#I wonder why that became the case? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dilfosaur · 1 month ago

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well i haven't spilled my guts on tumblr since i was in college but it's the platform that's felt The Most Mine thru the years, so

let's talk!

i've had a huge chip on my shoulder that i wanted off before the year ends. very bad professional experience to follow

so firstly to get ahead of the speculating, i'm not naming names or anything. some of you will puzzle out who i'm talking about, but please don't bother anyone especially not on my behalf. i've worked hard to distance myself from them the past few months. shit happens, especially when you're a dumb bitch (that's me!)

but also this person was someone i considered a close friend and it makes me uneasy to possibly direct backlash at them. "then why post about it" bc i did intermittent work for them for over a year. this is just about that. so hear me out

basically it started off fine. i initially did some commission work for good pay, then was invited to become more involved with their team. unfortunately as i became more involved with their operation it became more disorganized over time. projects started then forgotten, constantly shifting schedules, lapsing communication between roles, confusing financials, and often inconsistent if not late payments. during mid 2023 i was doing colorist work, sometimes on a one day turnaround (all while also preparing drawfee's summer merch launch). the payroll wasn't set up correctly so i wasn't paid for that work for over a year (more on that later), tho to be fair that was largely my own fault at first as i just didnt realize the payments didn't go thru lol

i always consider myself decently capable of separating friendship and coworker-ship; i run a company with 4 wonderful friends, going strong for almost 5 years. that didn't really work out in this case. by early this year our friendship was on the rocks; work issues fed into personal issues and vice versa. so as the rest of this shit plays out, we had just had our first "big fight" which i felt very bad about and added to all the upcoming tension

a huge point of friction was the fact that i really wanted to work with them to make a music video for one of their songs. i've always wanted a chance to make a music video, was confident in a concept i came up with, and even did some concept art for the idea. everyone insisted they loved the concept and that we should do it, but we kept pushing it back for various reasons. it ended up becoming a huge sticking point for my frustrations, which i tried to express productively. TLDR, we eventually got around to discussing it seriously around april.

i planned to ask for $4000 with negotiable add-on for the whole project, which was my Friend Discount price. i was offered a contract for $1000 flat rate, as they insisted that was the only budget they had for it.

don't ask me why i signed it lol. i didn't even counter offer

there was some girlmath to it: i wanted an extra 1k for a student scholarship i provide every spring and well, there it was. but if i had to guess, i saw it as something i just couldn't back down from any more. i caused these folks- my friends- a lot of problems bc i dug my heels in so deep to chase this project, so fuck it we ball

i had about 4 months to solo a 3 minute music video. they wanted it done in august so they could release it before summer ended, bc "it was a summer song". to be fair i was asked if i needed them to pay for anything extra like assistants (which i would have to find and manage) but i was so immediately overwhelmed that i didn't wanna slow down to wait on that process lol. there was very minimal communication other than brief progress check-ins every few weeks. i did everything for that project myself: the original concept, character designs, storyboards, layouts, backgrounds. i even did the editing/compositing for the final cut of the MV. the only favor i did myself was limiting the amount of it that was actually animated to simple loops and motions. hardly my best work but it was work still done

i did it all in between my full time job. i ended up having to take nearly a month away from most of my drawfee duties (with the support of the others) to make the august deadline. i only ever asked for a 3 day extension (notice given about a week in advance, around the same time i was given the final song file lol). i finished the music video at 6am on the final deadline and recorded drawfee the next day on 2 hours of sleep

but it was done, coolies. the team was very happy with the final product. honestly, without getting into it, those were a very emotionally taxing 4 months. on the professional side, i regretted agreeing to the project and especially for the dogshit rate they offered. i felt like a hypocrite- as someone who always wanted to advocate for younger artists demanding their worth in a world that's getting increasingly hostile toward creatives, i failed myself

so when i met with the manager to discuss the release plan, i told them to do whatever worked best for them as i only had one request: i wanted my credit removed from the project

tbh... like... lmao this dramatic bitch right!! but really, i decided that bad practices only breed worse business. friends or not, it was unprofessional of me to accept such a low paying job so i just didn't want my name used in association. everything felt so muddled to me and i was just really tired at this point

the manager was very understanding and then offered that i could be paid more. they said that their team "was surprised" i accepted their low rate and they would be happy to up the amount. this confused me as the initial budget seemed pretty set and at no point between april and august was i offered a better rate. i knew these guys weren't made of money. so, i declined. i didn't want to put anyone out of their means over work that was already done and agreed upon. but more importantly, i was over the whole thing and didn't want to prolong the project with a contract renegotiation. i just insisted my name be removed

they decided to use a pseudonym (which i was fine with) so they could create a story about a character who made the MV (this sounds really convoluted but i don't know how better to put it without getting specific, sorry). that way if people asked about the credit, they could speak comfortably about it without signaling that something went wrong behind the scenes. ok, kind of a silly narrative imo but whatevs. and maybe this is where i finally went truly wrong but. yolo i guess

i gave the name "D. Smithee", D as in dilfosaur and Smithee as in Alan Smithee. look it up for fun film trivia ig! was it passive aggressive of me to reference that in this context? yeah, honestly. but i thought it was kinda funny and really not that deep. if it was a problem, i have other real, non-cheeky pseudonyms i regularly use. the manager accepted it and all i had to do was wait for them to post the video and i could leave the whole experience behind me

a week later i received a message from the manager that my pseudonym had been denied by the rest of the team bc one of them got the reference. fair enough lol. however, they decided that rather than ask for a different name, the were going to make one up for me that they liked and would "fit the [story]", without asking me

and that! is when i finally snapped!

i was so tired of giving them concessions at this point and having a credit made up for me without any input from me felt genuinely violating and unethical. i started to Panic bc of how stressed i was, and asked for my overdue payments (aka the $500 still owed on the MV, and the colorist rate from a year prior that was never paid even tho i reported it in january) to be scheduled ASAP as i was leaving the work discord immediately

i finally told them off for exploiting me throughout the months while i kept trying to just be nice and finish my contact cleanly. in return i was told that it was unfair to say that as i agreed to everything- i accepted their cheap rate and denied further payment so that was all settled, and it was ok to change my credit without my consent bc i "said they could do whatever with the release". i called bullshit, ended the convo as kindly as i could, and cried lol. they agreed to ditch the pseudonym and just give no credit. that night was the last i heard from anyone on that team

and the real kicker?

august came and went. then september, october... and they never released the music video

and i don't know why, because i was never contacted about it. i've been removed from the picture entirely i guess. 4 months and boatloads of stress. just. up in smoke. i don't know what i expected honestly

it's hard to not take everything that happened personally and as done in bad faith. i really do, honestly. i've had plenty of shitty deals in my almost 10 year art career, but it hits different from people you saw as friends. but to the point of "why not keep it private", i have never felt so disrespected as a professional as i did this past year. i can toy with money and credits and other formalities all i want, but my work- my ideas, my labor, my effort- is still so important to me. i felt like the biggest idiot for doing so much work, pouring so much of myself into a piece for someone's use, for what has amounted to nothing

but more importantly i hated myself for undervaluing my work, even if initially i thought this person was a trusted friend. money is not really an issue for me- drawfee is my main job and i am fine and comfortable. it's so important to pay artists appropriately but i often undersell my own work bc i value the collaboration and passion between creatives more than the reward. i think a lot of artists tend to feel the same, and it often makes us easy to take advantage of. it's so difficult to find the balance between passion and making a fair living, and i think there's some shame within ourselves when artists choose to prioritize that passion

i wanted to finally get all this off my chest bc i was ashamed of every choice i made. things like this happen all the time i'm sure and hiding these mistakes only make it easier for it to happen to other people

tldr always value your work and protect your passion from people who just see it as a product. and don't give cheeky pseudonyms i guess lol

(and again pls don't bother anyone involved about this. a lot of chaos has left my life as i moved past all this, and this is me closing a door without opening new ones hopefully lol)

this shit was truly

so ass.

but i'm moving past it now

but on a nicer note. outside of all of this nonsense, i made lots of good memories this year. i'm truly so grateful to the many wonderful people in my life who keep me going even when i fuck up big time!

and thank you to all of you strangers who, despite everything, give me the time of day. especially if you read this whole thing. you're a real one :')

happy new year!

#getting personelle #reflecting about some shit #thank u for reading or not reading just thanks for sticking around ig

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maryhall · 1 year ago

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Unpopular (?) opinion:

When I was young and wondering why I hadn't experienced a crush yet, the internet said I was probably just a late bloomer. They urged me not to identify as aroace because I could change my mind later on.

And looking back, like… so?

If I had been a late bloomer, who cares?

