yeah ok cool did you complete your drills." she knows, logically, that clark and diana are In Love, and that's why they cling to each other so much, but beyond that she doesn't think about it.
HOWEVER. if the conversation of moving out ever came up between them carrie would spiral. she would start to read malcontent in actions that were previously just neutral. bruce doesn't want 2 talk 2day? before, it's just cuz he was tired or overstimulated or was working on a hard case and needed the quiet. now, there's a reason for her to think it's because she's dissatisfied or frustrated with her. it would definitely end in sobbing and bruce having to explain that he obv never valued what was normal anyways, and no he does not want her gone. he is, however, famously bad at communicating so this would take awhile
#ask#marvelous max#carrie kelley#carrie kelly#hoooo...that was a lot of words#we also think that something similar happened w dick (distancing himself from bruce; spending more and more time away)#so when carrie starts doing the same (albeit much later (and also mistakenly but bruce doesnt know that)) he just. resigns himself#if carrie wants to leave he wont stop her (even though the very idea tears him up inside) so its just this huge recursive cycle#until carrie eventually breaks because she Doesn't want to leave and she loves him and the boys so much#and if staying makes her weird; well its far from the worst thing shes been called.#and then they kiss and make up and its happily ever after
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✧ ─ · · KINKTOBER DAY ONE !! · · ─ ✧


I'm a screamer, baby!
Wooden horse - Dazai x Fem!Reader x Chuuya ➻❥ content warnings: Soukoku is torturing the reader, but it's nothing particularly graphic or painful. Non-con to dub-con. no penetration (sorry folks). uhh Dazai is a MASSIVE jerk so slut shaming and degradation. oral (m! receiving), ruined (f!) orgasm ➻❥ word count: 3.4k ➻❥ notes: HOOOO BOY kinktober day one!! let's hope i can keep this going!
"Your body moves instinctively, trying to get away from the man who coiled himself around you only to make yourself bite back a whimper as pain shoots through the bundle of nerves between your legs. “God- Fuck.” You hiss, sight blurred with unshed tears. The wood rubbed so painfully against your cunt, but you just knew that Dazai was right, for better or for worse. You were getting wet."
“You know, I really didn’t want to torture someone so cute. Ah, but life is unfair, isn’t it?” His boyish laugh cut through the air, interweaving with the thick tension of the basement. He stood over you, blocking what little light there was from hitting your eyes. The man in front of you didn't look very old, maybe around eighteen, but his eyes sunk deep like that of a soldier who watched hundreds of men die. “Oh well. You know what to do, Chuuya.”
You couldn’t move. You had woken up deep in the bowels of some building unfamiliar to you. It’s warm, wherever you are. Uncomfortably so. The air is thick and hard to breathe, as if you were trapped in a room with a thousand other people. Your head ached and a deep, lethargic pain drummed through your limbs. Even through pulsing and blurring vision, you saw a soft orange light off in the distance. Then, the stench of old blood followed. The smell is wretched and it’s deep, as if corpses have been permeating in this room for centuries.
It's only then, at the call of his name, that your attention gets drawn to the third person in the room. Notably shorter than the one closest to you, he leans against the wall with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. Chuuya looks up as if only beginning to pay attention when spoken to.
“Chuuya!” Dazai- as he had introduced himself a few moments ago- chides with a laugh. A sharp and shrill noise more similar to the bark of a hyena or the sob of a child. “Don’t tell me you weren’t listening? Dogs are supposed to be loyal, you know!”
“Shut it, bastard!” Chuuya snaps as he yanks the lit cigarette from his lips, the smoke billowing out from the corners as it loops through the air. “For all your stupid talk about me being the dog, you sure do a lot of yapping yourself, Dazai!”
Chuuya pushes himself up from the wall, cigarette being dropped to the floor and snubbed out beneath his boot. Soon, Dazai isn't alone in towering over your bound form. In the momentary reprieve of their spat, your eyes fall downward to your binds. Only in your panties, the rope is free to gnaw into your exposed flesh as it holds your hands behind your back and your shins to the back of your thighs.
“Now, now…” Dazai coos, wagging his finger at Chuuya. “We have an interrogation to conduct, dear Chuuya! We can't leave a guest waiting, after all.” Faster than you can blink, their attention is back onto you. Nails dig into the fat of your cheeks as Dazai forces your head up so your eyes meet his. “You haven’t been very cooperative so far, so we’ll have to take more drastic means, okay?” His voice drawls, curling at the end into something sickeningly sweet. “Chuuya.”
This time, Chuuya moves without hesitation. Strong arms hoist you up, throwing you over his shoulder. It takes one nod from Dazai to send Chuuya walking in the correct direction. No longer blinded by the light seeping in from above, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the lingering darkness of the rest of the room. Blackness hid in the corners like ink spilled on parchment, thick and oppressive. Momentarily, all you could see were the vague shapes of whatever was in the room. As Chuuya stepped forward, you were able to see everything clearly. Nearby was a cart. Simple, sleek, and unassuming. But then you saw the glint of metal. On that cart were a large variety of knives and blades. From a small scalpel to a cleaver. Pliers, nail guns, and even drills.
“No-!” You stumble over your words, voice gravelly and foreign to your ears as mindless pleads spill from your lips. Your head throbbed and ached like you had been beat over the head. The panic that had yet to come to you before started to ebb into your body. Slowly, it drew itself away like the ocean just prior to a tsunami before coming back tenfold, clawing and tearing its way through your body. “Don’t-!”
A quickened heart rate made the throbbing in your head worsen, pounding like the thrums of an earthquake. Limbs that trembled in the ropes that tried to hold them still. A cold sweat that made your pathetic form shine beneath the hazy light above as Chuuya effortlessly took you with him. Still, even through your adrenaline, your body remained too weak to do so much as squirm in his arms.
“Easy now.” Dazai’s once harsh expression fades into something similarly sinister, though it tries to mask itself. His toothy grin is just a little too sharp and just a little too wide. “Don’t make this any harder for yourself.”
When Chuuya stopped walking, you couldn’t see what he had led you to at first. You weren’t sure you really wanted to. Though, as it always seemed to, your morbid curiosity won as you slowly lifted your head to look around Chuuya’s side. Dazai stood next to the device like a giddy child excited to present their arts and crafts project, as macabre as that image may be. Whatever it was, it didn’t look like it’d be a pleasant experience. A wooden contraption, meeting in the middle to form a point, through the tip had been rounded ever so slightly.
“This beauty here is-!” Dazai starts, and though you can’t see Chuuya’s face, you are able to feel the irritation in his tense body. “A wooden horse! Made by the Spanish, likely to punish those who didn’t follow Christianity. They’d force the victim to sit on this bad boy, tie weights to their feet and have them just endure the pain of their genitals being crushed against the wood!” Dazai smiles, much similar to that of a gameshow host. At your increasingly petrified look, Dazai laughs once more. “Luckily for you, this one doesn’t have spikes! Chuuya, if you’d do the honor.”
Now that Dazai is done with his happy-go-lucky farce, Chuuya hauls you over his shoulder once more and settles you over the top of the wooden horse. Though not necessarily agonizing, the rub of the hardwood against your pelvis was deeply uncomfortable, especially as it had the entire weight of your body working against you with nothing but the thin material of your panties to protect your cunt.
You shift awkwardly, wincing as your weight shifts away from your clit, instead letting the dulled tip rub awkwardly between your lips. “I-I don’t…” Sweat beads at your forehead. With your legs bound and your arms tied behind your back, every one of your limbs was useless to you. Each breath, each shudder kept shifting your weight, moving the pressure from your clit to your labia.
It’s that slow type of pain, one that starts as a discomfort until it makes your heart race and you have to take in sharp gasps of air. Seconds pass, each one letting the discomfort bloom into something sharp and stabbing.
“Now, now…” Dazai slinks up to your side, his grin never falling from his face as his hands settle on your waist. “I’m sure a girl like you should be used to something hard rubbing up against you…” He snickers, degrading words falling from his lips like poison. “I mean, I’m just surprised you can still feel anything down there, with how many men I’m sure you’ve let bend you over…”
When Chuuya smacks him over the head, Dazai just whines, the hit not deterring him in the slightest as bandaged hands snake up your torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands are cold, letting your uncomfortably warm body jump at the sharp contrast as they cup your tits. “What? Come on, Chuuya…! She’s getting wet and she’s making cute noises! She likes it, don’t you, girl?”
A pitiful whine escapes your lips as his nimble fingers tug at your sensitive nipples. Your back arches, desperate to get away from him, but unable to escape his grasp. Dazai’s hot breath brushes against your ear as his eye trails from your chest to your face. Cold air brushed against your exposed skin, only to get wafted away with his warm breath. “That’s right… Good girl… Does it hurt? Good.” Dazai coos into your ear as frustrated tears well up in your eyes.
Your body moves instinctively, trying to get away from the man who coiled himself around you only to make yourself bite back a whimper as pain shoots through the bundle of nerves between your legs. “God- Fuck.” You hiss, sight blurred with unshed tears. The wood rubbed so painfully against your cunt, but you just knew that Dazai was right, for better or for worse. You were getting wet.
“A masochist, huh?” Dazai purrs, sounding far too excited at the revelation. “Good… That makes things easier for us, then.”
Chuuya stood off to the side, his eyes affixed to the ground as the scene played out before him. He wasn’t uncomfortable with torture, hasn’t been for some time at the very least. Chuuya had watched over Dazai’s interrogations dozens of times before- watched nails get ripped off, sinews torn, teeth pulled out. But, something about this specific situation felt…weird to him. Dazai’s a creep, Chuuya reasons in his head. He can’t really be surprised that Dazai’s taking the opportunity to assault a pretty girl.
Still, Chuuya chose to watch until his eye caught Dazai’s once more. Often, the two of them didn’t need words to communicate, so Chuuya knew what Dazai wanted immediately.
When Chuuya’s hands rested on your waist, Dazai’s lecherous grin widened. He rested his chin on your shoulder as he tugged at your puffy nipples, watching Chuuya’s cheeks flush as he grinds your hips against the wooden horse harder.
This time, you couldn’t suppress your wail. It felt like your nerves were being electrocuted, a strong buzzing, burning feeling bullied its way up your spine, singeing every atom in its wake.
“There we go, Chuuya. Usually, you’re more excited to take part in our interrogations.” Dazai sighs, making his partner grit his teeth.
“Shut it, fuckface. This isn’t shit.” Your clit feels like it’s getting rubbed raw, your pelvis hitting the wood painfully.
“Oh yeah? Chuuya isn’t getting all hot and bothered, watching a cute girl writhe and moan in pain?” His nails dig into your nipples, the overstimulating feelings making tears well up in your eyes. “ ‘Cause you know what I think? I think Chuuya is getting off on this just as much as this cutie is.”
Chuuya snarls like a rabid dog, though he doesn’t respond to the provocation further than sinking his nails into the fat of your hips- surely leaving crescent-shaped bruises for the next day. “Just- fuck.” The redhead hisses, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. “Just tell the fucker everything you know and this’ll all be over, okay?”
Your head swam, earlier with the drumming pain of being knocked unconscious and now with sharp agony as you gasp, desperate for any reprieve. “I-I don’t-!” Your breath comes to you in sharp strikes, lungs heaving as you try to inhale. Everything feels muddied as you try desperately to sort through your words. “I don’t know anything, really-!”
Dazai sighs, rough bandages scratching along your exposed flesh. “You want to extend this, huh?” He sighs. “Poor thing can’t think straight, even when she isn’t getting fucked. It’s a little pathetic, really. This is nothing, and you’re already blubbering like a child?” Your breath catches in your throat and your whole body is shaking pitifully, and his wide smirk borders on uncanny as his nails dig into your soft chest, threatening to draw blood. “Or maybe you’re crying because you like it? Is that it? Have you been fucked so much that even being tortured feels good to you?”
“No! God, fuck!” You hiss, whines and cries spilling from your lips uselessly as Chuuya continues working your hips against the wood. The worst, most humiliating part is that you can feel your core throb with each push and pull of your hips. Dazai is right, you hiccup. You’re being tortured by the Port Mafia for information you just don’t know and you like it.
Your pitiful noises are shut up by Dazai as he slides two of his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the back of your tongue, making you gag around them. “There we go. Nice and quiet. Now, listen to me. Whether you know it or not, you’re privy to some sensitive information.” Still hovering over your shoulder, he nudges your cheek with his as he whispers into your ear. “You stumbled across one of our enemies' dealings last night and we just need to know exactly what you saw. It’s really not that hard, darling. Either you tell us what we want to know, or we hand you over to that ratty little street gang and who knows what they’d do to a pretty thing like you.”
Your tears threaten to fall as he takes his fingers out of your mouth, the spit connecting them to their lips with a thin string as the movement makes you gag. “Damn it!” You sob, the saliva slipping past your lips. “I don’t know! I didn’t see anything!”
This time, Chuuya is the one to sigh- Dazai’s playful frustrations seemingly seeping over to the other man as well. Since the moment Dazai had ordered him, Chuuya’s hands had not stopped grinding your cunt against the wooden structure, making sure he aimed for the most sensitive area. “We don’t have all day, girl.” Chuuya hisses as you sputter.
“Now even Chuuya is getting fed up with you… He’s right, though. We could leave you here while we both go do more important things.” Dazai hums, keeping a watchful eye on Chuuya. “Leave your poor little clit swollen and needy, so desperate for relief for hours. All you have to do is remember just a few tiny details for us. It’s really not that hard, pretty girl.”
And then, the thought of being left alone with this stabbing pain that eats through your pelvis and vulva, is finally what makes the dam break. You wail, wrenching your head to the side as tears fall down your cheeks. Heart wrenching sobs echo through the Port Mafia’s basement not for the first time and certainly very far from the last. No matter how hard you try to formulate sentences, pleas and ‘I don’t know’s spill from you like a broken record. Because you really don’t know. You didn’t go walking around at night, you didn’t walk across some shady drug dealing or arms exchange! From the moment you woke up here, you’ve had no clue what either of these men are talking about!
As you can’t see his face, Dazai doesn’t even bother faking his facial expression as he does with his tone of voice. He looks overjoyed with the tears that run down your cheeks, smudging whatever makeup you may have been wearing the night prior. His dark eyes gleam with something sadistic- something so downright vile that even Chuuya pauses his movements for a second.