I was 13. I felt comfort in the aroace community. I didn’t feel like a weirdo for once in my life, surrounded by people who were like me. But I was urged to not join these communities until I became an adult in case I changed my mind about being ace. So I didn’t. And I paid for that.

Who cares? If you’re young and feel like you’re aroace, then you’re aroace. If you “change your mind” later, it’s okay. No one is going to be born and know themselves 100%. I genuinely thought I was alloromantic once, but now know I’m not.

Speaking from experience, I would rather have kids be “wrong” about their sexuality than feel like they have no place of belonging.

We shouldn’t gatekeep aroace folk because of their age. It hurts. It makes kids feel like they are the freaks society tells them they are.

#aro #arospec #aroace #aromantic #aromantism #ace #acespec #ace pride #aspec pride #aspec #unpopular(?) opinion #pride

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the-laws-of-physics-were-harmed · 1 year ago

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If I can do a ridiculous little internet search to absolutely make sure that the planet that Pokemon takes place on is referred to as "Earth" for the sake of one fan-region that may never see the light of day, someone in the Warrior Cats team can surely keep a spreadsheet or something so the characters' eye colours actually stay consistent

#pokemon #warrior cats #in case you can't tell I am Not Neurotypical #also in case you're wondering I checked Rayquaza's Bulbapedia page #since I was pretty sure I remembered a cutscene in Pokemon Alpha Sapphire where it was flying over the Earth #but I couldn't remember if the planet was referred to by name as Earth #Now that I think about it Deoxys was there too I think #I never actually finished Alpha Sapphire so idk most of what happened #I became Champion of Hoenn and got partway through the bit after that #Then stopped playing for a bit and forgot what I was supposed to do #And now my DS is broken so I can't play...#Also in case you want to know why this is at all relevant to my region it's basically a group of space stations #and I'm making a document with some of the laws and stuff so I have some form of reference to keep things consistent

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vettelsvee · 19 days ago

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SÍ... ESTAMOS SALIENDO | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Pérez!Reader

SUMMARY: Scared of everyone to find out, Y/N Pérez and Oscar Piastri decide to hide their relationship from everyone until Checo starts wondering how Piastri learnt to speak Spanish so good... and specially why he has a Mexican accent ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe one were she is checos daughter and they hide their relationship from him. And also maybe she teaches oscar some Spanish. At the end they end up telling checo about their relationship

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: Use of Spanish. Important to say that even Spanish is my mother tongue, I may have some mistakes because it is Mexican Spanish and I don't know much about it, so I had to do some research. Otherwise, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, unprotected sex, drugs and alcohol

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Not writing related but I’m obsessed with a K-Drama I started watching yesterday and I just wanna write Come What May series since the main characters’ personalities are the same as Seb and Y/N (Di in case you read the OC Version) there lmao. Anyways, missed a lot writing about Oscar (I definitely will be writing about him more as he's my second fave on the current grid) and this one got me so happy with how it turned out! Hope you like it as well, and remember that I'd love to see your comments <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

“What if you taught me some Spanish?”

“Sorry, what did you just say?”

“That's it, Y/N. Teach me some Spanish.”

You, completely absorbed in looking at the pictures you had taken during the date you had with your boyfriend that same day, lifted your gaze from your phone and raised an eyebrow, fully taken aback by Oscar's proposal.

“Spanish? You? You already speak English! English is the only language that matters to you all…”

Oscar shrugged, nervously playing with the steering wheel. At that moment, he reconsidered what he had said, unsure now, and realized that maybe it had been a somewhat strange proposal on his part.

“I just want to understand you when you talk to your dad or your family. I know no one knows we’re together yet, but sometimes when you do video calls with them, I feel a bit lost. I also feel like sometimes you talk about me, and I’d like to know if I should worry,” he confessed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“And why do you assume we talk about you, huh?”

“Well, because you always look at me out of the corner of your eye when you do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked with that unnecessary concern.

“Why do you have to be so chismoso?” You said, making Oscar give you a little tap on the shoulder. That just made you laugh more. “Alright, alright, fine! But I warn you in advance: if you laugh at me speaking Spanish or don’t take me seriously, I’ll break up with you.”

What started as a completely random proposal, with little prospect of a future or sense at first, eventually became one of your favorite routines. You took advantage of every moment together to practice, always hiding it from Checo or any member of the Pérez family when you were in the paddock. Moreover, whenever you were in your respective countries, you would watch Mexican movies and TV shows, and also some in their original version with English subtitles. You even started sending each other the occasional message in Spanish, thanks to the Australian’s initiative.

Oscar seemed to have, in your eyes, a natural talent for languages. Not only did he manage to learn greetings and basic words in less than a week, but after a month, he was already making the effort to use your Mexican accent and even incorporating words that seemed exclusive to your family’s vocabulary.

And that was exactly what, a few months later, turned into a real nightmare for the secrecy with which you kept your relationship.

While no one knew you were together as a couple, Oscar and you pretended to be just friends when you were in public. That’s why it was completely normal for Checo Pérez to see his daughter with the Australian, having coffee and chatting animatedly after a press conference.

“¡Buenos días, Checo!” Oscar said in almost perfect Spanish. “¿Cómo va, papá?”

You, hearing that last word, spat out the little coffee you had left in your mouth and opened your eyes, completely surprised. Checo, however, made a face and a frown, questioning his daughter’s friend.

“What did you say?” You asked, though you knew perfectly well that what your boyfriend had just said was something you hadn’t taught him, and he’d probably heard it from you.

“Well… ¿Cómo va, papá?” the guy repeated innocently. “Did I say it right?”

“Papá?” repeated the Red Bull driver, even more shocked. “Do you even know what that means, kid?”

“It’s an expression, right? Isn’t it like saying buddy?”

Checo stared at him for a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Oscar. Then, he turned his gaze to you, who was pretending to fiddle with your phone to avoid having to face an awkward conversation about why your secret boyfriend had just said that.

“¿Te importaría decirme por qué Oscar habla como tú?” Pérez asked quickly in Spanish, clearly aiming for Oscar not to understand.

“He doesn’t talk like me!” You quickly replied in English. “Oscar has been practicing Spanish, and well… he wants to fit in better so he’s trying. Duolingo isn’t the best app for learning, so he’s been watching YouTube videos... Right, Osc?”

The guy nodded, but that didn’t convince Checo. Still, he didn’t say anything else and, instead, coldly said goodbye to you both.

As soon as he was far enough away not to hear you, you turned to Oscar and started shaking him:

“Of all the things you could say, you call him papá?!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, babe!” He rushed to reply, feeling bad for you. “I’ve heard it so many times that, well… I just said it without thinking. I honestly didn’t think it was anything bad.”

You huffed, knowing that it wasn’t Oscar’s fault or his curiosity and interest in learning your mother tongue, but yours for not setting boundaries or explaining the meaning of each word, as well as the context in which it should be used or who it was addressed to.

From that moment on, your father started paying more attention. He was an expert in discretion, but you knew him well enough to realize that, since the incident with Oscar, he had become much more alert and interested in you both, especially looking for clear signs that would confirm his suspicions that his daughter was dating one of the newest additions to the grid.

Unfortunately for you and Oscar, the Mexican didn’t need to investigate much, and he only did so for a month to confirm his theories.

During one of the briefings with all the drivers, Checo heard Oscar mumbling an “Órale, wey” followed by some insults in Spanish that you had made up when it had gotten pretty late and everyone was eager to return to their hotel. Also, instead of saying “sorry,” he let out a “¿mande?” which wouldn’t have been strange if he hadn’t continued speaking in English, as if nothing had happened.

You and Oscar seemed unaware of all your slip-ups; on the contrary, feeling like you weren’t arousing anyone’s suspicion, you lowered your guard. Displays of affection in public, though still cautious, became more frequent, especially when Checo wasn’t near you. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

The back of the McLaren garage, just a few meters away from Red Bull’s, as expected, wasn’t the most suitable place.

“We should go somewhere else,” you said softly while nervously fiddling with the collar of your boyfriend's shirt, who had his arm around your waist.

“Why? This place is perfect,” Oscar replied, unconcerned.

“Yeah, sure, perfect for my dad to catch us,” you muttered. “If he already suspects and looks like that doll from the red light, green light game on Squid Game, analyzing us so much to jump on us as soon as he catches us… imagine if he finds us. He’ll kill us, I swear.”

“Come on, Y/N, just try to relax. We’ve got it all under control. Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about, mi amor.”

You blushed at the compliment he had given you in Spanish, and couldn’t help but plant a chaste kiss on his lips, even though everything inside you felt chaotic.

“If you’re trying to convince me that everything’s fine by speaking to me in Spanish, just know that you’re doing it perfectly,” you declared. “But don’t forget, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a tremendous anxiety and keep thinking that we’re literally one step away from getting caught. Do you know what he could do if he finds out that you and I… that?” You asked hesitantly.

“Is he going to give us a lecture on how we have to stay professional whenever we’re in public? Or is he going to tell me he’ll kill me if I even think about getting you pregnant?”

“He’ll probably make you come home to have lunch with my family and only speak Spanish,” you tried not to laugh but couldn’t help yourself. “And trust me, you don’t want to be in that position because you’ll have all my aunts, and there are quite a few of them, right next to you, asking you some very uncomfortable questions.”

“Then we’ll have to tell him as soon as possible so he can prepare. How about I tell him that I’m absolutely and completely in love with his daughter?”

You shot him a glare, panic flooding your insides at the thought of that happening.

“No, don’t you dare do that, Osc, and especially not here. You have no idea how my dad would react if…”

“Why not?” He interrupted. Then, he stopped, and after a few seconds that felt like an eternity to you, he seemed to finally find the courage to speak: “I could tell him something like… ¡Señor Pérez, estoy saliendo con su hija porque además de ser la mejor mujer de este mundo, me hace la persona más feliz del mundo!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, filled with emotion inside at Oscar’s sweet yet innocent declaration of love aloud.

However, a cough behind you made you snap back to reality.

“Can I know what you’re doing with my daughter, Piastri?”

You both slowly turned around. There, standing before you, was Checo, arms crossed, with a very unfriendly look on his face. You swore that if Oscar walked out of there alive and without a reprimand from your overprotective father, he could do whatever he wanted for the rest of the year.

“Well…” Oscar began, his confidence suddenly disappearing.

“Esto no es lo que parece, te lo juro,” you said in Spanish, trying to calm your father, even though you knew your attempts would be in vain.

“Oh, really?” Checo asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing you were both lying. “Then, what explanation do you have for this kid shouting to the four winds in almost perfect Spanish that he’s in love with you? At least that’s what I understood, if my Spanish doesn’t fail me.”

You were about to reply, but instead, Oscar gently took you by the wrist and stepped forward, surprisingly confident.

“Checo, I’m not playing around. Okay, I was joking about that, but not about what it means… like…” Piastri explained slowly, nerves eating at him as he couldn’t bring himself to look Checo in the face. “Your daughter matters to me, well, like… you know, like a boyfriend cares for his girlfriend.”

Checo tried not to laugh at the declaration of love from the man who had just confirmed he was his son-in-law and did his best to maintain the protective fatherly composure, thinking no guy would ever be good enough for his daughter.

“So you care about my daughter… You, one of my coworkers, a twenty-three-year-old kid, care about my eldest daughter enough to believe you can have a relationship with her…”

“It’s not that I believe it, it’s that I know I do.”

Not only you and Checo were surprised by the boy’s words, but Oscar himself too. He regretted it immediately, but before he could apologize to Checo, the man stepped forward, raising a hand and staring at him:

“So… are you two dating or not?”

“Yes, for almost six months now,” you answered, feeling a knot in your stomach, but much less pressure now that your father knew the truth.

Checo sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to process the news his daughter, his little girl, had just told him. The girl he knew ever since she was born and now he had to imagine her spending, if not the rest of her life, at least part of it, with another man.

“And why didn’t you tell me before?” Checo asked, his voice tinged with disappointment but also some understanding. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I knew you would react badly,” you answered, frustrated. “I trust you, and I know you want to protect me from any guy who could make me feel bad, but you have to understand that I’m twenty years old, and whether you like it or not, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

Checo looked at you and then turned his gaze to Oscar, who had his head down. Besides his nerves being pretty evident, so was his willingness to face any kind of dispute or reprimand from him just to stay with you.

That made Checo feel a bit bad, though it also gave him some relief seeing that the Australian was truly concerned and, why not say it, in love, willing to do anything for his little Y/N.

Finally, he let out a small sigh, trying to calm himself. He repeated your words over and over in his mind before saying anything else because if you had never disappointed him in your life, then he didn’t want to disappoint you just because you were in love.

I’m not a little girl anymore.

“Checo…” Piastri spoke, but Checo raised a finger, silencing him instantly.

“I’m only going to say this once: you better not hurt my daughter, or I’ll hurt you when I kick you off the track or crash into you accidentally. Is that clear?”

Oscar swallowed hard, feeling that Checo wasn’t joking.

“Understood…”

“And as for you,” Checo now spoke to you, completely stunned, “don’t think this is over. Your mother, you, and I will have a conversation about this and several other topics when we get home.”

Unprotected wild sex, alcohol, and drugs, for sure, you thought, forcing a smile to try to hide your worry.

“Now go on and keep loving each other, but be careful where and how you do it. I don’t want to be a grandfather just yet.”

With those words, Checo left, leaving you both.

“Well… now he knows. Finally,” Oscar said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I told you he was intense. Do you believe me now?”

“Of course, mi amor,” the Australian replied, taking your hand and heading to your room in the McLaren motorhome, so, as Checo had said, you wouldn’t become grandparents just yet. “Your dad scared me, but I’m not going to lie to you, he gave me enough motivation to beat him in every race from now on.”

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crystallinestars · 2 months ago

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Just Confess Already! Part 2

Drabbles about Genshin men (or you) confessing with the help of a wingman. This is pure fluff.

Characters: Kazuha, Kinich, Ororon, Wanderer, and Cyno.

Part 1 here.

I apologize if the endings sound abrupt, I've edited and rewritten this many times, and at this point I just want to get this finally posted. I also apologize for the length, my writing style has changed since part 1.

🍁 Kazuha

Everyone and their mother at The Crux could tell you and Kazuha had a thing for each other. The way you guys spent most of your free time in each other’s company discussing poetry or music, the way Kazuha always volunteered to help you with your tasks, how you took care of Kazuha when he got drunk, and just the overall subtle romantic tension about your pair tipped off pretty much everyone.

Though Beidou didn’t want to pry into the love lives of her crew, she’d sometimes catch glimpses of you and Kazuha chatting up in the crow’s nest of the ship and noted that the way you smiled at each other was endearing. Otherwise, she paid little attention to it, thinking it was only a matter of time until one of you confessed and you guys became an official couple.

However, that time never came. The two of you pussyfooted around the topic of laying bare your feelings, and everyone at The Crux was getting a little annoyed that you were stuck in the pining phase. There was a limit to how long Beidou could tolerate watching you give each other pining glances without snapping and telling you two to get together already.

One time when you were out on an errand, Beidou and her crew invited Kazuha for a drink. The friendly and cheerful atmosphere prompted some members to share their life stories, and the topic breached romance. Someone asked Kazuha why he hadn’t confessed to you yet, and the drunken ronin answered that he treasured your friendship and didn’t want to jeopardize it in case you didn’t feel the same way.

Beidou could only scoff at his excuse. It was so obvious that you liked him back, and since when was Kazuha such a coward? He could go up against the Raiden Shogun’s deadly Musou no Hitotachi, but had his tail between his legs at the prospect of admitting he loved you to your face? Preposterous! Moreover, she had to tell her crew to settle down because they were creating a spectacle out of your crushes on each other and making bets on which one of you would confess first (she betted on you).

If Kazuha was too much of a coward, Beidou thought, then maybe you’d be braver.

That same evening, she happened to find you alone in your cabin and took the opportunity to bring up the issue of your longtime crush on Kazuha. Though she was no expert on romance, Beidou wanted to help you. She got you to open up and confide in her, patiently listening while you expressed your fears about confessing to Kazuha. You also didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him, so Beidou stated outright that he returned your feelings. If you didn’t believe her, then see for yourself.

With that, she pried open a window in the cabin. Over the gentle lapping of the waves, you heard the crew’s laughter up on the deck, and the faint sound of Kazuha’s familiar voice. It was a little difficult to hear what he was saying over the crew’s chatter, and his speech was slightly slurred, but you made out a few words. He frequently spoke your name while reciting a few clumsy haikus. But they weren’t just any random poems about the sea or sky—they were love haikus.

Beidou patted your shoulder and told you to have courage instead of wasting your life wondering about what-ifs and regretting not doing anything.

Over the following days, Beidou sent you and Kazuha out on joint errands in Liyue Harbour. The errands themselves weren’t all that important, but they served as good excuses to give you two some alone time. Kazuha was no fool and quickly deduced that Beidou was setting you two up on purpose, but he wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to spend more time with you.