“Fine. Chuuya, you know what to do.” He lets go of you, slinking around Chuuya’s side and grabbing onto his shoulders to whisper in the redhead’s ear. “If she doesn’t remember, we’ll have to make her remember. I know you like watching her squirm just as much as I do.” He smirks, his eyes falling to the tent in Chuuya’s pants. “Maybe she’ll decide to talk after you make her take care of the little problem she caused.” Dazai snickers to himself, making Chuuya fluster and growl at him.
“Fucking bastard…” Chuuya mumbles to himself, finally letting go of your hips and allowing the momentary reprieve before his nails dig into your scalp instead. Using his hand, he forces you to bend at an awkward angle with your body still being supported by the wooden horse but your head being nearly eye level with his crotch. The aching of your spine is enough to muffle the noise of his belt coming undone until it’s far too late.
His dick is pretty, maybe about five and a half inches, but God, is it thick. The tip is red and already weeping precum, letting it pearl and drip down the bottom. You’re given only a few seconds to gawk before Chuuya hooks his gloved thumb into your mouth and pulls your jaw open.
His length is just enough to prod at the back of your tongue each time he pulls your head toward him. Chapped lips wrap around the tip easily, though they begin to strain ever so slightly as you hit the thickest part of the spit slicked cock. Chuuya doesn't care much as his fingers dig into your hair, pushing his hips flush against your face and into your hot throat. Your hands, bound behind your back, strain and clench instinctively but are unable to break from the rope. Chuuya’s strong hands bring your head back and forth, mercilessly letting you sputter and choke on his cock. All the while, he stares down at your tear streaked cheeks, muttering and cursing Dazai beneath his breath.
“Hah…” Dazai puffs out, his own cheeks heating up at the sight. “What a brute Chuuya is, treating a lady like that…” His teasing words only serve to aggravate Chuuya further, making him fuck your throat even rougher. That, of course, is exactly what Dazai wanted to see. Slowly, his hand comes to wrap around your throat, squeezing just so he could feel the way Chuuya’s length forced you to choke.
“Shit-” Chuuya takes in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Don’t you dare let go, jackass. That feels perfect.” He groans as he feels his balls tighten up, releasing a gushing load of cum into your throat. As you choke, you can only let out a muffled groan as you go dizzy at the pressure and deprivation of air. You swallow Chuuya’s thick cum, desperately trying to not heave as the white ropes fight their way down your esophagus. “Good… Good fuckin’ girl. You’re perfect, take it. Just like that…”
As he pulls away, leaving you to cough up everything Chuuya spilled down your throat, you’re pitifully aware of the longing ache between your legs left untouched and unsatisfied. It felt like all the veins in your head were pounding with such force that they were about to burst. All the air in your lungs seemed to evade you, leaving you breathless despite the oxygen that surrounds you.
Your back aches and your clit has been rubbed raw against your underwear. Though, even that torment doesn’t seem enough for Dazai because the moment Chuuya lets go of your hair, Dazai swoops in like a vulture. He pulls your head back just enough that you’re able to meet his eyes once more.
“There we go… Wasn’t so bad, was it, darling? Even if you didn’t get to finish. Though, I’m sure-” He dabs the sweat off of your forehead. “You’d like for this to all be over. So I’ll say this one final time. What. Do. You. Know?” His voice drops, the echo of the dingy basement adding a certain inhuman quality to it, making his voice sound like it was ringing out of hell itself.
“I don’t—” you hiccup. “I du-dunno what to tell you—I dunno what you want—” Your tired, bleary eyes blink at him, any indignant spirit you may have had long since disappeared. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about!” Your voice cracks, thick with unshed tears.
“Hmm. Maybe we really do have the wrong person after all.” Dazai considers it after a moment, voice painfully playful and nonchalant. Dazai drops your head as he turns to look at Chuuya, whose face is still flushed as he tucks his soft dick back into his pants. “I mean, if that’s the case… Then this whole interrogation has been a total bust, huh?”
Chuuya sighs when Dazai gives him another look. Briefly, Chuuya looks at you oddly, eyes brimming with a type of compassion that seemed impossible for someone who had just helped assault you. Even then, as he avoids your eyes, he picks you up and drops you back to the floor.
You grunt, relieved of the pain between your legs, even though the back of your head smacks against the concrete as a result. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Dazai starts, hovering over you like he had done just thirty minutes ago. “This has been fun, really. But we don't need anymore from you if you really don’t have anything to tell us.”
Two clicks of metal, a bang, and everything goes dark.
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Anniversary To Remember
RP / story written with @tbgblr2 Thanks for taking on the challenge of this idea and my attempt to find an inconvenient birth location that hadn’t been written before. (9.5k words)
“Wha… NO!” you snapped as you looked at the sign in front of us.
“Please?” I asked, with my best doe eyed expression. “I booked it specially for us last year… I know things have changed, but it's perfectly safe.”
“I’ll fall through.” You groan, admittedly giggling at the thought.
“No you won't, they’re not like the old days with wicker baskets, they’re proper, metal structures designed to hold 10 times our combined weight.” I retorted.
It was our second wedding anniversary today. When we discussed it last year, the day after our one year anniversary, it sounded like a great way to celebrate our second. We were going on a hot air balloon ride over the city into the countryside and staying for a romantic meal together with a night in a log cabin to follow.
Only our desires got the better of us, and here we were looking at the sign for the balloon place with you holding your hands under your blossoming belly – 9 months of it.
You had forgotten all about it with all the baby commotion, but when I pulled up to the venue near the airport, it all came flooding back.
“The doctor said you weren’t due for another week, and this will be the last chance we can do something crazy like this before the baby comes. It makes lots of sense to do it now and cross it off our bucket list… plus I can’t get a refund.” I tried to reason with logic.
You shook your head. “I think my belly is almost the size of that balloon the way I feel.” Despite your protest you’re clearly thinking about it and, warming up to the idea, you eventually smile at me.
“That’s my girl” I grin “Don’t worry, it’s only 3 hours”
~•~
I roll my eyes but my lips pull into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. Here’s hoping we can both fit in there.” I joke, rubbing the swell of my heavy stomach.
Leaving the house was the last thing I wanted to do today, and taking a romantic hot air balloon ride? Complete madness. But you were just so excited, this was something you’d always wanted to do for as long as I’d known you. And those doe eyes, I really couldn’t say no.
As we stood and waited for the stewards to set up the balloons, I grimaced at the twinge flaring in my back.
“Oof-” I huff out, and attempt to hold up my bump that’s weighing heavy on my hips and cramping my spine.
“Baby kicking you in the ribs again?” You ask, noticing my expression.
“No… it’s just really heavy. Hoooo- I’ll be glad when this pregnancy is over.”
“Not long left to go sweetie. Here, let me try something.” You stand behind me, arms snaking my waist, and you lift up the large bump containing our baby. My head falls back against you with relief. “That feels wonderful.” I murmur, enjoying the momentary feeling.
After a couple of minutes of respite, you gently let go and the weight returns to my pelvis and I groan softly.
“Are you sure this is safe?” I ask, taking another deep breath, rubbing my belly subconsciously. “I’m not sure I’m up for this…”
~•~
“It’s the safest thing in the world” came the voice across the way. One of the representatives of the balloon company came striding up and shook my hand. “How can I help?”
I picked up my phone and scrolled through to our online voucher. “I’m here for our booking?” I asked, showing the details to the man who approached.
“Ahh!” came the reply. “You’re here to fly. Got your transport right over here. Flying it myself today. Names Jimmy. I couldn’t help but overhear the discussion earlier, let me tell you, kids are the best thing in the world, and once you’re up in the air, you’re going to have stories to tell them to get them to sleep for years to come. Just checking…” he sounded slightly unsure “are you safe to fly in your condition?”
“I have the medical certificate here, got it last week.” I announced. Jimmy looked it over.
“Good all seems to be in order, if you’ll follow me… our chariot awaits!” Jimmy was enthusiastic, I’ll certainly give him that.
~•~
I was glad when Jimmy directed us further across the field, I needed the opportunity to walk off the cramp rippling my stomach. The braxton hicks had been happening on and off today, which wasn’t particularly unusual, but I didn’t want to tell you as I knew you’d only worry. I didn’t want to ruin this once in a lifetime experience for you.
My eyes widened when I saw the basket we’d be riding in; it was huge and a lot taller than I anticipated. It was higher than my waist.
“Erm… how am I going to get in that?” I ask uncertainly.
Jimmy produced a stepping stool, presumably he was used to getting people in and out the large basket but perhaps never someone quite this pregnant before.
~•~
It took a few false starts, with you stepping on, trying to get your leg over the top, giving up, repositioning, trying again and again, but eventually you were able to use my shoulder as support as I lifted you up over the edge of the basket. “Maybe I should have gotten in first and lifted you over?” I suggested, as I scrambled in behind you.
You huffed out a breath as you smiled “I am in no condition to be lifted thank you!”
It was quite roomy all things considered. There was a small cabin to one side where the pilot could sit and do his thing without directly interfering with us. I looked over and saw the laptop computer affixed to a small tray against the wall.
Our area was open sided, exposed to the elements, but thankfully it was a nice day and aside from higher winds when we got up to a decent height, we were expecting clear views and plenty of lasting memories.
We cuddled together as Jimmy announced he was lighting the burners – the whoosh of the gas and the heat of the flames announced we were getting ready to go. I hugged you from behind and as there was a quick lurch from the balloon lifting off the ground I felt your usually soft belly harden under my fingers. “What was that?” I whispered to you.
~•~
“What was what?” I reply casually, keeping my eyes forward at the ground that was slowly disappearing beneath us.
You say my name with a hint of a scolding, knowing I knew exactly what you were referring to. My belly was still contracting under your fingers and I could see in your eyes that you could feel it too.
“It’s nothing, just another braxton hicks that’s all. Don’t worry. Look at this amazing view” I try to distract you “we’re already so high.”
~•~
I calm a little as I feel the tension ease around your middle. Taking your hand in mine we walked over to the edge of the basket. We spend a good 5 minutes with the wind ruffling our hair as we stare out over the city. “There's our house!” I excitedly point out into the distance. “There’s your parent’s place. Oh and mine.” I’m lost in the giddy enjoyment of this, holding your hand tight and don’t notice your grip tightening and tightening more on mine as the next contraction starts to grip your middle.
“If we need to get down, how do we do that?” you asked Jimmy.
“Sorry, nothing much we can do now until we’re outside the city. Nowhere clear to land. Figure we need about 2 hours minimum with this wind speed. Afraid we can’t just turn these things around and head home.” He was smiling but didn’t even look up at you as he responded, he was too focused on twisting the knobs on the gas bottles to get the mixture right and tapping his route onto the laptop to let air traffic control know where we were heading.
I turn back around and grasp you around the waist – your bump pressed in tight against me as I cuddle you close to me. I don’t notice the strained tension that had gripped it a few moments before. Kissing you I whisper “Happy anniversary. Here’s to lots of years and lots of babies!”
~•~
“Lots of babies eh? Let’s see how we get on with this one first before you start planning for a whole football team.” I shift my hips subtly side to side, trying to not think about just how low the baby felt in my pelvis.
“You were right; it is really magical up here. You can see the whole city.” I say wandering as much as I can in the small space, needing to move, looking out at every angle towards the horizon. The sun was shining brightly illuminating the tiny buildings below, clouds littered the perfectly blue sky, but it was the silence that made the experience otherworldly. It was so quiet up here. Just the sounds of the breeze and the occasional whoosh of the gas canisters keeping our balloon in the air.
I ended up leaning against the adjacent wall of the basket to you, each of us looking out at the impressive scenery, but I’m pulled out of the experience but a forceful contraction squeezing and tightening my belly. My breath hitches, pain pressing more urgently now through my body. I try to steady my breathing, long deep breathes through the pain, that’s what they say don’t they? My fingers grip the padded railing and my head dips slightly. Stay calm, just breathe, I tell myself. This might not be labour.
~•~
You suddenly feel my hand rubbing your back. “You ok?” I ask, concern in my voice looking at your white knuckles gripping the side. Your eyes dart between my face and what I’m looking at, suddenly releasing your grip.
“Yeah, fine. Just baby’s really low. Probably just the change in gravity because we’re so high.”
I caught my laugh, sniggering through my lips. “No, you’re just very, very pregnant.” My hands grip either side of your hips and press, the moan escaping your lips echoed out across the wide open air.
I lean in close and whisper so only you can hear “Just breathe through it, we’ll be on the ground in a couple of hours.”
~•~
“You know?” I whisper my reply, turning my head slightly to find you nodding, a grin twitching your lips. “Damn, I thought I’d been more- hooo-subtle.”
Slowly, I turn around to face you, holding on to your biceps as I find myself needing both the physical and emotional support.
“Ooohhhh- why now?” I quietly moan against your chest.
“Shhhhhh it’s okay.” You whisper into my hair, rubbing my back before pressing deep into my hips again. “How long do you think you’ve been in labour for?” You ask.
“Mmmm- I’m not sure. My body’s always aching and cramping these days, I- I didn’t think anything of it….” I reply softly, my breath hitching again with another contraction. My heavy rounded belly is squashed between us and I’m almost certain you’d be able to feel it through your shirt, tensing and contracting against your stomach.
~•~
The next contraction builds without warning as you grab hold of me tight, your fingers digging into my shoulders as you press your forehead into my chest, desperately resisting the urge to scream, knowing it would likely cause chaos with our pilot. My hands grip into the small of your back and you press back into them, you’re suddenly bent at the waist, your feet spread, hips swaying side to side as you groan quietly into me.
My forehead rests against you and to the outside world - or specifically Jimmy at this moment - it just looks like we’re embracing and enjoying the moment.
Suddenly there’s a splash between your legs and you find your dress is sticking to your legs. You go wide eyed. There’s no mistaking it now…
~•~
“Oh my god…” my voice is barely a whisper as I stare up at you in shock. Your expression mirrors my own.
“Erm… is everything alright guys?” Jimmy asks in an upbeat tone that feels alien to the both of us right now.
“Not really no…” I say to our bewildered pilot, before turning back to you. “Honey, I think I need to sit down.”
Your hand is around my waist as you walk me over to the small cushioned bench sitting one end of the hot air balloon basket, you steady me as I awkwardly lower myself down.
“Are you okay here for a minute while I update our pilot on what’s happening?” You ask quietly, one hand affectionately rubbing my stomach.
“Mmmm- yeah… I think so. Thanks.” I reply and watch you walk over to Jimmy to presumably tell him that I’m in labour.