Beidou hoped something would finally change by the time you returned, and sure enough, when she spotted you and Kazuha walking back to the ship, she smiled. The two of you were holding hands and smiling warmly at each other, a good sign that your once-suppressed feelings were now in the open. Naturally, the rest of the crew noticed the change as well and grew excited when you confirmed that you and Kazuha were now in a romantic relationship.

That night, they brought out the good wine and food to congratulate you and Kazuha on finally getting together. Most of the Crux’s crew joined on the festivities, with some members being nosy and asking you for details on how it happened and who confessed first.

When you admitted to confessing first, Beidou smugly accepted her winnings and took a big swig of her drink before yelling out a cheer. Her crew followed suit in toasting and cheering much to your and Kazuha’s embarrassment, but it was all in good fun. Beidou made sure to make it up to you by distracting the crew with a drinking game and sending you a wink as she allowed you and Kazuha to make a quiet escape from the party. The Crux gang would have plenty of time to tease you in the future—for now, you and Kazuha deserved to enjoy this newfound relationship without others poking their noses where they don’t belong. Beidou would make sure of it.

🟩 Kinich

Kinich’s relationship with you perplexed K’uhul Ajaw. The Almighty Dragonlord couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but something between you two changed. Recently, Kinich had been giving you discounts whenever you asked for his help, and sometimes even did things for you for free. Kinich the Malipo giving someone special treatment? Unheard of! And on top of all that, his servant had been visiting you more frequently during downtime, and there was also that strange glint in Kinich’s eyes whenever he looked at you, something akin to endearment—

Oh.

Kinich liked you.

Oh, this was going to be good!

Ajaw’s diabolical nature wouldn’t let him keep Kinich’s feelings for you a secret. The next time you came to hang out with their duo, the saurian waved his little stubby arms and ran his mouth as soon as you were within earshot. “Hey, human! Our lowly servant has developed romantic feelings for you like some sort of prepubescent schoolboy! Isn’t that a riot?” and cackled, thinking Kinich would be thoroughly humiliated and put in his place.

To Ajaw’s dismay, instead of looking disgusted by the news, you appeared… hopeful? A tad surprised by his outburst, but was that hope shining in your eyes? To Ajaw’s even greater dismay, Kinich lacked any sort of outward reaction to having his crush on you vocalized so brazenly. Instead, the saurian hunter told you to ignore Ajaw’s nonsensical words in his usual calm manner, before smacking the pixelated menace away for a timeout. Right before he got locked away, Ajaw managed to catch a glimpse of disappointment in your eyes when Kinich brushed the situation aside as if it were nothing.

That day, K’uhul Ajaw realized that Kinich’s feelings were not one-sided like he originally thought. You liked Kinich too. The mere thought of you two acting all lovey-dovey with each other was sickening, but the saurian figured poking fun at you and Kinich would be a good source of entertainment.

After that day, Ajaw became even more insufferable. Every chance he got, he’d swoop in with a taunting remark and make fun either you, Kinich, or both.

One time while accompanying Kinich through a dense forest, you slipped on a wet tree root and were sent falling towards the ground. However, Kinich swiftly caught you and pulled you to his chest to help stabilize you. Ajaw had a field day laughing and crowing about how scandalous you were for practically throwing yourself at Kinich like that. Were you that desperate to be in his arms? Disgusting!

The saurian also used every opportunity he could find to reveal all of Kinich’s secrets to you. Did you know Kinich gave you special treatment? No? Are you blind?! Can’t you tell he does stuff for you for free? Why do you think he brings you game and wild berries free of charge every once in a while--to show off how good he is at hunting?! Have you at least noticed Kinich smiled more and acted softer towards you, or are you really that blind? He doesn’t treat anyone else that way, you know! …And so on and so forth, though most of his attempts to out Kinich are interrupted by the man himself locking Ajaw away before the dragon reveals too much.

As fun as it was to watch your pair’s awkward attempts at showing signs of affection for each other, Ajaw eventually grew frustrated with standing witness to the mutual pining that never progressed anywhere. It made the little saurian’s blood boil with annoyance.

Whenever he and Kinich were alone, Ajaw would complain that the hunter should stop being a dimwit and a coward and just confess to you already! How could he not see that you obviously liked him back?! Seriously, how bad was his luck to end up with such an imbecile for a servant?!

Kinich coolly rejected Ajaw’s insistence for confessing his feelings. It was not in his nature to recklessly rush into the unknown—he needed to carefully analyze and weigh his options before coming to a sound decision. As such, his relationship with you was not to be rushed. This didn’t sit well with Ajaw, but no matter what he said, Kinich stubbornly refused to listen.

The Dragonlord’s patience reached a breaking point during one fateful day. It was getting dark, and Kinich had offered to escort you home. Once you were safely at your doorstep, you made the bold move of kissing Kinich’s cheek in thanks. For a split moment, Ajaw swore there was palpable romantic tension between you as your and Kinich’s eyes met (gross). Kinich glanced at your lips, looking as if he wanted to lean in and kiss you (doubly gross) and Ajaw prepared himself to make disgusted gagging noises, except… nothing happened. With a seldom seen blush on his cheeks, Kinich awkwardly cleared his throat and bid you goodnight, preparing to leave.

Ajaw exploded.

“This is painful to watch! You two were clearly made for each other—both equally cowardly and blind to each other’s feelings! Just admit you like each other already; you’re not fooling anyone! Kinich, you cowardly, brainless, insufferable insect—just lean in for that kiss, you obviously want to! And you! Stop waffling and just spit out that you like Kinich already! Agh, watching you two is torture! What did the great K’uhul Ajaw do to deserve this fate?!” he yelled, turning red in the face.

Kinich promptly locked Ajaw away, for which the saurian would later chew him out once he was free, but not before interrogating you and the hunter about whether you finally confessed. Once Kinich revealed that yes, you had talked it out and admitted your mutual feelings for each other and were now in a relationship, Ajaw could finally feel some sense of peace regarding the situation.

Feeling proud of his contributions, Ajaw puffed out his chest and told you and Kinich to pucker up and kiss his feet in worship, for only with the help of the Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw has your relationship progressed instead of stagnating like swamp water.

Though the saurian relic continued to be an annoyance, even Kinich had to admit that Ajaw played a part in getting you together. Though not in the form of worship or foot kissing, Kinich did repay the favor by procuring some quenepa berries and other fruits that Ajaw liked, hosting a small feast as a thank you. Though Ajaw complained about being scammed, the snacks did the trick of improving his mood and keeping him occupied while you and Kinich had some precious time to yourselves.

🦇 Ororon

Ever since you and Ororon were children, Citlali observed that the two of you got along well. So well, in fact, that Ororon had developed a little crush on you. He would pluck flowers from a nearby meadow to give you, follow you around like a loyal puppy, and one time, Ororon told Citlali that he hoped to marry you one day.

Citlali couldn’t help but find Ororon’s crush on you adorable, and a part of her anticipated the day when you both grew up and got married. She had no doubt you would make the sweetest couple among the Masters of the Night-Wind.

Ororon’s attraction to you persisted into adulthood. At that point, Citlali could no longer call it a cute little crush— “Love” was a more apt description for how Ororon felt towards you, even if he tried to hide the depth of his attachment to you. He was content to stay as just your friend and not risk ruining the close bond you had in case you didn’t return his feelings. Citlali was a little frustrated that Ororon continued to pine for you without doing anything about it, but she knew better than to force the stubborn boy to do something he didn’t want to. If you were both happy with the way things were, then why change them?

However, during one of her rare trips to the market for some divination supplies, Citlali overheard a conversation between two tribespeople. The topic of conversation was about love, and one of the men bashfully admitted that he thought you were pretty and that he hoped to ask you out on a date soon. This news washed over Citlali like a bucket of cold water as worry seized her heart.

This wasn’t the first time others had expressed romantic interest in you. After all, you’ve always had a bit of a reputation among the Masters of the Night-Wind for being attractive, so it wasn’t surprising others had an eye on you. However, now that you were an independent adult, it wouldn’t be strange for you to look for a partner to settle down with, right? Knowing Ororon, the dimwit wouldn’t ever think to confess, and what if someone else confessed before he did and stole your heart?

Citlali didn’t want to force you to choose Ororon, but she didn’t want things to end without her beloved grandson at least taking a shot at winning you over. The last thing she wanted was for Ororon to be left heartbroken and disappointed all because he let the chance to be with you slip from his fingers.

With these troubled thoughts, Citlali sought out Ororon and announced that he needed to stop dawdling and actively pursue you unless he wanted to watch your heart get stolen by somebody else. Citlali’s sudden proclamation confused Ororon, so she explained that he’s not the only one who is in love with you and that there’s a risk of you choosing someone else to spend your life with.