Everything feels different now I’m sat down; my hips ache, my pelvis feels full and my stomach seems to sit further out forcing itself to sit between my thighs. The baby had definitely dropped and was making its arrival known.
Why now… why here… I thought to myself, this baby has a really warped sense of timing. I closed my eyes and rubbed slow circles around my stomach. I tried to stay calm and reassure myself that everything would be okay, but my broken waters continuing to leak from me served as a constant reminder of my advancing labour. My heart raced and it felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath through the rising panic…
~•~
I look Jimmy straight in the eyes. “We need to get down. Now… if not sooner.”
He shook his head “I wasn’t lying when I said we couldn’t. You guys knew the issues before you got on. I’ll put an SOS out so the medical facilities will meet us when we land, but it’s going to be around 2 hours.”
“Shit” I cursed under my breath, as you groaned loudly, the first vocalisation of a rapidly accelerating labour.
I dashed to you and skidded down to my knees, inadvertently sliding through your amniotic fluid in the process, cursing all the way. I grasp your hands as you grip mine - hard - as your eyes look at me pleading, struggling to catch your breath.
I talk you down, calming whispering tones as you catch your breath and groan through the rest of the contraction.
Jimmy struggles putting 2 and 2 together as he asks “what’s happening?”
“We might well be pushing out a baby at 2000 feet if you can’t get this thing on the ground” I summarise.
“Fuck” came the blunt reply from our pilot.
~•~
We stay in that position for the next few contractions - offering me your hands to hold or shoulders to squeeze. Meanwhile, Jimmy is nervously pressing buttons on his map and contacting the base on the ground, trying to find any nearby suitable location to land - his laidback persona starting to fray at the edges.
“Hooo- the baby feels so low…” I huff out after a particularly fierce contraction. “I don’t think… I can sit anymore. Feels like I’m sitting on their head. Need to- oof- stand. Help me up?” I ask holding out my arms.
Your large hands hook under my arms and slowly aid me to standing. My balance is thrown off, the baby even lower, and I stumble a little but you’re quick to react and hold me steady.
“How are you doing love?” You ask me with concerned eyes.
“Okay… as well as I can b-be in the circumstances.” I attempt to joke, motioning to the basket and the open skies around us and the ridiculous situation we’ve found ourselves in.
“I guess of all places to labour, this has definitely got the best views.” You tuck a sweaty strand of hair behind my ear. You’re barely even looking at where we are - eyes focussed solely on me.
“I’m sorry… I ruined this experience for you.” I murmur quietly to you, feeling guilty that you were now missing out on enjoying this bucket-list activity.
“What? Don’t be silly. You’re having my baby, there is literally nothing more important to me than the two of you.” You kiss my forehead and pull me closer.
Before I can respond another contraction steals any words I could say and I’m left with only deep groans coming from my mouth.
The pain and pressure rages through my very core, my hands scramble to hook themselves around your neck as my hips sway and my knees bounce, pulling myself downwards against your sturdy frame, releasing a low moan against your chest.
When the contraction fades and my ability to speak returns I ask “do you think we should maybe start… hoooo… timing them?”
~•~
“Let’s give it a go” I say, glancing at my watch. At this point I’m just playing along as I’d been timing them since I first realised you’d been having contractions. We focus on each other through the course of the next few minutes not even staring out at the view at this point - you’re deep breathing, head buried in my chest and my hands roaming your body trying to rub - anywhere - to make the pain go away.
As the next contraction builds bringing you back into your previous position, hanging low off me and moaning loud through the worst of it, I’m counting in my head. The numbers reach high enough that I just give up as you finally come out the other end and look at me.
“So you know in the birthing class when they say come in when they’re less than 5 minutes apart and last longer than a minute?”
You nod, signalling me to go on.
“I think we should have been there for quite some time now. That was 3 minutes from the last one and lasted at least a minute - lost count after 50 seconds”
Jimmys face, watching all this from afar went white.
I turned and noticed. “Hey you said you’d had babies before. Any tips for this bit? All my knowledge is from videos at this point?”
He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t handle it. Seen my wife in stirrups, seen her bulge as the head came out and I passed out. Came to as she had a baby to her chest and 2 nurses fanning me looking on concerned”
I shook my head. “Great…” I wasn’t sure how much of that you had took on in you slight state of delirium, but either way, the next contraction was building and you held on tight.
~•~
On learning that we should already be at the hospital by now with how close together the contractions were coming, I wiggled out of your hold and moved away. Needing space… to process, to not be touched.
“No…. That can’t- can’t be right. Hoooo-“ I breathed heavily, hands gripping the edge of the basket in the absence of you. Unsure if it was the increasing pressure or the very real possibility that I was going to have this baby in a damn hot air balloon, my brain went into complete denial.
“Babe, I’m sorry. We can time some more to be sure, but this baby is definitely coming, sooner than we want.” You stand next to me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder which I shrug off with a gruff. I know this isn’t your fault, just a case of really unfortunate timing, but the constant pressure and pain has me taking my frustrations out at you.
“Fuck… ohhhh my back….” I whimper, leaning over the railing and jutting my hips backwards. The baby must be pressing on a nerve that has my spine screaming.
Despite snapping at you and shrugging off any contact, your hands grasp my hips and you press your thumbs deep into pressure points in my lower back. The relief is instant, pain reducing to a level that didn’t make me want to vomit, and I exhale a moan into my elbows.
“Did we- find anywhere- else to- land?” I pant out.
You turn to Jimmy, who also heard my laboured question.
“Yes I did, it’s sooner than our original landing spot, but with the wind speed and direction we’re travelling… erm it’s still going to be at least another hour and half…” Jimmy admitted to us.
~•~
“I don’t think she’s going to last an hour and a half!” I rant at Jimmy while rubbing your back. He looks at me with an apologetic look in his eyes but didn’t say anything.
“Is there anything in here that we could use? A first aid kit at least?” I ask.
Jimmy digs under the shelf where his laptop sits and pulls out a tiny first aid kit. Leaving you for just a moment I take the first aid kit from Jimmy and open it - inside a small roll of gauze, some tape and a pair of round ended scissors.
“No idea if these will even be sharp enough to cut the cord… not that we could tie it off properly if we could.” I at least sounded like I knew what I was talking about though inside I was panicking at this point.
“Quick…” you groan as the next contraction builds and I rush over to hold your hand, feeling you squeeze tight.
~•~
I take your hand, gripping hard, and twist around towards you curling into your embrace. I hang on to you as the contraction takes hold, the pain sharp and the pressure constant. You notice the sounds I’m making with each contraction are getting deeper, now lowing instinctually with every peak.
A minute slowly passes but the contraction doesn’t fade. I’m still shifting and groaning in your arms.
“Hoooooo- No…. Oh no no no…” I suddenly whimper, panting erratically.
“What is it?” You ask worriedly.
I lift my head up, seeing the apprehension in your eyes. “I- hooohooohoo- no…. not now….”
“Baby, talk to me. I need to know so I can help you.” You plead, cupping my face.
“I think… ooohh- I think I need to push…” I say as I bite my bottom lip, breathing heavily through my nose.
~•~
It was my turn for my face to go white. “Now? No! God, no… not now!” I pleaded to the open air around us. You weren’t listening, or at least not responding, deep breaths being sucked in and puffed out to try and regain a moment of calm before the contractions happen all over again.
“You can’t push. No one has checked you… are you dilated? You might injure yourself. You have to wait until we land!” I’m rambling at this point. Instinctively I know there’s nothing we can do to stop it and it happens when it happens but the only thing going through my head is ‘we’re all alone up here.’
“Please baby do your best. You can’t push… please” I plead.
~•~
The contraction eventually begins to fade, and taking with it the urge to push. I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips hearing your string of panicked questions and your flustered demeanour. Placing a hand to your chest, I calmly say “Honey, breathe.” Echoing the words you’ve previously said to me. “It’s okay, it’s passed now.”
“Oh god, you scared the life out of me.” You pull me closer, wrapping your arms around my waist. “So… you’re doing okay now?”
“Yes, I’m okay now, we both are.” I reassure you, holding the swell of my stomach that’s nestled between us.
You crouch right down so you’re eyelevel with the bump, both your hands splayed wide across its surface. Looking up at me over the swell you mutter “Can’t believe we’re going to meet our baby.”
I giggle, placing my hands over yours. “I know, hopefully not too soon though.” My breath suddenly hitches with a sharp inhale. “Oooohhhh here comes another one. Quick, hold me-” I manage to spit out before the contraction steals my speech and buckles my knees.
~•~
You sink down to your knees, your head nestling into the crook of my neck as you flop your arms over either of my shoulders and leave them draped down my back. I feel your fists clench and release through the bouncing of your forearms as you let out a groan, muffled by the fabric of my tee shirt.
I whisper close to your ears “You’re doing great, keep on doing that, resist that urge to push.”
I feel your head bobbing into me, nodding as much as you could, not able to give me a verbal response.
Your knees are spread wide and I can only hope at this time that your stance being wide doesn’t foreshadow anything happening between them.
I glance to the side to see Jimmy moving towards us to push past my back. He was fiddling with a few ballast bags on the side of the basket, pulling them in and pushing them to the opposite side of the basket.
He didn’t say anything, but after shoving the bags over the other side, re-securing their fixings and letting them out over the edge he went back to the gas controls.
Suddenly we felt the unmistakable feeling of descent, the slight jump in the pit of our stomachs.
“Are we nearly there?” You asked. The contraction was ebbing away and your voice was croaky, only barely loud enough to hear.
“Sorry” came Jimmy, and once more he sounded genuinely apologetic. “We need to drop down a bit to catch a different wind current to get to the new destination. Still got an hour or so.”
Your head dug back into my shoulder. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
~•~
“An hour?! Hooooo- I don’t know if the baby is going to wait that long…” I whisper quietly in your ear, not wanting to admit it too loudly as that would make it real.
“Shhhh, it’ll be okay baby.” You quietly reply as you rub my back. “You’re doing great, keep resisting the urge. It’s not time to push yet…. It can’t be” you added so quietly, whispering to yourself. Hoping.
“The baby feels so so low…ughhh… even without a contraction the pressure… so much pressure.”
“I know darling, but you’ve got this. We’ll be back on the ground before we know it. Just hold on a little bit longer.” You look skyward, pleading to the universe. You really didn’t want to have to deliver this baby at 2,000 feet.
As the balloon dropped to its new level, the basket got caught on a rogue strong gust of wind, jolting everything and everyone inside as it swayed abruptly. With our arms wrapped around each other, we nearly toppled over but managed to stay upright as we both instinctually widened our knees for balance.
“Are you okay?” You ask me, our hearts thumping in shock.
I could only nod as another contraction started not long after the basket steadied itself.
“Jeeze, Jimmy what the hell was that?!” You shout towards our pilot.
“Sorry guys, that was a bit of a rough one.” He joked, readjusting his equipment that had dislodged
Meanwhile the contraction raged through me, every muscle seemingly tense and solid. My hips were screaming, forced apart by the large head barrelling towards my cervix. The pressure… it was too much. My knees were too wide. I couldn’t hold off any longer, I had to push…my body deciding to act of its own accord. Bearing down, a long and low grunt suddenly rattles from my throat against your neck.
~•~
I’d been paying careful attention to your grunts and moans over the past hour or so as concern grew and grew, but the new noises you were making were different. I looked at your face and saw your scrunched up eyes, the blown out cheeks and I suddenly realised.
“No!” I snapped. You didn’t respond. “Don’t push, baby, you can’t. You need to be checked. You know you can’t push until you’re fully dilated. Please… don’t want you to get injured.”
The end of the push came, you opened your eyes. There were tears there, frustration, pain, panic… who knows but all you could answer in response was “I have to push right now!” Soon you’re at it again.
~•~
“Can’t- help- it…mnghhhhhh!” My hands claw at your shoulders, using you to balance as my hips sink lower and my body pushes hard. “Oooohh… I can feel it… baby is moving…down!”
“Shit. Okay, okay.” You try and rationalise and plan, working out what the hell we were going to do now. “Baby, is this it? Is this really happening now?” You ask me.
“Ughhh! I think so… feels very real to me hooo!”
“Then we’ve got to take your panties off. We need to see if you’re fully dilated, if you should even be pushing right now.” Your brows furrow with concern and sympathy with every hitch of breath and groan of pain, knowing this was about to escalate very quickly.
Your hands disappear under my dress and find the dampened fabric of my underwear from my broken waters. You roll them down my thighs but keep them hidden from view beneath my knee-length dress, not wanting to alert Jimmy to what was happening. It was just you and me right now.
“Tell me when this contraction is over, then I can try and see if I can work out how dilated you are.” You say softly, trying to keep me calm and reassured in this far-from-ideal situation.
I nod in understanding, grunting once more in an uncontrollable push before gasping for breath at its end. “Hoooo-hoooo I think it’s passed…” I croak quietly to you.
~•~
I look up to check and see Jimmy occupying himself with his duties, not looking at us. Blowing out my own breath to calm myself I lower you down, so you’re on your hands and knees in front of me.
I stand up and move around behind you. Lifting the back of your dress up, I roll it up to expose your ass, your wide opened legs stretching your panties around your knees.
I let out an involuntary gasp. It’s not lost on you.
“What is it” you gasp. I describe the scene in front of me. Whilst your lips hadn’t yet parted, the baby’s head was definitely bulging, sitting just inside of you. I’d no medical training, but could only presume that we were at the stage where each push had the head begin to show and retreat as you stopped the effort. I explained to you that we were well past the point of needing to check your dilation, and right now we need to get you more comfortable to push… first task will be to get those panties off you so you could open up freely.
I looked up and that’s when I saw Jimmy looking straight at us, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.
~•~
“I hope you’ve got some blankets or something up here Jimmy, cos this baby is going to be born before we reach the ground.” You warn him sternly, snapping him out of his panicked staring.
Ignoring our pilot, you focus your attention back to me - shifting and squirming on hands and knees, the dress still lifted showing just how close the baby was to this world.
“How are you holding up darling?” You ask quietly to me.
“Mhhhh- like there’s a bowling ball stuck in my vagina-” I snap with a gruff.
“Right let’s get those panties off before the next contraction so you’re free to move.”
My hands and knees were planted so heavily on the floor of the basket, I couldn’t move. The idea of raising either of my knees to free my underwear seemed too Herculean a task. You had to manoeuvre around me, holding me steady and pulled the garment free from my legs.
As soon as I was free my knees automatically spread opening up my hips further to ease the unbearable pressure in my pelvis. I know you wanted to move me for the next contraction, but I could already feel it approaching. Pressure was building and building, the baby pushing against my opening. With my ass still on full display I went down to my elbows, my forehead almost kissing the floor with my hips up pointing to the sky, and I succumbed to my instincts and pushed.
You held me steady as I pushed, watching in fascination as the bulge got bigger. The sounds I was making had turned primal, instinctual, and you could tell I had mentally retreated into myself and on the job I had to do.
“Oh my god… I think I can see the head!” You cried out after a forceful push showed the smallest sliver of the baby’s head appear just behind my lips.
~•~
My exclamation caused you to lose your focus, immediately stoping pushing and causing the sliver of the head to slide back in. Biology won out though as you were forced to push again only a few moments later and once more the first glimpse of our baby was clear to see again.
You grunt with relief as the contraction finally passed - with the head slipping back out of view again - but you were buoyed by my enthusiasm.
Jimmy, taking a moment to interrupt with a cough managed “sorry no towels or anything… it’s not intended to be used for ferrying the sick, wounded or I guess labouring mothers to be”
“Help me up” you gasp as you pull on my arms. I move around to grab you under the armpits and heave you up, you dress slipping back down your legs covering your modesty again.
“Here it comes” you grunt as you echo the position you’d been in only a moment ago, your arms under my armpits, one hand holding the other wrist, the other gripping tight to my tee shirt in a balled fist. You planted your legs wide and almost growled with effort as the next contraction ramped up.
~•~
My body trembled against you as I pushed, my arms so tight around you grasping at your clothes. Your frame the only thing keeping me upright, the smell of your aftershave the only thing keeping me from panicking. It was an effort to get up but I needed the gravity, something telling me to stand up, to bring the baby down.
“Oh god…” I moaned out heavily against your neck “I can f-feel the head…” my knees squatting slightly during the push, opening up for the baby to peak through.
But when the contraction was over, and the pushing stopped, the head slipped backwards and I whimpered a sob on your shoulder.
The effort of pushing had dampened the back of my neck and hair with sweat, and beads of it glistened on my forehead. Though it was early evening the sun was still bright and warm in the sky, making my temperature soar. Every pore of my skin seemed to tingle, aggravated by the fabric of my dress. My entire being was overheating. I felt like I couldn’t quite catch my breath; the air too hot, my skin too tacky.
I shifted in your arms, uncomfortable, frustrated. I needed to do something but couldn’t find the words. You noticed me pulling at the hem of my dress and knew what my subconscious was trying to do. Still holding me upright, your hands roamed my back and found the zip of my dress, pulling down, helping to free me from the cotton prison.
~•~
Your eyes opened as I reached down and grabbed the base of your dress, suddenly realising what I was doing. You stretched your arms out, hands placed lightly on my shoulders as my body raised up, pulling the dress with me as I went.
The first thing I noticed was the bump stopped the dress from coming up. I had to tug it a little to get it unstuck. I pulled it up over your breasts and over your head, then releasing it from one arm to the other until it hung loosely from my fist, draping on the floor.
The sigh of satisfaction as you felt the cool breeze rush over your exposed, overheated skin, instantly cooling you was palpable. You were now naked except for your sports bra you had put on this morning for comfort.
You gripped hard on my shoulders again, the next contraction building as you managed to grunt out “that feels so nice… but don’t you dare lose that dress. I need it to get home.”
~•~
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You whispered back to me with a laugh.
I held on tight to you as the contraction took hold; my body pushing, squeezing, opening for the baby.
“Keep going baby, you’re doing wonderfully.” You offered words of encouragement against the moaning I was making in your ear.
“I don’t feel like I’m making any- mnghhh- progress.” I say releasing the push with a huff.
When the contraction had waned I shifted out of your hold a bit. Holding the underside of my low bump I swayed gently, facing outwards towards the stunning horizon, letting the cool breeze wash over my skin in the break I was given.
“How long til we land now?” I dared to ask our pilot, who’d been giving us a wide birth since I started openly pushing.
“We’re getting closer, I’d say just under 45 minutes.” Jimmy answered simply, completely avoiding looking in my direction.
“Do you reckon - hoooo… we’ve got any hope of making it to land before this baby c-comes?” I ask in vain, taking one hand off my bump to hold the side of the basket, my hips shifting round in wide circles.
Your hesitation gives me all the answers I need. Still you reply “Whatever happens babe, you can do this. And I’ll be right by your side.”
“Well you’re not exactly going to go anywhere.” I joke before a contraction suddenly strikes and I hiss through my teeth.
Standing in the a corner of the basket I grasp the padded railing with both hands, gripping the cushioning so hard my knuckles whiten. The baby presses lower and lower and I rock, and groan and push alongside its efforts. My hips jut backwards towards you, my back flat as I lean into the baskets edge, nearly wailing with the efforts of the push.
“Can- can you see… ohhhh…. Is it coming out now? Mghhhhh!!!” I cry out mid-push.
~•~
“I can see it baby, I can see it!” Even against all of my natural instincts to panic I’m getting invested in your progress and can’t help but get excited as things show progress. The bulge between your legs was now significantly bigger than when I had first noticed it, and whenever you were pushing, the head was forming into a genuine teardrop shape, though still not holding its place when you stopped.
“Shit” came the voice from Jimmy. Panicking, expecting to get some bad news, my eyes shoot over to him just to see him staring straight at you, focused clearly on the dark patch between your legs.
“Don’t you dare freak out or feint… there’s 4 of us in this basket relying on you to get us safely on the ground” I admonished. Jimmy in turn shook his head and thanked me, breaking his reverie and focusing back on the laptop.
Focusing back on you, you grunt as you push again. “You’re doing so good baby. I can see the head a lot when you push. Keep focused… if you want, you can reach down when you push and feel it yourself”
~•~
I tentatively release one hand's grip on the barrier, the excitement in your voice making me desperate to feel the baby. But I can’t seem to let go, the effort of pushing is too consuming and I’m scared to let go of the support. I give a loud grunt with a big push, feeling my lips starting to burn with the stretch.
But then it’s over, contraction faded, and I bring myself back up to standing. Feeling more confident without a contraction to let go of the support, I place one of my hands between my thighs and I can feel it; just behind my slightly parted lips is our baby.
“Oh my- wow!” I exclaim, making first contact with our child. “I can feel them, that’s our baby.”
“I know, and you’re doing wonderfully darling. We’ll be meeting them soon” You say, grinning ear to ear and stepping towards me.
“It’s got hair!”
“That’s not surprising, considering the amount you’ve got.” You joke and stroke the thick locks of hair that cascade past my shoulders, tucking wayward strands behind my ear.
“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” I ask, my fingers still delicately stroking the bit of head that’s peaking out.
“I’ve told you I don’t mind. As long as they are healthy and happy.”
“I know, I know…. I’m kinda hoping for a girl though…” I admit.
I feel the next contraction brewing, but I don’t want to remove my hand from my crotch. Instead I back into the corner of the basket, keeping one hand on my baby and the other flying out towards you for support.
My body sinks into a squat when the contraction hits and everything squeezes downwards. I take a big gulp of air and push… hard, feeling the baby’s head inch forward into my palm.
~•~
My hand reaches out to you, your hand on my shoulder and my hand in turn resting just under where your bra strap rests. As you sink down I follow you, ultimately ending on my haunches so I’m eye level with you. Whilst you’re desperate to close your eyes during the push you fight to keep them open and look into my eyes, my smiling demeanour giving you a level of comfort in this trying time. Suddenly I lean forward and place my second hand over yours so we are both cupping your lips. I feel the roundness of your hand as it envelops the bulge there and get in close. “Push!” I urge.
There’s no stopping you, your cheeks are puffed out and your brow is furrowed but you keep your eyes on me. Your mouth is wide and groaning as you make the effort but still we keep that connection.
My hand is pressed outwards as is yours as your lips part and your fingers rub the slick, surprisingly spongy mass slowly making its way out from between your legs.
You suck in your breath as you need a moment to get your strength as I say “again?” and you’re back at it, groaning loud and low, the hand on my shoulder grasping hard.
~•~
It was just you and me at that moment, the rest of the world completely shut out. You and me, together bringing our baby into the world.
My chest heaves with every rasped breath, my breasts resting atop the large pregnant swell that hung between my open thighs. My boobs had gotten bigger as I approached the end of this pregnancy and this bra was the only one that didn’t pinch.
Your eyes light up as we both feel the head sliding forwards into our hands. But the pain is astronomical and I’d lose myself entirely to it if you weren’t beside me right now. The baby fills even more of my palm and I can’t help but cry out “…Hurts…. Burning…” in between my laboured breaths.
The contraction starts to ebb away but I don’t want to lose this progress. It’s almost too much to bear if the baby slides back again now. I give a final long grunt, pushing as hard as I could while the contraction was still present, huffing as I release the push and hoping the baby stays put.
~•~
I watch in awe as I see you put incredible effort into a push, your face both incredibly contorted and at the same time, focused on it’s one task. Your hand moves away from between your legs, batting mine back at the same time. It twists and grabs my fingers, as my eyes sink down to the area that was previously covered.
Your hand squeezes my fingers as you let out a roaring sound, unlike any I’d heard so far. The hand on my shoulder digs in to the point where I’m certain your nails will leave embedded marks, but still my eyes focus between your legs.
In front of my eyes I see your lips spread around the head moving out, red, firey skin moulding outwards, spreading like a petal on a flower. The teardrop shape of the head, expanding outwards.
You gasp. “Burning… burning… burning, hurts” it’s almost incoherent babbling at this time, but whatever you were doing had some positive effect, as once I see your shoulders sag, right there between your legs was the most perfect oval of darkened, matted, soggy hair that I had ever seen.
“You did it baby!” I yell in triumph. That’s when I realised that you weren’t paying attention. It’s clear that at this point, there’s nothing you can do but focus on the ring of fire between your legs. It’s all consuming at this point, your knees are quivering trying not to lose control, your hands are squeezing and digging nonstop. Your eyes are closed and scrunched hard.
Youre gasping “Pull it out! Help me!” There’s nothing I can do at this point but sympathise as you struggle at this most gruelling stage of the process.
~•~
I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t move. I’m entirely lost in this moment; blinded by the pain of being stretched far beyond anything I thought possible. But it was more than just the spreading of my sensitive lips - my hips were wrenched apart, the baby shoved against my pelvis, the nauseating feeling of being so… full. I couldn’t take it.
My body started to tremble, you could feel it beneath the hold you had on my ribs and you could see me shaking in front of your eyes.
“I can’t do this!” I wailed, eyes scrunched and tears leaking past my lashes. “It’s too big! Uhhhh- fuck. Help me.”
“Oh baby…” you whispered, your heart breaking at seeing me in so much pain. “I know, but you are so close. You can do this.”
“I c-can’t!” I sobbed.
“Yes, you can. You are the strongest, bravest woman I have ever met. You can do anything, and you can do this. Just a little bit longer, I promise. Then when the next contraction comes, you push with everything you’ve got, okay? The head is almost here…”
I nod. That’s all I can manage. My head lolls forward, both my hands clawing at your shoulders, my entire body trembling, and we wait. We wait through agonising second after agonising second for the next contraction.
~•~
Soon it’s upon you. “It’s coming” you manage, before gripping me tightly again and dropping your chin down, closing your eyes and giving it all you’ve got.
I watch the oval shape between your legs quiver and a few seconds later start to move. You gasp, taking a breath and start again, still in mid contraction. More movement.
“Go! Go! Go!” I’m chanting, it seems to help. Finally your lips turn white, all blood drained from around them as they are stretched to their widest point.
You gasp and start panting, something primal in your memories from videos we have watched telling you to pant out the last push, and suddenly there’s a rush. You jump. There’s a gush of more fluid. My eyes go wide, and teary, what I’m seeing seems both the most natural thing in the world and at the same time the most unreal thing ever.
Deep in your squat, dangling between your legs, is the back of a baby’s head.
Your hand lets go of mine and reaches down to hold it. You’re bewildered, somewhat exhausted and sore, but you’ve accomplished a major milestone.
~•~
Gasping, my fingers delicately roam the whole circumference of the head that’s now outside of me. “Oh… hi baby.” I say softly to our child.
I look up at you and see the tears in your eyes. “Oh my god… oh my god…” I sob through my smile, not quite able to form any other words through the relief and awe of what’s just happened.
Your hand joins mine, cupping the head together as you lean forward to kiss me. It’s salty with my sweat and tears. “You, are incredible.” You whisper, our foreheads pressed together.
In no time at all, the respite is over and I’m squirming and shifting again in your arms from an approaching contraction. Letting go of our baby’s head my hands brace against my thighs.
“Hooooo- babe, need to move…” I groan, my legs and ankles suddenly protesting against the deep squatting position.
“Do whatever you need to do, where do you want to be?” You ask, trying to second guess what I’d want but also knowing I was acting entirely on natural instinct.
I couldn’t speak, instead my hands used your torso as a ladder - lifting myself up and getting down onto my knees, my feet pointed behind me in a v-shape. I felt instantly more stable, more in, kneeling so close to the floor.
The baby was on its way, its arrival immanent, I could sense it. Some primal instinct in my very DNA unlocked. I needed less physical support while on my knees so my hands released you, instead reaching behind to unclasp my bra. In my haste to remove my final layer of clothing, I forgot where we were for a moment and it was only on seeing your raised eyebrows I realise I’d whipped my bra off and casually thrown it overboard.
~•~
I couldn’t help it. I knew instinctively that I should be looking at you, but something made me follow the trajectory of your discarded underwear as I watched it soar over the side. My eyes followed it over the edge and as I lifted myself up off my haunches back to standing, I noticed the ground was very much closer than what I had expected.
“Jimmy… what’s happening?” I bellow out to our pilot. My brain went ‘he’s fainted, we’re going to crash’ and my natural instinct was to panic, but my eyes were drawn back to you, kneeling on the ground, hands back between your legs supporting the head of our baby. I couldn’t turn and look for him. Thankfully he returned the question with his own shouted answer.
“We’re nearly there. School field is just over there.” Relieved at his response, I briefly turned my head to look at him, to look at where his hand was pointing. I followed the direction and I saw blue lights in the distance. I saw a wide open area, which was the football and athletic fields of a school. I didn’t recognise it, but I knew we were nearly down. Your bra had landed in some unfortunate persons back garden. Might be some explaining to do for the occupants later.