As she expected, Ororon stubbornly refused to go along with her urging, saying that who you wanted to end up with was your choice and he would respect it. Though he said that, Citlali could see it on Ororon’s face that the mere thought of you falling for someone else hurt him, and she couldn’t help but feel bad for her grandson.

After much convincing and reassurance, Citlali got Ororon to agree to court you and promised to come up with a plan to help him in this endeavour. There was, however, one major problem: how were two socially awkward outcasts supposed to win someone’s heart? Having never been courted herself, Citlali had no past experiences to draw from when designing her plan, but it shouldn’t be too hard, right? She’d read a lot of romance novels imported from Inazuma, so maybe if she got Ororon to do some of the same things the male leads did, then it would curry your favour? Regardless, it was worth a shot.

The plan was for Ororon to prove his worth as a suitable partner by giving you gifts, compliments, and always being there for you no matter what it was. In Ororon’s opinion, he was already doing all of these things for you as a friend, but Citlali insisted that his actions needed to be infused with romance to distinguish them from gestures of friendship. Her grandson was still reluctant to actively court you, but he had promised to try and try he did. Except, his approach subverted Citlali’s expectations.

When it came to giving gifts, instead of presenting jewellery, woven scrolls, or useful gadgets, the young man gifted you game he had caught in the wild and the best selection of produce from his garden. Citlali could only facepalm when Ororon told her which gifts he planned to give you, but she also knew he put genuine thought into them. Ororon handpicked the nicest veggies he could find in his garden and personally delivered them to your doorstep instead of sending Ifa like he normally would. Citlali told him that giving gifts in person held more meaning, and Ororon appeared to have taken her words to heart.

Ororon also gifted you flowers much like he did when you were little. However, this time he didn’t give you flowers plucked from the wild. Instead, he gifted you potted plants that he had also grown in his garden. “They will live and look pretty for longer,” he told you, then received a flick to the forehead once Citlali found out what he did.

His compliments were no better. Saying things like his vegetables grew better whenever you visited his home and spoke to his plants or your presence being calming for the aphids, was the best Ororon could do. Citlali admonished him for these strange compliments, but to Ororon, that was the highest praise anyone could receive. After all, you were an amazing person, and even his plants and aphids sensed it.

Ororon’s courtship was unconventional to say the least, and granny Itztli worried whether her grandson made a favorable impression on you. To help improve Ororon’s image in your eyes, Citlali sought you out more often to put in a good word for her grandson and get you to see him as a man. She highlighted Ororon’s good points to you, commenting how Ororon is a bit peculiar, but he’s also kind, resourceful, accepting, gentle, and so much more. A truly good kid. He would make an excellent romantic partner, wouldn’t you agree?

Her pushiness flustered you, but it also allowed Citlali to gauge how you felt about Ororon, and she had to contain her excitement when she pieced together that you loved him back. In her giddiness, she urged Ororon to confess.

When the day of the confession came, Citlali hid among some trees while keeping an eye on you and Ororon. She didn’t intent to spy, but the anxiety over how the confession would go made her antsy and she couldn’t sit still at home. She watched as Ororon offered you a basket of his finest produce and finally professed his love. The confession came out awkward because he tried to recite what he practiced with Citlali a few days prior, and he seemed to realize this because Ororon then took your hand and placed it against his chest. Using his own words this time, Ororon explained that he genuinely did love you, and the racing of his heart should be proof enough that you were more than just a friend in his eyes. However, it was alright if you didn’t feel the same way about him.

Citlali had to clamp her hands over her mouth to hold back from squealing in giddiness as she watched you reciprocate Ororon’s feelings. She would later apologize for spying since she knew it was wrong, but it filled her with joy to witness the blossoming of love between you. In some ways, this was better than any romance novel she had read in all her years of living, and it warmed her heart to see you both so happy.

Even if it was a childhood fantasy, perhaps Ororon’s wish of marrying you was not that far off now? Citlali certainly hoped so.

☂️ Wanderer

Nahida was no expert on romance, but she had observed enough couples during her 500-year-long imprisonment to know what romantic attraction looked like. The strange air surrounding you and Wanderer must have been that, she speculated, as she watched Wanderer hand you a box of your favorite foods with the flimsy excuse of having made too much. For your part, you seemed genuinely touched by the gesture despite Wanderer’s grumbling, much to Nahida’s delight. Wanderer’s prickly personality pushed some people away, but not you. You stayed by his side and gave him the companionship he needed, helping Wanderer open up and heal from his trauma.

It was clear you deeply cared for the young man, and a little peek into your mind confirmed to Nahida that yes, you did love him romantically. She couldn’t read Wanderer’s mind since he blocked all her attempts to do so, but she didn’t need mindreading to conclude that he loved you too.

When she next spoke with Wanderer, she carefully asked if he loved you. Wanderer’s response was a gruff “No” and “Stop asking”, however Nahida could tell he wasn’t being honest with his feelings. If he didn’t love you, then why did he treat you differently compared to everyone else? His manner of speech is gentler when with you, and despite all his grumbling he still complies with all your requests no matter how irritating he may find them. Not to mention, he spends most of his free time in your company, goes out of his way to make you little gifts and cook your favorite dishes. Surely all these behaviours were proof that you were someone special to him?

Being effectively cornered, the puppet had no choice except to come clean about his hidden feelings. With scowl and a blush on his cheeks, Wanderer reluctantly admitted that yes, he likes you, but it was none of Nahida’s business and she’d better stay out of it.

Despite Wanderer’s warning, the Dendro Archon wanted to help get you together. She felt confident that if both of you put in a little effort, a beautiful romance could blossom between you. Still, she didn’t want to outright reveal your feelings for each other. She believed that each of you should relay these intimate feelings yourselves. All Nahida would do is give you a gentle nudge in the right direction.

To help her with this task, Nahida sought help from a few Aranara and asked them to keep an eye on you and Wanderer and report any meaningful details that could help her bring you together. Through her little helpers, Nahida learned the full extent of Wanderer’s affections for you, and she couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was, especially when it came to you.

Using this acquired knowledge, the Dendro Archon frequently brought up Wanderer in your conversations with her to explain the thoughtfulness behind some of his gifts and words. For as frank as he usually was with people, Wanderer was more close-lipped about the true extent of his feelings, so Nahida had some work cut out for her in making you realize how much he truly cared about you.

For example, the next time Wanderer gave you your favorite food with the excuse that he’d made too much, Nahida revealed to you that he actually spent several days perfecting the recipe before finally giving the dish to you.

That hand-made bracelet he gifted you, saying he got it for free during an arts and crafts event he visited? Wanderer actually made it himself during that event and used beads of your favorite colors. The Aranara watched him spend a lot of time crafting that bracelet with the greatest care, but Nahida left that part out.

In addition, she would subtly drop hints for you to invite Wanderer to hang out more often. For example, the Zubayr Theater was hosting a play and Nahida heard there was a discount if you bought two tickets. Why don’t you go and invite Wanderer to come with you?

As for Wanderer, she discreetly told him that you once mentioned wanting to try out a new drink at Puspa Cafe but had nobody to go with, so why not be a good friend and take you there himself? Wanderer initially objected, but ultimately caved in and invited you to the Café while commenting that a certain annoying sprout said you wanted to try a new drink there, though deep down he glad for the opportunity to spend more time with you. Nahida could tell by the way Wanderer went out of his way to spoil you that day, buying you anything you wanted and keeping you company until the sun set.

Little by little, Nahida softened Wanderer towards the possibility of being in a romantic relationship with you, and helped you gather the courage to confess. Wanderer was unlikely to ever confess first, so the responsibility rested on your shoulders. She could tell you were nervous about laying bare your feelings, but she reassured you that things would go well. You only needed to take that leap of faith.

When you finally confessed, Nahida and the Aranara secretly observed the scene from behind a nearby corner, curious to see how things would go while also quietly cheering you on (not that you knew). When a flustered Wanderer accepted your confession, Nahida was overjoyed. She had fun guiding both of you towards this moment, but the satisfaction of knowing you could finally be together the way you always wished was rewarding in its own way. Even when Wanderer later confronted her about spying on you during your confession and scolded her for it, the little Archon’s happiness didn’t wane. She looked forward to seeing what your newfound relationship would blossom into, and had no doubt it would be something beautiful and pure, just like your love for each other.

👁️‍🗨️ Cyno

It was no secret to Tighnari that you and Cyno liked each other. He had known about your mutual crushes as far back as your student days at the Akademiya where you first met. You became fast friends with him and Cyno, but Tighnari couldn’t help but think Cyno was a bit more special to you than you let on. After all, you were one of the few who wasn’t intimidated by Cyno’s perpetual stern facial expressions and actively sought him out, and who actually laughed at his lame jokes.