I heard you grunt as my attention was drawn back to you. You looked radiant, like some sort of primal goddess, nude and backlit by the sun. I saw the baby had turned and you had started to push. Your grunts were audible as you pushed your hips forward, opening up the passage for the baby, your hands gently cupping its head.
Another grunt, and the first shoulder was free. A second grunt and the second shoulder. I dashed forward and skidded to the ground, stopping just in front of you with my hands skimming the ground between your legs, and more importantly directly under the baby which was out to its torso.
And with a triumphant yell from you, it flopped down into my hands, slick, covered in vernix, remnants of blood, and flooding my hands with yet more amniotic fluid.
“You did it baby…” I’m almost shocked thinking it’s all over.
~•~
Pure relief flooded through my entire body as the baby slipped into both of our awaiting hands. My mouth was dry, my brain in shock, and I’m only able to mumble “baby… baby…” over and over as I pick up the slippery newborn and immediately bring them to my bare chest. The need to see, to hold, to nurture was completely overpowering.
When the baby made its first gurgling cry against me I thought my heart may explode. I sagged back into the floor, exhaustion taking hold, and stared at the baby in my arms. Their little scrunched up face as they cried, their tiny hands with ten little fingers, their small feet with ten tiny toes. I had to see every inch of our baby, to check they were okay, and when I readjusted them against the curves of my body I announced “It’s a girl!”
You knelt next to me in the corner of the basket, looking over my shoulder totally transfixed and enamoured with our newborn. “You did it baby, I’m so proud of you!” You cupped my head and kissed the side of my face, my cheek, my shoulder, and eventually my lips. You couldn’t stop the emotional wave washing over you at the sight of your wife and newborn daughter beside you, wrapped in your arms.
I couldn’t quite believe it was over - the baby was here. Born in the basket of a hot air balloon. I stared down at our daughter and giggled to myself.
“What is it?” You asked, not able to wipe the beaming smile off your face.
“I can’t believe she’s here. That that just happened. That I just gave birth in a bloody hot air balloon!” The stress from the situation and relief that we were all alright had turned to exhausted hysteria, I simply couldn’t help the laughter.
“I guess she just wanted to make a grand entrance into this world.” You cooed, looking down at the infant already nuzzled against my breast.
“I think she might be a little troublemaker.”
“Just like her mother then.” You teased, kissing me again.
~•~
“Hang on tight” comes a call from Jimmy giving us a few seconds of warning where I grabbed hold of you as the balloon finally touched the ground with a thump. I threw your dress over you to cover your modesty as I got up to walk over and thank Jimmy for how well he had done in outrageous circumstances.
As I saw 2 paramedics dash towards the balloon as the gas valves were cut and the balloon itself started sinking to the ground behind us, I heard you give another groan.
“Baby?” I turn and look at you.
“I don’t know… another contraction.” You replied.
I dashed over. “No, can’t be. We had scans… there was only one baby in there.”
As the first paramedic threw their bag over the side of the basket at vaulted over the top I looked at them pleading.
“I don’t know what’s happening. The baby is born but she’s still having contractions. Is something wrong?”
“Let’s take a look see and figure this out, I’m sure it’s fine” came the professional sounding reply as his partner came on board.
They knelt down and looked you over, checking over the baby and declaring that everything was ok. They took a moment to clamp the baby’s cord, and rubbed your belly a little.
“Ok my dear… this looks good. Give me a good strong push” they instructed.
I gasped “is there another in there? We didn’t know.” The stress of the day was getting to me.
“No sir. Your wife is just ready to pass the afterbirth.” As he said it, he collected the placenta from between your legs and checked it over for completeness. “Well done, looks like this is about as close to a textbook delivery as can be… you know except for flying through the air whilst doing it.”
To say I breathed a sigh of relief would be an understatement.
#birth kink#birth fic#public birth#inconvenient birth#birth fiction#birth roleplay#birth rp#pregnancy rp#labor roleplay#my writing
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<you have each other…>
(Lunamoon1985’s commission!)
TW; itty bitty descriptions of violence and blood, again, an ITTY BITTY Bit.
also, you, reader, are also an experiment, why? FUN! (what animals are you? Your choice! Use your imaginationnnn)
You… lost everything… your husband and now? Your freedom…. You had been framed of murder, just like your husband.. Sebastian solace.
As if it was magic, you had the same sentence… death. The memories of your last call with Sebastian flashed through your head, him telling you he’ll still be there… watching you from heaven, you KNEW he never killed those people and neither did you! but your cries fell on deaf ears
you rotted in your cell… waiting for your final day, until…. Urbanshade decided to swoop in and pick you up, but… living in a cell didn’t really change, they turned you into a monster, changing your dna into a freak….
they said you’d be an mechanic of some kind… they knew your job before you got sentenced..? Strange…. Your were now, Z-**
It felt…. De-humanizing but at least you weren’t dead, on the outside at least…. You were repairing on some stuff, slightly dissociating thinking of your life before this…. You missed it. You missed it a lot. You missed everything, your family, your friends… Sebastian….
then… you heard a strange amount of chaos right outside the door… blood curling screams, your rush out the door and see the floor, coated in crimson puddles
you immediately started panicking, trying to avoid WHATEVER was doing this, in your panic, you fell down a floor you never knew was there….
Time skip?
You had a THROBBING headache, you lifted your head and scanned the area, it looked like some kind of.. shop? You saw a tail and slowly looked up to the figure it belonged to… a tall, eel like figure he spoke, in a……. oh so familiar voice
“Ah! You’re awake, are you alright? you knocked yourself cold out there”
He seemed to be wiping something off his nails…. But you ignored it and focused on his voice and demeanor, you mumbled in a confused but hopeful tone
“s….Sebastian..?”
the figure, perked up and looked down, lowering his hand and speaking
“w-what..? {name}?? {NAME}?!??”
You lifted yourself off the ground and exclaimed
“oh my god- SEBASTIAN?? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?- doesn’t matter-“ you, without a second thought, hug tackled your husband,
“ack- calm down there dear, your gonna crush me”
Tears started rolling down your face, burying your face into his chest, after a little you pulled away and examined his new body, spotting the third arm and eye. Sebastian looked away and scratched the back of his head
“yeah i look uh… different… then again, you do too- wait- I didn’t mean it like that- damnit- ugh..”
You laughed a little as your husband fumbled his words, you pulled him by his collar and smooched him right on the lips, he froze up and started babbling (author interjections: head canon mention alert, head canon mention alert)
“ah- well- uhm..- hoooo boy- lord- holy..-“
you smiled, human or not, he always started babbling as soon as you kissed him, like a stun gun but wayyy more affectionate, it shut him up when he was being an ass when you were human.
Sebastian wrapped his arms, which were stronger and bigger than before because of the experiments around you and slid down the wall, sitting on his tail. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he wrapped his tail around you, his chest rumbled with a purr like sound, he mumbled something then shifted around, the fins in the sides of his skull wiggled a little
the height difference was wayyyy bigger then it was when you were human, he was at least 10ft and you? 7-6ft… no fair!
Your positions shifted as time passed, soon enough you were on the ground, laying on Sebastian, his new body was different, but you can’t say you weren’t the same… Sebastian still snored, just like when he was human, guess that never changed huh? You looked up at his large, sleeping form, looking at his angler esca, I thought only female angler fish had that? Doesn’t really matter when you both literal mutants. You slowly kissed his…. Snout? And lowered your head again to rest
you needed this, you BOTH needed this. Life was gonna be…. Different, you had each other.. and that’s all that mattered….
EEEEE I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!! SPECIFICALLY YOU @lunamoon1985 👁️👁️❤️❤️
YALL I WAS SCARED TO POST WITH BUT HERE YALL ARE. EAT MY MOTH CHILDREN! EAT YOUR SEBASTIAN SOLACE FANFICS!
#sebastian solace x reader#sebastian solace#pressure roblox#fanfiction#proshippers dni#comshippers dni
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hoooo boy. It is 3am. I started this at 1am. Almost stream of conscious writing. Lots of sex. Like, 3k words of sex. And I got emotional so like. Bone apple teeth, you heathens.
Fuck forgot tags, its too late lmao: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye, and thanks @squishyowl for dividers
Part 17/ ???
< previous || next >
Ao3 || Taglist request ||
Cato Sicarius x F!Reader
CW: Sex. Just. Lot of sex.
Summary: Cato and ambassador reunite
word count: 3,219
Song: Like Real People Do - Hozier (even get some easy listening with all this porn)
There is a sharp knock on your office door, making you jump a little. It wasn't Guilliman's knock.
“It's Open” you call out, standing and trying to tidy yourself and your desk. You'd been daydreaming and doodling again, not actually working, and tried to hide the evidence of your slacking with other papers.
Your door slides open, and to your surprise, Cato stands there, leaning in the door jamb, smirking.
It takes you a moment to process what you're looking at, but in a second you're scrambling around your desk, knocking papers on the floor as you sprint to the door.
Cato looks a little surprised himself when you fling yourself into his arms. He catches you, chuckling as he lets you cling to him.
“You weren't worried, we're you, little Ambassador?” He asks through a soft laugh.
You pull back and look up at his face in astonishment. “You're- You're home!” You gasp in shock.
“That I am.” He said smoothly.
“You found a ride? From all that way?” You ask, leaning back in to hug his chest.
He chuckles and pets your hair. “That I did. Surely you didn't expect the Captain of the Second Company to be bested by, what, finding a ride home?” He replies with some disbelief.
You laugh, burying your face in his shirt and sighing as you take in his scent, like wood and spices. For a second you realize he must use cologne to purposely smell nice, and almost laugh at the thought of him preening himself so much when he acts so aloof.
“I didn't think you'd like, die-” you say, muffled by his fatigues shirt. “-but I also expected you to take longer getting back.”
He pulls you back to look at your face, smiling and sighing as he lifts your chin. “Ye of little faith, Ambassador. After sorting things out with Titus, I had secured a ride home by the next morning.”
You smile wide. You were surprised to see him but, he's right, as much as he is cocky, it isn't unearned.
“Still,” you say, leaning your face into his palm as he moves to cup your face, “I'm so, so happy to see you.” You say softly.
He makes a soft hum, “And I have been loosing my mind missing you.” He says, mirroring your tone.
He lifts you up a bit and takes a step into your office, hitting the control panel on the door and setting it to locked. You raise an eyebrow and look up at him curiously.
Before you can formulate a question, it's already answered by the look in his eyes.
Hunger.
“Cato…?” You ask anyways, but squeak when he picks you up and plops you on your desk. He cages you in with his arms, towering over your little human size desk and grinning ear to ear.
“I have really missed you, my little Ambassador…” he says with a huskier tone. He moves his mouth to your neck and starts trailing warm kisses down.
You shudder, chuckling shyly. “Seriously? I worry for 3 days, thinking you were dead on some back water agriworld-” you stifle a gasp as he nips at your throat gently, “-and th-the first thing you want to do is-”
“Fuck you? Yes.” He purrs, pushing you gently onto your back on the desk. You flush, but it isn't not working on you. You feel your core warming as his hands roam up your curves and he nibbles at your collar bone.
“I walked into my Primarchs office today expecting to be given a death oath.” He says in a low voice.
You gasp softly. You thought he'd be in trouble, but, a death oath? A chill runs down your spine at the thought of your Cato having to swear himself to a suicide mission for the dishonor of bedding you…
He sees the look of worry in your eyes and gives you a reassuring smile. “Ah, don't stress about it. I was being a little dramatic.” He chuckles.
He goes back to kissing down your chest, humming happily and tugging your shirt away. “But dramatic or not, I thought I was going to at worst be sent to die, and at best, never see my little Ambassador again.” He sighs against your skin. “Though I think I'd prefer the death oath to knowing you were there and I just couldn't be near you…” he murmurs between kisses.
You let out a sigh, running fingers through his hair, letting yourself be comforted by the fact that he's here and safe right now. “So… you're not in trouble…?” You ask.
He grimaces, resting a cheek on your breasts and looking up at you. “Well, I mean, I'm suspended for a minute. But, thankfully a little diplomat worked her magic over on Guilliman.” He said with a smirk. “He said he, what was it, pinky promised not to kill me?”
You chuckle and blush a little. “Hey, you're not supposed to know that. The contents of a pinky promise are highly confidential.” You tease.
He grins up at you, nuzzling into your chest. “Well, thanks to you, I'm not only not going to be killed in some fashion, but I've been given permission to keep seeing you.” His expression softened into one of warm admiration. “Have I ever told you you're quite skilled at your job…?” He chuckled.
You gasp and put a hand to your chest, mouth agape in feigned shock. “Captain Sicarius! Was that… was that a genuine compliment?!” You say aghast. “And of my silly diplomacy skills, no less! Don't I recall you once saying my job was, what was it-” you tap your chin. “Ah, ‘frivolous and a waste of imperial resources’ I believe were the words…”
He rolled his eyes, laughing gently. “Oh be quiet, don't make me regret being nice” he said, turning to playfully mouth at your chest with his teeth.
You laugh and push playfully back on him. “What? I'm just trying to get clarification, because surely the great Cato Sicarius isn't actually admitting some things can be talked out-”
You're interrupted by him tugging your shirt up and snapping your bra off in a quick motion, making you melt into giggles as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table by the hips.
“You can be quite mean to me, you know that?” He chuckles playfully, mouth assaulting your breasts and making you giggle harder, punctuated by light gasps when he finds your nipple.
“You-” you gasp, “you're calling- me mean-?” You stifle a small moan as his hand finds your other breast and starts playing with it in tandem.
“Yes.” He says between kissing and sucking your nipples. “Quite mean, actually. You're a little bully.”
You laugh and give him a small smack on the shoulder, only eliciting more chuckles from him.
“No no, you aren't turning this on me Cato Sicarius!” You try to scold between breathless giggles. His hand has started working its way under your pants and tugging them down, which greatly distracted from your indignant rage. “You're the bully here- you tripped me for fun! You would hide my paperwork and tell important nobles crazy rumors about me!”
He pops his mouth off your breast, laughing in a low growl as he tucks you further against him and finally pulls off your pants. “You have no proof that you weren't raised on an agriworld entirely dedicated to manure farming.” He says with a mischievous grin.
You huff and smack his chest uselessly. “That's not even a real thing! And you didn't say ‘manure farming’, you told the planetary governor I was raised as a shit shoveler!”
“Tomato tomato.” He says, flippantly waving a hand. You start to growl out an argument but your words die in your throat as he tugs off his pants and kicks them to the side in one movement.
“We're-” you rasp, eyes glued to him stroking himself between your knees, “We're coming back to this later, I won't forget it.” You manage.
He rumbles a low chuckle in his chest, pushing your knees apart. “Oh, of course. Can't miss an opportunity to berate me, can you, little bully?” He needles at you playfully, but your frustratingly are having trouble keeping your thoughts straight while his fingers are trying to work into you.
He makes a happy hum as you interrupt yourself with a sweet, soft moan when his finger gently pushes into you at last.
“What was that, Ambassador? It sounded like you had a well thought out argument to make-” he chuckles as he pushes it deeper into you, pulling another noise from your throat.
“Y-you- mmhhhf-” you moan, squirming under him as he leans in and starts kissing you across the neck and jaw.
“Speak up, Lady Ambassador.” He chuckles, “why, this is no way to conduct yourself in a negotiation, making all these noises…”
He cuts off your next attempt at words by capturing your mouth with his own, and pulls his finger free of your clasping depths. You whimper against his mouth at the emptiness, but you aren't left alone long as you feel the head of his cock prod at your now somewhat more prepared entrance.
He releases you from the kiss, pulling back to grin mischievously at you. “Well?”
You blink, bleary eyed and confused. “…well what…?” You rasp breathlessly.
“Well, aren't you going to defend yourself against all my ‘bullying?’” He teases, rubbing his head along your soaked lips.
You blink again. “D…defend….” You frown, “What- you're the one who always bullies me-”
He stops you with another kiss, making you whimper a needy noise. “Well, maybe do your job you're so good at, hm?” He grumbles in an amused tone. “Go on, negotiate.”
The gears slowly turn in your hazy brain. “Negotiate… so you'll fuck me…?” You mumble.
He pushes the head of his massive cock just barely into you, making your hips instinctively rock, seeking more. He holds you by the waist and chuckles. “That's right. Maybe if you can argue your way into it, I'll bully you over it less.”
You frown, furrowing your brow. “You are such a brat, Cato.” You sigh.
You try and think through your sluggish, hazy thoughts. To negotiate, you just need to know what the other actually wants, and what they aren't willing to give up. Cato might think himself clever- and in all aspects of war he is. But when it comes to emotions, especially his own? The man barely figured out he liked you romantically, then was snappy while fucking you in a cave.
You clearly have the advantage.
“Fine.” You say, crossing your arms and putting one leg over the knee of the other. “I don't feel like playing your games today, Cato. You can't come into my office, days after me worrying for you, toss me on my desk and then push me around.”
He frowns, hands still holding your waist. “What?” He asks flatly.
“I don't want to play this game.” You repeat, huffing. “You can go. Find me when you actually want to fuck me.”
He looks like he was slapped. “You-” he sputters. “You're not serious.”
You shrug, turning your face away. “Nope, lost your chance.”
His mouth falls open a little. “I- I mean- I was just joking-”
You shrug again.
He frowns, scrunching his forehead hard. “Come on, little Ambassador, I just thought we were playing-” he says, voice tinged slightly with desperation as he rubs your crossed knees.
You pout. “I dunno. Didn't sound like playing.” you huff.
He frowns harder. “I- I mean- I'm sorry. Please don't throw a tantrum.”
You give him a small scowl of annoyance, and he snaps his mouth shut so fast you can hear his teeth click. “Sorry, sorry, not a tantrum-” he says, nervously clearing his throat. “Please, can we just…?” He smiles nervously, rubbing your thighs.
Your suppress a smirk. He's so easy to tease.
“Please what?” You say, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice.
He blinks at you, then grimaces. “Oh, come on-” he starts before you smile and shake your head.
“You won't be coming on anything if you can't use your words. Go on, Captain. Negotiate. I'm open to begging.” You smirk.
His jaw falls open again. “You crafty little-” he shakes his head and sighs, leaning over your legs. “Please, little Ambassador?” He says, cheeks tinged pink.
You grin. “Use your words, Captain.”
He groans. “Please can I fuck you?” He mumbles, cheeks warming further.
“You don't sound like you want it very badly.” You say with a mischievous grin. You uncross your legs.
He sighs and smiles, eyeing your teasing sex before leaning over you again. He cups your face, leaning his lips down to your ear.
“I need you, my little vixen.” He whispers with warm breath ticking your ear.
You swallow to sooth your suddenly very dry throat. “Oh-?” You rasp.
He prods at you with his head again. “Mm, I need you. I've thought of nothing but how you feel wrapped around my cock for three days…” he purrs, nuzzling your jaw. “Please, please let me have you…” he whispers huskily before nibbling at your earlobe.
You have a split second thought that you may need to get rehydrated after this with how quickly wetness rushes between your legs at his sweet, desperate words.
He feels your slickness and chuckles, rubbing the head of his cock between your lips and making lewd, wet noises from it. “Is that a yes, little vixen?” He rumbles softly.
“I- I suppose- I think I can spare a moment of my- busy schedule-” you barely rasp out.
He grins against your neck. “Then we have come to an excellent, mutually beneficial agreement. I suppose my earlier praise stands, you're pretty good at your job.” He teases, then lines himself up and pushes into your slick entrance.
A deep, husky groan is ripped from your lungs as he stretches you. Your hands instinctively cling to his neck and tangle in his hair.
“Uhnf- Cato-” you moan, head falling back and hair cascading across the still paperwork covered desk.
He lets out a deep, primal groan of his own, voice shuddering. “By the throne, you feel-” he moaned gruffly, “-amazing- I don't think I'll ever tire of this feeling-”
He sank deeper, filling you in a way you've been craving since he last had you. He bottoms out and sighs. He pants softly and grins down at you, flushed and squirming and panting little hitching noises.
“Holy Terra, you're beautiful like this.” He says almost dreamily. He tucks some hair behind your ear. “You're mine, right?” He purrs, rocking slowly in and out of you.
Your eyes roll back a moment as he starts to move. “Cato-” you groan.
He chuckles again. “That doesn't answer my question, my lady~” he slows his movement, making you whimper. “Tell me you're mine.” He demands in a soft, heady voice.
Your mind wipes blank a moment. “I- I'm yours-” you rasp, and you're rewarded with his cadence picking up again.
“That's right-” he pants, falling forward to cage your head in with his arms. “Mine-” he growls. “A-again-”
You gasp needily as his hips start slapping to yours faster, the sound of your thighs meeting his muscular stomach echoing with his balls slapping against your ass as he moves.
“I- I'm yours-” you pant out again, “yours- yours-”
He lets out a primal noise as he curls around you and begins hammering into you, losing himself in instinct. “Mine, mine, mine-” he snarls softly into your ear, pulling you sharply down to meet him every thrust like a toy. You worry a moment as you hear the wood creak on your poor desk, but it's drowned out in your mind when he slams back into you.
You feel your mind going hazy, lost in the feeling of being stretched over his cock over and over. As your gasps get higher and higher pitched, he pulls back just a little to watch your face with a dazed smile. “Mine…” he murmurs, cupping your chin and tilting yor face to meet his eyes. “I want to watch your face when you come for me.” He rasps huskily between pants. “I want to see that sweet face fall apart with how good I make you feel. How good it feels when I make you mine-” he growls softly.
You feel your stomach tighten at hia words, and its hard to keep your eyes on his as you feel your orgasm edge closer each deep thrust. “Cato-” you gasp. “I- I- unff-”
He grins at you, eyes lidded and breath coming in ragged gasps. “Good girl, look at you, so pretty like this-”
You whimper again, fists grasping desperately at the papers on your desk.
“Cato-! Cato!” You pant.
“Cato- I- oh throne-” you desperately grab for him and he holds you up by the back so you can press your forehead to his, looking up desperately into his eyes.
You gasp sharply as you feel the tightness snap in your belly, your walls squeezing his still pistoning cock in you.
“I love you-!” You cry out as you come.
He stumbles for a half second, eyes going wide and jaw slacking. Then he follows suit with you, and you feel him start to twitch in you as he snaps back into thrusting.
“Oh, throne-” he groans your name, then pants it hazily as you feel the full force of him like you haven't before, filling you to almost uncomfortable tightness before his come can spill out from you.
He hilts into you a few times more before collapsing around you, one knee on your desk, elbows holding him from crushing you while he gulped air like he was drowning.
Your fuck hazed mind slowly catches up with you.
Did you just-
During sex--!?
Your delirious warmth starts creeping with cold panic as you look up at his face- but it's quickly stopped when his mouth crashes into yours.
His tongue pushes needily around yours, and you quickly return it best you can, losing the fight against his aggressive, possessive need.
He breaks the kiss, both of you gasping, and holds your face between his hands.
Your eyes go wide again when you see his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He's fighting back crying clearly by the way his mouth keeps trying to tug down at the corners, the way his forehead is scrunched between his brows-
“I love you, too.” He whispers.
You don't realize you're crying until his thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Much more softly, he leans in and kisses you again
#Cato x diplomat fic#cato sicaruis x f!reader#cato sicarius x reader#my work#wh40k fanfic#wh40k fic#xreader#x reader
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Your rec has moved wheel of time to the top of my priority watchlist, but out of curiosity would you also recommend the books themselves? Consider this an excuse to ramble as much as you'd like btw ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
HOOOO BOY THAT IS A COMPLICATED QUESTION
My answer is multifaceted. Take it as you will:
1) Wheel of Time was my first fandom. I adored the books. Ate slept and breathed them. It was the first fandom I was online for. They owned my SOUL.
2) BUT… the WOT book fandom I loved was all about the theory mongering. There’s so many CLUES in them and prophecies and hints hidden where only the most attentive will find them. It was so FUN to comb through every word with the community.
3) BUT now that they’re complete, the books don’t really have that experience anymore. Presumably you’ll binge them and unless you do so with a reading group you’re not going to pause between books and try to guess what happens next for weeks or months or years at a time they way we did
(The show is doing a great job putting just enough little twists in that even book readers get to theory monger again and it’s GREAT I bet it’s even great if you’re show-only too if not better!)
4) so basically it’s like asking if “Lost” is worth watching when it used to be this huge cultural phenomenon. I think the answer is “Yes for the story but it is long and the reason it was a phenomenon was all the theorizing the fans did. Just binging it isn’t the same experience that people had when they said they were obsessed.” I’m still excited to share the books with others but the EXPERIENCE isn’t the experience that obsessed me so if the books don’t land with someone I don’t really even try to defend them. It’s just a different sort of pleasure now and maybe the show is best for that.
Then throw in the fact that the author died before finishing them and the last few books are good but stylistically quite different as a result. The new author wraps stuff up a lot more quickly for obvious reasons. Most people loved that but I’m a weird duck who hated it lol because I loved being edged forever by WOT and I got offended when like 3 prophecies got resolved in one chapter when it used to take 3 books to get one resolution.
They’re also long as fuck so if you don’t like them by the end of Book 1 then don’t force it even if later books are great. Because book 1 is like 700 pages and so is each one after that if not longer so I can’t reasonably say “No man you gotta get to Book 4 to REALLY get what the series is about!”
I was hooked by Book 1, and I loved those books like they were life itself and the ending changing the pacing and style crushed me but I still read them because I loved all the characters and that world so so much. The show is doing so much needed edits to this huge sprawling work so ignore the haters who don’t like that it isn’t some impossible page by page adaptation they’re idiots this adaptation is phenomenal.
So, uh, tldr I loved them but they might not be for everyone and that’s fine?
Oh and if you’re reading them for the cute Siuan and Moiraine lesbian romance you don’t really need to read the whole series just read the prologue novella New Spring it’s all in there much more than it’s in the main books.
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Which of the mafia!ateez members who are bad boys but when you are there, they showed their soft side?
ooooh this ask scratches my brain real good because the concept of mafia!ateez is all about cold, ruthless men with grey morals who become soft, gooey and protective only for their s/o 😍🤩
(pls note: this is based purely on the aus and headcanons that i've created for my mafia world)
mafia!hongjoong - tbh he wouldn't be soft for you per se, he'd be more of a textbook simp LMAO. look the mans has got to maintain his image as the big scary mafia boss. but the person who really runs the show? you. just say the word and he will be contacting all of his connections, pulling in all his owed favours, utilising all his resources and men; basically anything and everything he can do for you
mafia!seonghwa - if joong is the textbook definition of a simp then seonghwa is the textbook definition of soft 🥹🫶 given your history of trauma as well, seonghwa makes sure to shower you with the gentlest and most tender love that he can give you. you make his life so much more domestic and homey and cozy he feels his heart literally burst every time he looks at you
mafia!yunho - he's also very very soft for you. yunho's nearly lost you once (and by his own hands at that) so he's never going to want to see you get hurt ever again. you always have to remind him that you can do things by yourself but it must be the height difference or sth because the man won't doesn't hear a word. but in saying that, this man also finds joy in teasing and pranking you
mafia!yeosang - hmm yeosang was a bit of a tricky one to think about. growing up, you were the one who took care of him a lot of the times (if we're being real i'm pretty sure most of us want to baby him) and so he was mostly just comfortable with you. i think eventually though, once he became your bodyguard and he started to notice that hang on, you're actually shorter and smoller than him now, the dynamic started to change. yeosang probably doesn't even realise that he's got a soft spot for you
mafia!san - hoOOO OKAY san is soft yes but you drive his protective instincts wild. like he is the type to watch the whole world burn if anyone hurts you. he can never really ever forget that night when you turned up at his apartment, vulnerable and asking for his help. he'd put himself between you and the rest of the world in a heartbeat
mafia!mingi - ik a couple of the other teezers have a civilian s/o too, but for mingi in particular, the fact that you're a normal civilian (that he accidentally dragged into his mafia mess) makes him that much softer when he's around you. he's honest with you and will answer your questions if you ever ask, but there's a larger part of him that wants to keep you far far away from his crimes. you see the best in him and if he could, he wants to only show you that side of him forever
mafia!wooyoung - textbook simp #2 like this boy CANNOT. and i say C A N N O T hide his affection for you to save his life (you definitely get kidnapped once a month because of how obvious he makes it that you're his lover). but wooyoung's affection comes hand in hand with brattiness so he will make it his mission to test how far he can drive you up the wall 🙄
mafia!jongho - jongho is definitely soft, but it's a lot more subtle than the other members. he doesn't express it so much with words or touch but you can see his softness clear as day in the things that he does for you. like FIRST UP the whole joining the mafia to bring justice to your dad's death???? he quite literally upended his whole life for you 🫵 i think also the fact that you two have known each other since you were children plays a part in the subtlety of his soft affection. he knows you like the back of his hand and he'll do things for you without ever being asked and without asking for acknowledgement
#loren answers#sadfragilegirl#< what a mood#thanks for the ask this was such an indulgent one to answer#also i was originally going to make this a mtl#but then i kept putting them all tied for first place#so i was like well this ain't working 🧐#mafia!ateez#mafia ateez
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I don’t see the parallels between Mable and Ford and Dipper and Stan. Can you explain cause i’m really curious now.