Tighnari also knew about Cyno’s crush on you since his friend confided about it to him. Not that Cyno needed to say anything because Tighnari could see his attraction to you clear as day. Cyno’s eyes lit up whenever he saw you in the distance, he tried to act “cooler” in your presence in an attempt to impress you, and Tighnari swore that if Cyno had a tail, it would have wagged like a dog’s every time you laughed at his jokes.

Though he knew about your mutual romantic attraction to each other, Tighnari didn’t want to stick his nose into your love lives. He figured you guys would resolve everything yourselves in due time.

However, nothing changed even after you guys graduated. Your group remained close friends and saw each other regularly, but Tighnari was starting to lose his patience with how you and Cyno hopelessly pined for each other. He had already lost count of the number of times each of you came to him for advice on how to win the other over.

Cyno asked Tighnari’s opinion on a lot of things: Would you like his newest joke? Would you be okay with Cyno volunteering to be your bodyguard for your upcoming desert excursion? Which of his limited edition TCG cards best represented you? Cyno wanted to express how much you meant to him by giving you a card that reminded him of you.

You were no better. Tighnari had lost count of the number of times you approached him with questions about Cyno’s work schedule. Your excuse was that you wanted to plan hangouts with him, Collei, and Cyno during their days off, but Tighnari knew there was another reason why you asked about Cyno’s schedule in particular. He had half a mind to tell you to ask Cyno yourself because it was obvious that you just wanted to spend more time with the General Mahamatra. You also pestered Tighnari with questions about Cyno’s TCG deck. Much like his friend, you wanted to express your appreciation for Cyno by giving him cards he didn’t have yet.

Seriously, you two were a match made in heaven…

Tighnari would have found your mutual crushes on each other endearing, if only he wasn’t stuck being the middleman. As it stood, Tighnari wanted nothing more than to throttle both of you for pussyfooting around your feelings and getting him caught up in being your messenger. He was on the brink of snapping and sitting you both down to explain that your feelings were mutual, so just hurry up and get together already.

That’s why the next time Cyno approached him with another question about you, Tighnari took the opportunity to convince his friend to confess. He and Collei assured Cyno that you liked him a lot, and urged him to tell you his feelings. Cyno was hesitant but did seem to want some closure about whether you liked him back or not, so Tighnari gave him an incentive. How about the next time he played TCG with you, you guys set some stakes? Why not have a rule that the loser must tell the winner a secret? If Cyno lost, he would have to confess.

Cyno wasn’t fond of the idea initially, but agreed after some contemplation, acknowledging that this method would be effective in giving him that necessary push. Still, Tighnari could tell Cyno was nervous about confessing, so he volunteered to come along as moral support, much to Cyno’s gratitude.

That was how Tighnari and Collei found themselves at Puspa Cafe, sitting a few tables away from you and Cyno, hidden from your line of sight. Tighnari tutored Collei while Cyno played that fateful round of TCG against you, but the Forest Ranger kept a close eye on his friend. Though he didn’t want to get too invested in Cyno’s love life, even he couldn’t help but grow anxious as he watched the TCG match end with Cyno’s loss.

Although Tighnari was too far away to hear what Cyno was saying, he could tell the moment of confession had come. Now, the ball was in your court.

You looked stunned by whatever Cyno said, but soon smiled and said something that made Cyno mirror the happy expression on your face and reach out to hold your hand. Though he couldn’t hear, Tighnari knew you had reciprocated his feelings. Even Collei quietly fawned over how cute you both looked. It had been a long journey, but he was truly happy for his friend. Out of everyone, Cyno was happiest with you, and Tighnari hoped you would continue to make him happy for many years to come.

With everything ending well, Tighnari beckoned Collei and discreetly left the cafe before you or Cyno noticed. As happy as he was for you guys, he dreaded the possibility of Cyno coercing them into a TCG match. With how elated his friend must be right now, it was only a matter of time until Cyno called him and Collei over for a new game to celebrate you accepting his feelings. In Tighnari’s opinion, you guys deserved to have some proper time to yourselves to explore your feelings and new relationship without him and Collei serving as thirdwheels. That, and he just really didn’t want to sit through another hour of watching Cyno show off for you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kinich x reader #ororon x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #cyno x reader

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meiyudo · 6 months ago

Text

Baby Fever

Anakin x f!reader

This is based off of number 2 of this list :)- I havent really delved into kink writing s sorry if this isnt the best haha- think of the reader as a padme- type figure

After seeing you interact with a lost child- Anakin thinks it’s time you had your own baby to look after…

warnings: P in V, smex, ani has a mean breeding kink, multiple orgasms, mentiond of pregnancy

________________

Floods of invigorating politicians and citizens exited the large Coruscant city center after a successful senate meeting. You had just finished pitching a plan that would excel the economy while also protecting labor’s rights.

You smiled as you stood from your podium once the majority of the crowds had exited- the whole public eye thing was a bit new to you.

For the longest time you worked behind the scenes helping other politicians with similar goals; it wasn’t until a few months ago that you, yourself, were appointed as your district’s senator.

You fixed your dress as you exited your booth and headed for the dimly lit corridors of the massive building. Most of the clamor had moved outside into the city square so the halls were mostly empty.

As you turned the corner a small smile found its way onto your face once you saw a familiar figure leaning against a marble pillar. Unmistakable robes and lightsaber clipped to the man’s belt.

“I wasn’t aware Jedi had any interest in politics” you said with a smirk as the man snaked a gloved arm around you before you could pass.

He pressed his face into your hair as he hugged you tighter to his chest, “We don’t, but you know all of my interest belongs to you”.

You sighed as he pressed a passionate kiss to the column of your neck.

“Ani- not here” you almost whimpered.

He quickly twirled you around to face him before holding your face in his hands, “why not?” he asked with a charming smirk- “we should let them all know”.

He glanced out the large windows down at the crowds of excited civilians- from up here they looked no larger than ants running for a sugar jar.

“They all love you, so why can’t I?” Anakin asked with a pout.

You sweetly smiled before placing a tender kiss to his pretty lips, “you can, and you do- you know the ramifications Anakin, you know we ca-“.

Anakin cut you off with another deep kiss before releasing you and playfully slapping your ass.

“Yeah yeah, I know” he huffed, “but they don’t know that”.

You rolled your eyes at your lover’s childish desires before leading him out of the building.

To avoid the spotlight and attention of the crowds, you dawned a hooded cloak before exiting the center.

Anakin followed closely behind; a hand already on his saber just in case. Thankfully being in public with Anakin seemed normal to some degree because you had become such a public figure- Jedi were often tasked with protecting political officials.

So Anakin looked no different than a routine bodyguard.

The crowds were easier to navigate now that you had some practice under your belt. You had almost made it to your reserved speeder when you felt a small tug on the hem of your long dress.

You smiled once you realized the tugging was coming from a small child, probably no older than four.

She looked up at you with wonder as she mustered up the courage to speak to you.

“Senator?” She finally asked.

You nodded with a smile before turning to her. A wide grin settled onto her small face as she looked you up and down.

“Pretty” she giggled.

Anakin stood a few feet behind you, trying to see what was going on over the people standing in the way- he became anxious when you dipped from view.

The Jedi quickly weaved through the remaining people to see you crouched down speaking to a small child. His expression immediately softened as he watched you interact so sweetly with the girl; making exaggerated faces at the child’s comments, pointing out her cute accessories to make her giggle, picking her up to shield her from oncoming pedestrians-

Anakin never really thought about having kids- of course he wanted them someday; he wanted to create life with you and wanted to raise his children with a childhood he never got to have. But it never seemed like the right time.

The two of you had been careful when engaging in those activities to avoid an unexpected surprise when you still hadn’t quite figured out how to navigate your secret relationship.

But each time Anakin fucked you he got closer and closer to giving up on the unspoken rule; he got closer and closer to cumming deep inside of you without any intention of pulling out.

You knew Anakin was a passionate lover but you never considered that your sweet, respectful Jedi lover fantasized about locking you into a mating press while he fucked his children into your fertile womb.

Anakin had no timeline of when he wanted them, but he knew you’d make a great mother no matter how long (or short) he waited.

Though seeing you interact in real time just made him want the fantasy to spring to reality.

_________

“Hello sweetie, where are your parents?” You cooed at the small girl in your arms.

She giggled and shrugged, making you frown.

“Well that’s not good, they’re probably worried about you” you said, scanning the crowd for anyone who held any semblance to the tiny child in your arms.

She, on the other hand, had no interest in finding her guardians- instead she was focused on the shiny tinsel that had been put into your hair prior to your speech. Innocently, she flipped your hood off and began to touch your face as she admired your beauty in childlike wonder.

Before you could react, Anakin was by your side; he gently placed the cloak back over your head to protect you from interested onlookers.

“Ani! You came out of nowhere” you giggled lightheartedly as he guided you off to the side of the still buzzing city square.

“Who’s this?” He asked with a smile as the little girl in your arms hid her face in your shoulder.

“It’s ok baby, he’s a Jedi- he’s very strong and he’s here to protect us” you whispered to the little girl in your arms.

“Jedi?” her green eyes brightened as she became excited at the title.

She continued asking you questions but all Anakin could focus on was how beautiful you looked interacting with such a young child. How natural you looked.

Is this how you would interact with your own children? With his children?

He couldn't help but adjust his pants as he felt them becoming increasingly tighter.

Soon the overexcited child had fallen asleep in your comforting arms; shortly, you began cautiously walking around in hopes to find her parents. The jedi beside you watched as you subconsciously brushed the girl's hair and gently bounced her on your hip.

Before long you finally stumbled across two very worried adults calling for who you could only assume was fast asleep in your arms.

“Oh Maker! There she is!” the woman gasped as she reached for her baby.

The Man she was with breathed out a sigh of relief and quickly joined her as you handed her the sleeping child.

“Thank you so mu- Senator!” the man’s eyes widened once he realized who it was.

“We are so sorry to have troubled you- please forgive us for our carelessness” the woman bowed.

“No, no! It was no trouble at all- you have a beautiful daughter” you smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair away from the girl’s face.

“Thank you, thank you so much. We loved your speech- you are just what this city needs” the mother offered before turning to her husband.

You bowed and met the silent figure watching from the sidelines; “Sorry Ani, we can go now”.

Anakin just nodded silently and trailed you with an uncharacteristically dazed aura.

Once you were in your speeder, Anakin hopped in the driver’s seat and jetted off towards your apartment; his strong jaw clenched as he imagined you full with a child.

He flinched as you placed a tender hand on his tensed thigh, “Ani- are you alright?”.

________________________

A cacophony of moans and groans ricocheted off of the walls of your penthouse bedroom as your lover continuously plunged his cock in and out of your abused hole. He had been at it for two hours already and had already cum once (while you came thrice).

Once you entered your private apartment, all of his carefully crafted will-power snapped and he went feral; the natural urge to breed you, hit him like a bus.

He was all over you; your lips, neck, breasts, cunt- you were his and he was going to make damn sure it stayed that way.

“A-Ani! S-slow down!” you cried as he jetted his thick cock in and out of you.

“S-Sorry baby, C-can’t- I gotta- gotta fill you up” he winced as he fucked you through his own overstimulation.

His heavy balls slapped against your ass and a ring of foam from your combined juices formed at the base of his cock.

He already came inside of you once, what more could he want?

“Baby- t’s too much! You're-spilling all over”.

“N-no, not enough- gotta fuck a baby into you” he grunted against your bruised neck.

His confession had your eyes snapping open, “What?!”.

“Looked too damn good with that baby on your hip- I-I wanna see you with my child on your hip in-instead” he babbled as he pulled you flush against his chest and rutted his desperate hips into yours.

So that's what this was all about.

Admittedly you didn’t mind his desires, deep down you wanted the same thing… you wanted him to reach so deep that he fucked one into you on the spot.

“Oh Fuck Ani- I wan- I want your kids” you admitted ad you raked your long nails down his toned back.

“Shit babe- squeezing me so tight” he whined as he gripped onto your hips with a caging grasp (surely you would be bruised tomorrow).

He slammed his hips flush against yours with intense force as he felt the coil in his stomach begin to snap- this was it, this was the orgasm that was going to give you a child.

He just knew it.

“Ahh c-cumming! Gonna give y-you a child- Shit! i-i ‘m going to fuck my baby into you” he babbled as he felt his hot, thick, warm seed shoot out of his oversensitive tip into your gushing cunt as your own orgasm washed over your like a crest-fallen wave.

“Ani!” you cried as your legs began to shake from the overpowering climax mixed with your exhaustion.

You clawed onto him so hard that you swore you drew blood. Anakin, on the other hand, dove down and captured you into a tight embrace; his mechanical hand making you gasp at the sudden coolness.

His body shook with pleasure and overstimulation as he struggled to rut his hips into you to push the last bit of spend further into you with shaky breaths.

Once you came down from your high, you were so tired that you couldn’t even bother to ask Anakin to clean you up; you half expected him to fall asleep inside of you based on how tired he also looked.

“Gonna make you a mommy- you’ll look s-so good- so round with our child” Anakin mumbled into your neck before slowly turning over so that you were on top of him (his dick still inside).

You hummed in contempt before drifting to sleep as he gently brushed your hair with hsi flesh hand.

“The two of you should get some sleep now- I love you” Anakin whispered before drifting right after you.

You would have giggled at Anakin’s addition of “two” when speaking to you and your hypothetical baby, but as usual your lover was right.

The famed “Jedi perception” was affirmed 9 months later when you cradled not one, but two small bundles of joy. You sat on your couch as you fed your children and Anakin couldn't help but smirk at the scene before him, this is just what he wanted… he couldn’t wait till you could have another one.

***

(a/n: ngl im not crazy big on kids but breeding is hot 🤭🤭 hope this lived up to the idea on the list :0)

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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago

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Leo’s Little Love : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: the birth of your daughter was supposed to be the happiest moment for you and charles, but both of you forgot about leo too

Your little family had almost been complete for quite some time. You, Charles and Leo. The perfect trio. Why fix something that isn’t broke? Why add to the chaos of your crazy lives? Well, because you both couldn’t wait to become parents.

It never was meant to be so soon, neither you or Charles had planned to fall pregnant quite so suddenly but your life had always been mayhem, and pregnancy was just another cog to add to the wheel of things that you needed to juggle together.

It had been touch and go for quite some time as your baby’s arrival loomed. With just two weeks to go Charles had never been happier to see the start of the summer break which meant at last he could be glued to your side and be there just in case anything happened.

Being at home was something that Charles very quickly got used to, laid out on the sofa with you tucked into his side. Charles didn’t always get his own way though, with Leo snuggled just underneath your bump to block Charles holding onto it.

“I wonder how he’s going to be.”

Your attention was pulled from your book when Charles spoke, following his gaze down to where Leo laid, snoring lightly with his eyes tight shut.

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

“I’m just thinking about when the baby arrives, do you think Leo will respond well to not being the centre of our attention anymore?” Charles questioned.

Your eyes flickered between Charles and Leo and your bump as you pondered Charles’ question. Truthfully, it was something that you had never quite thought about before, but if there was one word that you’d use to describe Leo, it was definitely needy.

“I think he’ll enjoy having someone else to be around,” you spoke after a few moments.

“He’ll definitely love an extra body to cuddle up to.”

It was almost as if he knew that you were talking about him, as Leo’s head lifted up and his wide eyes looked at you both as if to remind you that he could hear everything.

“You know, I’ve got a feeling that Leo and this baby might just end up being the best of friends, I definitely think we’re going to have trouble on our hands.”

Ever since that conversation you pictured how your family, or especially Leo, would adapt to the baby, counting down the days until all those dream scenarios became a reality.

And just a couple of weeks later your little girl arrived. It was tougher than you could have ever imagined, but with Charles not leaving your side for the many hours that you were in labour for, your family was soon complete. Charles was an emotional mess beside you, but through his tears he knew that he’d just experienced the best moments of his entire life.

You might’ve been a little bit bias, but your baby girl was the definition of perfect. Straight away you were drawn to her bright eyes, a striking resemblance to Charles’. They captured your attention, just like Charles’ had done many years ago when the two of you first met.

And as Charles held her for the first time and you got your first look at the two of them side by side, you knew you had a daddy’s girl on your hands. She was instantly besotted, settled and comfortable in Charles’ strong hold, almost as if you were the one who was intruding on the moment between your husband and your child despite being the one to bring her into the world.

“It’s a good job we’ve got Leo otherwise I think I’d be outnumbered at home with you two,” you joked as Charles made himself comfortable.

You knew deep down though you wouldn’t have Leo for long, as the two of you arrived home with your daughter. It had been a couple of days since he got to see you and Charles, unaware that a new arrival was waiting on the other side of the door to greet him too.

Together you took things slowly as you returned to your apartment, Charles took Leo into your bedroom whilst you settled in the living room with your daughter. Once you were sure that she was settled you called through to Charles who poked his head out from behind the bedroom door.

“Are you absolutely sure about doing this now?” Charles nervously asked you.