ok ok ok so. im not gonna cite any specific sources sorry im too lazy to go back but i promise you ive watched the series too much for it to be healthy
mabel and ford are both very much similar people. they're both very artistically talented, mabel made a lifelike sculpture of stan so you cant deny this one - they also both have very similar personalities, they're extremely blunt when talking to others and outwardly weird and proud of it, they just express it in different ways. i mean how many times has mabel directly called out dipper for doing Stupid Shit in the same way Ford has to Stan ? like at least three times. at least thrice. and theres definitely a parallel between mabel embracing being a weird little girl and making sweaters every day, eating toothpaste and whatever the unicorn creature from DDAMD was - she could choose to act normal, but why in the world would she ever? and ford not having that choice, so he pursues research of the supernatural to try and find a place for himself amongst the strange and unusual. both are also called out on by society for being strange - mabel just stands up to her bullies a little better than ford does. its also important to note that neither of them socialize normally at ALL. its just that mabel is so confident in herself that when she goes up to you and says HI I'M MABEL MY EARRINGS ARE NACHOS WANNA BE FRIENDS? you're like hell yeah!!! they are!!! lets be friends!!! theyre both so trusting too which leads to them being directly screwed over by bill, it isnt their fault at all but he STILL DOES IT. plus they both briefly dated a supernatural fish creature, and had an absolutely TRAINWRECK of a relationship that altered how they'll approach their future ones - mabels was with gideon, and fords was with bill.
and hoooo their twin. stan directly sees some of his younger self in dipper, most notably in dreamscaperers, which is why he tries to toughen the kid up. the two of them also solve a lot of their problems with Punching. as soon as dipper loses access to the journal he starts swinging. bro jumped off a cliff to punch a massive robot in the eye and also swung at a massive triangle god. he was NOT hesitating he just started swinging, exactly what stan does!!! and its for their twin. soooo much of what the both of them do is in pursuit of the goal of keeping their twin safe or getting them to safety. dipper sticks up for mabel against Pacifica exactly how Stan did for his family in Gideon Rises. they're also VERY intelligent + resourceful, and can fly by the seat of their pants with random information, stan rebuilt the portal with about a third of the blueprints and with zero funding, and dipper is shown doing complex math in an instant and using what little info the journal has on various threats to thwart them - part of this is also social intelligence. mabel may be a social butterfly but dipper and stan know who to trust and when and navigate their relationships extremely carefully. theyre also hella good at convincing people to do what they want - dipper redeemed at least two people by just talking to them, the only difference between the skill they have with words is that stan uses his to convince people to keep coming back to the mystery shack so he can make money, and dipper uses his to get people to fight back against injustice. i also dont think i need to tell you how insecure the both of them are in their identities. thats not even getting into the themes of self sacrifice
sorry this was long but tl;dr: a cutiepie wearing sweaters with a book vital to the plot whose eccentricities define them, and a smart&sly guy who has a way with words, with a front meant to hide their insecurities. okay was i talking about mabel and dipper or ford and stan in that order
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Sir Crocodile - Passion/Pleasure
Reader style - Afab she/her Time slot - After hours Client Name - @bronsterbash CW: None - mostly fluff =3

You knew dating Sir Crocodile was going to mean being in second place, effectively. The Club was always going to be the primary concern for him, and it was understandable. He’d help build the place up, and there were a lot of livelihoods and other factors of importance tied into it.
You may not get to see him as much as you’d like, but as long as you were reasonable you were never turned away. Sir Crocodile was an effective communicator, and if you did come around too much he’d let you know. It wasn’t ever cruel or personal, but if he didn’t finish work he couldn’t focus on you as you deserved.
You close the door behind you as you enter his office. You’re careful to do it quietly, so as to not disturb him while he works. He doesn’t say anything as you approach the desk, and a pleased smile crosses your face.
If he were going to be busy for a long while, he’d instruct you to have a seat.
You stand on the opposite side of his desk for a minute, eyes glancing over the paperwork. You’d helped with it before, so most of it made sense to you, even at a glance.
Letting your fingers trail against the wood of the desk you started to slowly step around it. Papers were already being organized and put into order before you even reached the side of his desk. It was almost mesmerizing to watch the tactile glass prosthetic move as smoothly as the real thing.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d been born with a glass hand.
As you came around to the same side of the desk as him, the papers were set aside and large hands grabbed you. You laugh despite it, delighted as he sets you easily in his lap, glass hand steady against your back and his warm, ring-dappled hand, firm against your thigh.
His lips were against yours even before you’d gotten your delighted laughter under control. The heat from his need rushed through you and practically turned you into putty in his grip. Your hands were cupping his face as soft moans curled around your tongue, only to be devoured as he pulled you into a deeper embrace.
“I could’ve waited,” you murmur, kissing him softly as he breaks the kiss enough to simply look at you.
“I could not.” He answers, kissing your forehead before capturing your lips again. His hands shift, moving you as the fabric of your dress tickles your skin. “I’ve been too busy.”
The words are as close to an apology as you’ve ever known him to get, but the heat flickering at the edges of them is enough for you. You’re grateful you remembered to lock the doors when you came in, as hot breath crashes against your neck, his kisses trailing against sensitive skin and down to your chest.
“I-I’m sure we can get Daz to dr-drive us hoooo-home!” You gasp the words as his fingers flex against the material, iron grasp ready to rend the dress off you.
“Then, my sweet desert flower, you tell me.” He says, leaning you back a little so you can look into his eyes. “If you’re more comfortable crying my name in this office, or in the car?” A delightful pleasure runs through you, sharp amber golden eyes greedily devouring every shivering hitch in your breath. His finger runs down the middle of your chest, nail snagging the fabric lightly.
“Because home, is entirely too far away to be an option right now.”
One Piece Host Club AU drabble event runs through December 2023
#One Piece Host Club AU#December Drabble Event 2023#One Piece Fanfiction#x reader#reader insert#sir crocodile
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🖌️ 🧠 🖼️ for the Sabezra Secret Santa Ask Game?
Another one, thank you
Here we go . . .
🖌️:
Favorite Sabezra work I’ve made - Sweet Christmas anon, you’re asking me to pick a favorite among my children? Sheesh.
. . . Well, gun to my head, I suppose my favorite would have to be Princess Lenora and the Starboy. That one came while writing another fic because Sabine needed a favorite fairytale and I just came up with it on the fly. The idea was so good that I had to write it out fully.
It’s my favorite because Star Wars is, at its heart, a modern fairytale. All the best stories are, really. So, I always jump at the chance to add to the tapestry that is Sabine and Ezra because I think their relationship is essentially a core theme of what makes Star Wars great.
This one is near and dear to my heart because of how nicely it wraps up with Sabine and Ezra’s last words to each other. It was a joy to write.
🧠:
Favorite Sabezra headcanons - hoooo boy, do I have lots of thoughts about these two.
- I wrote about this recently in my domestic Sabezra fanfic Quiet Night, but Sabine and Ezra split the house chores between cleaning and maintenance. Sabine handles the latter, with Ezra doing the former.
- Since these two were denied a proper childhood/teenage experience, they are absolutely silly in their adult years and indulge in stuff that others of their age would deem childish.
- Sabine is horrendously down bad for post-exile Ezra. Who can blame her.
- Ezra continuously grapples with Sabine’s Big Decision during the events of Ahsoka that allowed her to find him. He tries to make up for it by constantly pushing himself to be the best he can for everyone around him. Anything less, in his eyes, would make him unworthy of what Sabine did and the cost it took on the galaxy.
- Sabine does not cook. Ezra handles all the cooking.
- Ezra and Murley are secretly rivals for Sabine’s affections. They play nice when she’s around, though.
- Sabine is secretly filthy rich thanks to being from high ranking Mandalorian family but she doesn’t really care about money. Ezra, having lived on the streets of Lothal as a child, almost has a heart attack when he sees how much money Sabine has when they make a joint bank account.
- If there is a Tumblr or A03 that exists in-universe, then Sabine has an account and constantly looks up Sabezra content. She shares the best stuff to a group chat with Hera, Zeb, and Ahsoka.
- Sabine and Ezra have really good singing voices and actually release some albums under a pseudonym band name (Starbird and the Wolf).
- Sabine never returns to Krownest, instead choosing to rebuild her clan with Ezra on Lothal, with their beloved comm-tower as the new Clan Wren residence.
- As a surprise gift for Sabine on one of her birthdays, Ezra takes her to an art gallery with portraits of her during candid moments that were all drawn and painted by him. Their first child, Mira, is conceived later that night.
- Did I mention that Sabine is down horrendous for Ezra. Well, I’m mentioning it again. It’s important.
I have so many more. Maybe someday I’ll write about them later.
🖼️:
Favorite Sabezra work that someone else has made.
Any art by @alphaofdarkness. Go check out their work, it’s super gorgeous, and also Eman Esfandi and Natasha Liu Bordizzo have seen and liked it.
#sabine wren#ezra bridger#sabezra#star wars#star wars rebels#ezrabine#ahsoka show#ahsoka#natasha liu bordizzo#eman esfandi#anon ask#secret santa
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Hi! I hope this isn't a strange thing to ask but could you tell me more about ii-critical? I'm writing a research paper on the ii community and I wanna gain more insight to what that part of the fandom was all about.
My main questions are: Why did it exist? Why were you apart of it? What were the posts like? What was the biggest drama? Hell, what platform was it even on??
I wasn't that deep in the OSC when it was up and running (only really got into the community in ~2018) so a lot of community context from that era is lost on me. If you have any other object show oldhead insight for ii you wanna share, please do! I find fandom fascinating and would love to here more stories.
hoooo boy...... cracks knuckles. i went over it a little bit in a previous post but i'll try and give more info this time
(also this should go without saying but please don't try and seek out anyone mentioned or involved its been like 6-7 years since all this happened. also most of us were mentally unstable teenagers hence the. everything)
ii-critical originated as a tumblr blog created by someone named mira (i have no idea if they still go by mira or what their pronouns are now. i'm just gonna stick to they/them for convenience) as a way for them to discuss their criticisms towards the show's writing. the blog was created in mid-to-late 2017, during a time period where "(media) critical" was becoming a common tag. the trend was started by "su critical", a tag created by steven universe fans to discuss the show's faults in response to the show being in a rut of making some VERY dubious decisions (i believe it was started around bismuth's introduction, which was heavily criticized at the time for MANY reasons). the "critical" tags were often created for fandoms who tended to be hostile towards criticism of the media they were based around. the inanimate insanity fandom didn't really have that issue, thankfully. and so, the blog "ii-critical" was born.
at the beginning, the posts were about mira going through an episode beat by beat, and pointing out things they both liked and disliked about it. occasionally, there were posts analyzing a specific character. i'm kind of speeding through the "what were the posts like" section because that is by far the LEAST interesting part of the ii-critical mythos
i found the blog very shortly after its creation. it caught me at a good time, because i was at a point where i was becoming disillusioned with the show (episode 11 was the most recent episode at this point, and i really disliked it due to it being at the peak of ii's melodrama era. the show just felt miserable to watch. s2e11 sucking butt is still an opinion i stand by today Lolzor). mira and i started talking and i was brought on as the blog's other moderator, and i wrote my own analysis posts.
the blog was decently successful and didn't actually get that much hate. most people agreed with our criticisms and were, like, normal about the concept of a thing they liked being flawed. at some point we had a decent amount of followers and made the ill-fated decision to create a discord server for the blog. for added context: at the time of the server's creation, mira was 13, and i was 14. we were NOT old enough to be running a public discord server that at least 50+ people ended up joining.
the server had a lot of problems, mainly in regards to the channels. since we were both at the age where you are hormonal and stupid, we decided to make the nsfw channel accessible to everyone, and didn't even ask for people to include their ages in their intros. a concerning amount of people assumed that mira and i were both adults, or at least older teens until we said otherwise. we also had a blacklist and vent channel, which, word of advice, you should NOT have in a public server. shit gets out of hand SO fast. i vividly remember there being at least one guy who posted in the vent channel on a near-daily basis about pretty serious stuff. trust me when i say that people shared some HORRIFIC information in there. also, we had an emoji that was just a drawing of donut from bfdi with his whole cock and balls hanging out because we thought it was funny. i'm pretty sure there wasn't a "please don't post the donut balls emoji in non-nsfw channels" rule anywhere either.
i could go into more detail about various happenings, but that delves too deeply into interpersonal drama that frankly has no business being shared publicly. one of the most concerning things that happened, however, was this one guy who would come in vc, barely say anything, and fuck around with his gun the whole time. and yes, you could hear it. eventually we got reports of him being predatory towards a younger member of the server, and he was banned. i think that was the first thing that made mira and i go, "oh, we might've fucked up". there was also another incident where somebody was leaking information from inside the server (yet another reason why the vent channel was a HORRIBLE idea), and we banned a bunch of inactive people until eventually realizing somebody had stolen the username and pfp of a real user and impersonated them to stay in the server. this whole ordeal lasted like, two weeks. and again!! we were just BARELY no longer preteens at this point!! and we still thought, yeah, we can handle this. we're super capable. at one point we hired two other moderators (one of whom was 14-15, and the other was an actual adult for once. having an adult moderator led to us FINALLY locking the nsfw channel off to minors, since we had somebody who could moderate it for us), but this was towards the end so most of the damage had already been done
i was removed as a moderator on the blog after a large amount of interpersonal nonsense that, again, i'm not going to get into. it was mainly just because i was spending too much time in the server instead of posting on the blog like i was supposed to. a couple weeks later, i was suddenly banned from the server and mira had blocked me on everything. again, interpersonal nonsense and both of us being mentally unstable, not anyone's business. we reconciled a few months after and both apologized for being dumbasses, so we at least ended things on better terms.
another notable thing is that sometimes, crew members would pop in and out of the server, and they were surprisingly chill about the blog's existence. it was mainly justin and sam from what i remember, and resulted in this legendary image:
i don't remember this bit, but at some point taylor may have responded to one of our posts and was Not Nice about it? again, i don't remember this, take it with a grain of salt. but knowing his history with getting into shit with fans for no reason and how it got to the point where it was cited as a reason he was removed from the team, yeah that tracks
talking about ii-critical is strange, because i don't know where to draw the line between "infamous blog from the early days of the tumblr osc", "stupid pointless infighting between teenagers", and "genuinely horrible decisions and moderation that caused real damage". i'm trying to stick to just the first one and giving info about the last one when necessary. i'm aware a lot of this is gonna paint my past self in a VERY unflattering light, but that's who i was and what i did when i was 14 and i just have to accept that.
ii-critical was just a facet of the tumblr osc circa 2017. a lot of what happened can be traced back to larger issues with the fandom, especially when it came to restrictions on nsfw content. remember, this is pre-tumblr porn ban. i knew an ALARMING amount of people who had nsfw blogs, and even posted nsfw art while they were minors. i don't wanna seem like i'm making excuses for fucking up when it came to moderation and keeping our members safe, but it's important to know that the blog and server were very much a product of a specific point in tumblr history. we saw minors casually posting nsfw on a regular basis and thought, "yeah, it should be fine to have the nsfw channel open to everyone, right?" and like i said, we didn't originally require ages upon introduction. people didn't realize how badly we'd fucked up until the damage had already been done.
i could go on about the dozens of other ways i fucked up, but that would start to dive into the interpersonal side of things. i think i covered everything that actually mattered. i don't plan on talking about ii-critical to this extent again any time soon. everyone who both ran and was part of the blog and server have moved on, i don't wanna keep dragging people back to what's probably a very unpleasant period of their lives.
that said, if prompted, i will talk about the 2012-2014 deviantart era + "dark ages" of the osc AT LENGTH if prompted. i swear i have wisdom beyond the shitty blog i ran with my friends as a teenager. you dont even know about the Ball OC Discourse
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@vagooba liked the spotify charlie starter call!
Were they doomed by the narrative, or was it just Charlie's outrageous ambition? The tip of a black nail finds her teeth, though she does well to remember not to bite down. A nervous habit she was eager to kick but still mimed from time to time. Her tail coils protectively around her middle, as if to ward off the uncertainty bubbling up within her. With a deep breath, she steadies the storm building in her head and tosses Vaggie a small smile.
"Say you'll still be by my side." The words aren't a question, but the pitch in the princess's voice phrase it as one. It leaves things open, the availability for rejection though she finds herself sensitive to its possibility. Would her spirit, or her pride be broken? She was curious, but not so eager to find out.
"We fight every night for something. . . " Her hands gesture beyond the windows of the hotel. She turns her back to Vaggie now, overlooking the view of Hell they have from where they were. "When the sun sets, we're both the same; half in shadows, half burned in flames. . . I know it's a lot to ask, and you can say no. Well, you can change your mind any time, really! But just. . . just for now. I just need to hear it, I think? If that - if I - make any sense at all. Hoooo boy, I am a mess today, haha!" And sure enough she was. While her hair wasn't completely in disarray, it certainly wasn't styled within the usual black cords. Golden tresses were a wavy veil behind her her, like a backdrop of pale, unsteady sunlight.
#★ // MUSE — CHARLIE.#★ // INTERACTIONS.#vagooba#I still love your url so much asjdkfl how magnificent#hope this is okay!! let me know if you need me to change anything :)
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please elise please enlighten me on the appeal of omegaverse. I don’t understand it, someone’s bossy and the kind of authoritative that makes me anxious, someone’s horny and a little bit manic, maybe more than one in each category, and idk aboutthe other guy/s. is it meant to be hot? explain it to me like I grew up in a cave and don’t know what sex is
i cannot put into words how obsessed i am with this becoming my reputation . i will do my best to enlighten the people!!
(extremely long) essay below the cut <3
as you read this keep in mind that i only consume m/m content. idk how they do things on the other side of the tracks
quick run down before i yap:
secondary gender: status as alpha/beta/omega
alpha: traditionally seen as dominant, brutish, controlling. has a "rut" and usually a knot
beta: basically a regular human, sometimes with scents (depending on authors preference). typically seen as the neutral in society.
omega: traditionally seen as submissive, subservient, and weak. has a "heat" and, in some instances are fertile (again, depends on if author is into mpreg (personally no thanks))
i'm splitting this into two sections because i think both are important
the explanation:
based on your ask it seems like a lot of what you don't like about omegaverse is the smut. which is fair! it's kinda weird (until one day a switch flips and you're like oh yes this is good) and i think a lot of people feel this way about it.
(however i will say, one of the best things about omegaverse is that its ~fake~. a lot of fics have no knotting, no slick, etc. that's what's great about it!! authors can write what they like and what they're comfy with. there are no Rules)
i think, though, what makes omegaverse good is not the smut. some of the best fics i've read have had little to no smut scenes. i'm working on a fic rn that won't have any! what makes omegaverse good is the dynamics.
omegaverse is primal at its core. it focuses on instinct and the five senses in a way that can really make traditional attraction more fun! not only to read but to write, too. it's not just oh this guy is so cute, it's this guy feels/smells/tastes like safe.
a really important aspect to me is the dynamics of a pack. the emphasis on friendship and chosen family is so important. we all have people that are our people and omegaverse takes that and runs with it. having a character go from feeling alone in the world to having people that not only make them happy but make them feel safe and content on an instinctual level? that's beautiful.
and then there's the romance. hoooo boy i love the romance.
but what makes the romance Good is, once again, the dynamics. there's this idea that omegaverse is all just weak omegas who need some dominant alpha to take care of them - and some of it is! but i think that this is where authors get it wrong. what makes these relationships good and interesting is going against this idea. transforming this traditional way of thinking into something more complex. omegas aren't all helpless or weak or less than when they don't have an alpha mate. alphas aren't all power hungry and brutish people who want to control a helpless omega.
giving these characters depth and personality outside of their secondary gender is So important. it's referred to as "secondary" for a reason!
it's not "oh you smell good and you're cute lets bite each other and have rough sex." it's "you make me feel complete, i want to spend forever with you and satisfy your needs at the most intimate, baseline level."
what i think makes omegaverse so interesting is breaking out of what people assume of it. any good story, regardless of the universe/trope, shocks the reader. characters need depth! every character isn't just a joe schmo with no personality.
political omegas, serving alphas, betas with tendencies typical to other genders - that's what makes omegaverse fun !
my Opinions on omegaverse:
i think one of the things that makes me such a connoisseur of omegaverse is that i am picky. to this day, i consider there to be only 1, maybe 2 good quality omegaverse fics in the 5sos slash community (not counting smutshots. there're a couple good ones)
and that's not anything against the authors! it's not about writing quality or anything like that. it's about breaking the barriers i mentioned before. creating characters with depth in a universe that appears black and white.
a huge (and valid) criticism of omegaverse is that it's an excuse to write a largely misogynistic universe, and it's true that some authors reflect that. every author has the right to their own creations and to whatever tropes they want, even if they're objectively immoral.
but that doesn't mean i have to read them!
one of my personal grievances with omegaverse is the common erasure of homophobia. i think this ties in a lot with the misogyny thing, because in making a world where primary genders don't matter (and, ahem, mpreg exists) you're essentially feminizing one half of the pairing. and, of course, that half is the traditionally subservient omega. omegas are also commonly described as appearing more feminine, being smaller, being maternal. sorry, but that's just not my blorbo!
i'm writing 2024 ashton irwin, of course he's not feminine !! and i'm not going to change the way he looks just to fit him into a box. at that point just write an OC.
but back to the homophobia, in erasing such a huge aspect of culture you're removing so much depth from the story line. i don't think that queer history should be erased in these universes, especially as the standard.
traditionally/historically in omegaverse, the purpose of mating is to reproduce, just like in real life! there should be history to the trope that same sex couples face backlash. the whole thing is based on instincts to keep the human race alive, of course people still have Opinions about it even within a different context.
basically, i think too many people focus on the horny d/s aspect of omegaverse, and fail to really see all the different dynamics that can be explored.
each combination of gender + secondary gender is different, and that should be reflected in fic.
------
i shall end this rant with a fic rec. this is the One omegaverse fic that i think really ties my opinions together.
!! TW: untagged sexual assault , discussions of sexual assault , and if i remember correctly there may be a scene where the main character actually witnesses SA. Please read with caution.
Le Chatelier's Principle by LyricalPary
#respuesta#faithfromanewperspective#omegaverse#i feel like i have more to say about this.#but i can't think of anything else to add#like y'all i IMPLORE you to ask me more about omegaverse#i will answer any and all questions you may have#tldr is#basically i think the omegaverse that a lot of people are familiar with is Bad#and the good part of omegaverse is in the nuance and introspection of different characters#fic rec
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Crimson Agency takes in a new agent, and what Sally spies with her little eye is enough to take down a powerful senator, but the screws in charge fear that a rocked boat will take on too much water, in, 'High Wire Hopscotch'
But wait. There's more.
Now... Come with me on a journey of follicle discovery... ... ...
Different kinda hairdo, eh? The original image's hair was kinda funky, as you can see in the image below.

That's the original image, actually. That's how a Spacetime Sally image starts out. Anyway, the hair loops around and connects in a funny way, doesn't make much sense. Normally, I can have the AI clean it up, but it wasn't havin' it with this one.
I decided to try using a Generative Fill tool. You circle the area you want the AI to draw within, then tell it what to make in that area. Aliens, robots, spaceship interiors? Easy-peasy. Hairdos? Take a look for yourself...




Hoooo, boy. First, I thought I could just fix the top, keep the back. Nope. I also figured, I should let the AI know it was in a 1960s style. Nope. Moving on.




I wound up highlighting everything above her shoulders, not just the shape of the original hair. Tried telling it "casual" and decided to change it to the 70s. The fauxhawk is interesting, though.




I tried lots of different styles. I tried different wording. That bottom left one? Literal feathers when I asked for a "feathered hairstyle."




Bouffants and bowl cuts for everyone!
#scifi#science fiction#retro futuristic#retro futurism#retro scifi#hair#retro hair#hairstyle#hairstyles#hairdo#art#ai art#artwork#ai artwork#digital art#scifi art#scifi aesthetic#scifi girl
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Ive been doing an US rewatch (yes the withdrawals are real 😭) and I wanted to ask your thoughts about a hypothetical situation in which Rak wasn’t so chill about Pam admitting her revenge plan. How do you think things would’ve gone down? Like what do you think Pam would’ve done if Rak wanted to break things off? Im just curious because even though Rak was very mature in her response to everything, no one can convince me that deep down she wasn’t at least a little bit hurt about Pam’s motivations to get close to her and Kawi.
Oh gods, I feel you on the withdrawals 😩 just started my first actual rewatch yesterday (not counting all the specific scene rewatches I've done since it ended 😂) and hoooo boy did I miss it all so much.
In a hypothetical situation (that I am SO GLAD we didn't get to see 'cause they really did handle it all so maturely and thank fuck someone broke the ep11 curse), I think they would have taken some time to be alone, probably per Rak's request.
While Pam is a lot of things, from the very beginning of Us we get it pretty much established that above all, she respects Dokrak's autonomy and comfort. What I'm noticing now in my rewatch is that Pam is probably the first person to ever truly listen to Dokrak, and her behavior very clearly shows that she truly respects Dokrak's individuality and her independent nature (she even voices her admiration and we never see her try and "talk her out of anything"). Despite her initial "wrong interests" for befriending Dokrak, it becomes clear veeeeeeeery early on that Pam's interest is in Dokrak herself, not just getting close to her and Kawi for the wrong reasons.
And what solidifies this for me is when Pam rushes to Dokrak's after they come back from the camping trip, and she needs to get her feelings out there fully, she tells Dokrak that she's in love with her and that she doesn't wanna hide or wait, BUT she makes it very clear (I don't remember the exact words) that if that is not what Dokrak wants, she is willing to bury her feelings and remain friends. Even when Dokrak initiates a kiss and shows her that she wants it to finally be more, Pam is hesitant and she asks for verbal consent, and I think that really shows how important Dokrak's comfort and feelings are to her.
So in that vein, I think whatever decision Dokrak would have made when she found out Pam's reasons for getting close to them in the first place, I'm 100% certain Pam would respect that decision without any arguing. I think Dokrak would probably ask for some time alone/away from each other, just to take it in and let the actual revelation set in before making any big decision, and I'm 100% certain Pam would apologize and probably break down much in the same way she did, we'd get a heartbreaking scene of hurt without comfort, but I don't think there'd be an actual breakup - just Dokrak asking for some time and space away from Pam, and Pam agreeing to it without arguing.
At the end of the day, Dokrak's comfort and happiness are what matter the most, and if being away is what gives her both, then I think Pam would do whatever necessary without a second thought.
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Update: Auri is COOKED
i regret to inform you all that i am fucking cooked this chapter is like, totally going to be longer than chapter 4 but at least I'm finally making good progress I guess? like dude I went from 8k-ish words this afternoon to fucking twelve and a have thousand tonight, and I'd say I'm like, maybe 60-65% done at most. i have a battle to write, the stuff in mesagoza, which is longer than you would think, AND the team star intro with Penny. which is also a lot, because it's probably going to be a bit more involved than it is in the game? I have absolutely no fucking idea why I thought this would be a shorter chapter than 4. (Maybe because 17k was kind of deranged? but like, arguably going on my outline I absolutely should have expected this to be longer?) um. should I split this into two chapters? Like, very plausibly the rest of chapter 5 could end up being another 5-7k ish words. like this chapter could end up being about 17-19k words total and like wow is that too many? i mean it would make 'chapter six' kinda short because I am NOT combining that with what is currently chapter six because that's already quite long. I just. like. hoooo boy.
#i am cooked your honor#my fic#pokemon fanfiction#pokemon sv#yall why did i think it was going to be shorter#there's literally so much stuff in this chapter what the distortion world#ao3#pokemon scarvi#pokemon scarlet and violet#Terastallized (my fic)
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