“Charles, we’re going to have to do it sooner or later. We might as well get it over with whilst they’re both pretty settled.”

He trusted you more than anyone, and so Charles decided to open the bedroom door and allow Leo to come out. It was as if nothing was going on as if strolled through the apartment, that was until his eye was caught by the carrier that sat on your living room floor. Charles came over and sat beside you, his hand on your thigh as Leo began to inspect.

Leo had a little sniff around the carrier as he familiarised with the something new that had entered his home. After giving him a moment you reached into the carrier and lifted your daughter out, holding her just in front of where Leo was.

It took a little while for Leo to stop fussing over your daughter, looking up at you and Charles. His eyes told the two of you that he approved of your little girl, walking away from her once he was happy with what was going on.

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

Your words were truer than ever though that night as Charles laid on your bed with his daughter laid just beside him. You walked through after taking an overdue shower, surprised to see that there was another addition to your bed. They say that three is a crowd, but not in this case.

Your heart felt like it could burst as your daughter laid between Charles on her left, and Leo on her right, his head almost touching hers as if to reassure her that he was right beside her too.

Charles’ eyes knew exactly where you were looking. You were supposed to be annoyed that your side of the bed had been stolen, but instead it was a memory that you wanted to snapshot for the rest of your life.

You were sure that you had never seen anything so beautiful in your life, Leo had made sure your daughter was well protected and surrounded by love. Even Charles couldn’t get as close to her as Leo was, firmly establishing himself as her number one.

Just like you, Charles couldn’t fault the scene that was unfolding in front of you though. Things had gone better than either of you could have ever imagined, all of the concerns that Charles had had long been forgotten now that your family of four were all home together.

“Why do I feel like we’re never going to be allowed near our daughter ever again?” Charles laughed across at you.

“I think out of the three of us, she’s definitely Leo’s love before she’s ours,” you added, unable to wipe the smile from your face. “I think they’re going to be the best of friends.”

Charles hummed in agreement with you, tilting his head down to watch them both once again. If he could pause time forever, he absolutely would. It was all that he had ever dreamt of, and so much more.

“We’ve got the two most beautiful children in the world.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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someone-will-remember-us · 2 months ago

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There is no collective noun for rapists but spend a week at the Pelicot trial and you wonder why. As the early morning queue of women who’ve come to support Gisèle Pelicot passes through security at the Palais de Justice, Avignon, you spy men with downturned faces scurrying across the lobby past the press. In court they sit on the left, clustered around a glass box containing more men, those in custody for the gravest crimes. Since there are 50 in total, the alleged rapists have been tried in batches and I’m just here for the final seven: Boris, Philippe, Nicolas, Nizair, Joseph, Christian, Charly.

Plus Dominique Pelicot himself, who invited them all into his marital bedroom, where he had his wife waiting, drugged and naked, and who joined in and filmed it all. Pelicot, 71, crumpled and fat now, but with a residual bulky power, sits sullenly alone with his guard in a separate glass box, protected from the other men who blame and detest him. Often after lunch he appears to doze off.

Such nondescript men. Grizzled, middle-aged (the mean is 47 years old), smart-casual in windcheaters or leather jackets and their best trainers, like minicab drivers waiting for fares. Ordinary men in many respects, not vagrants, junkies or career criminals. This week’s seven includes a fireman, an electrician and a journalist; several are fathers, two were keen weightlifters, one bred dogs. French trials helpfully begin with a personality profile formed from interviews with the men, their friends and colleagues. Poverty, domestic violence and mental breakdowns feature, but also that a man is “kind” or “gentle”, had a lovely childhood, adored his grandparents or is devoted to his mum.

Yet each one had sex with an unconscious woman, that is beyond doubt, thanks to Pelicot’s camera mounted on a tripod beside the bed, and by his own admission. “I am a rapist,” he has declared, “like the others in this room.”

From the Pelicot affair have come demands for reform to French rape law, for sexual violence to be treated more seriously, for an investigation into “chemical submission” — the coercive use of sedatives. But one question overshadows all others. How many men would have done the same? If Pelicot could recruit at least 70 willing participants (a number could not be identified) within a 25-mile radius of Mazan, the Provençal town where the couple retired, how many in the whole of France? As I walk through Avignon with Juliette Campion of radio station France Info, who bears the strain of reporting this case since September, she gestures to a bureau de tabac: “You think, ‘Would a guy in there have raped Gisèle? Or men in the boulangerie or those on the street?’ Women are looking at men differently: they’re asking, ‘Could you or you or you?’ ”

On the right of the court, behind her counsel of three serious, dark-haired young men, is Gisèle Pelicot with her female companion from victim support, leaning on the wall, as far from the men as the room allows, but facing her ex-husband. Her composure is remarkable. Although clearly tired and strained, she retains a quiet vivacity reflected in her clothes. Instead of shrinking away in black, she dresses each day as if meeting friends for drinks on a sunny terrace. A chic scarf, a faux fur bag, patent leather boots. Clothes that say, “I still have a life.” Every evening, when women line up to clap her out of court, she speaks to them warmly, neither reticent nor relishing the attention. Every day she walks through the cobbled streets past graffiti saying, “Gisèle, les femmes te remercient” (Gisèle, women thank you) to lunch at the same excellent brasserie, and people turn to gaze at her in awe.

The extraordinary woman who refused to be silenced

The humiliations of Gisèle Pelicot have a mythic quality. This is a woman who discovered the man she married aged 20, with whom she had three children and seven grandchildren, waited until she was deeply asleep before removing her pyjamas, dressing her in “sexy” underwear or writing on her buttocks, “I am a good submissive bitch,” then he let a stranger penetrate her inert body, filmed it, washed her intimately and replaced her pyjamas. This is a woman who thought she was going insane, had Alzheimer’s or a brain tumour, whose children thought she was dying, who stopped driving and going out alone, who slept all day and once woke puzzled why her hair was shorter. “But madame,” said her hairdresser, “you came in yesterday.” This is a woman who had mysterious gynaecological problems, including a swollen cervix (and still lives with four STDs), who thought her husband wonderful for accompanying her to medical tests, including an MRI.

This is a woman who, when her husband was arrested for “upskirting” in a Leclerc supermarket and police found the contents of his phone, discovered her whole 50-year marriage was a travesty, that he’d raped her in a service station car park, on Valentine’s Day and on her 66th birthday, and may have raped their daughter too. This is a woman who has listened to legal arguments about whether a man put his tongue inside or merely kissed her vagina, who heard another man say he’d only returned to rape her a second time because he couldn’t find anyone better, who sits in a courtroom while three giant TV screens show clips of her body being coldly humped by yet another “ordinary” guy.

Yet this is a woman who gathered up every scrap of her humiliation and with it constructed a mirror that she holds up defiantly to the court and to French society itself. “Shame must change sides,” she said, and in insisting the entire trial be conducted openly, that the worst men can do to women is witnessed by the whole world, she has done exactly that.

I ask many women I meet in Avignon how men in their lives regard the accused. They say they call them losers and freaks, that these are men on the margins, with no relation to themselves. But, along with the testimony I hear, the people I talk to believe this case raises many questions about French sexual mores. Whatever the decision later this month by five judges — there is no jury — Gisèle Pelicot will never be forgotten.

The court turns to Christian L, a fireman with a straggly castaway beard, who speaks from the glass box because after he was arrested, police found 4,000 child sex abuse and zoophilic images on his hard drive. We hear from his girlfriend, Sylvie, a small blonde in a grey hoodie, who says he’s a wonderful man, and is suspected of destroying evidence. Christian L recalls the victims he watched die in fires, the coffins of 11 colleagues he carried, the mental breakdowns that ensued. He was married but after his two daughters were born says he went off sex with his wife and turned to libertinisme. Strange, I think, that the French have coined this noble, philosophical concept, with its whiff of the barricades, to describe what we call swinging or dogging.

Like all the men, Christian met Pelicot through coco.fr — the murky, unmoderated site since closed down and now the focus of many major police investigations — on a forum called À son insu (without her knowledge). Christian L had already enjoyed “Sleeping Beauty” encounters with ten other couples. He spells out the rules: that you only dealt with the husband, sending him photos for approval, and during the sexual encounter he ran the show. Sometimes the wife woke up, other times not. How did he know, asked Gisèle’s lawyer, Stéphane Babonneau, that she consented?

“In a libertine encounter,” Christian L explained, “it is the husband’s responsibility to ensure consent.”

But how could you be sure?

“Are we expected to sign a contract?” Christian L spluttered.

“You could ask the woman,” Babonneau suggested.

How the case could change French law

Given the overwhelming video evidence, the defendants can only claim Pelicot deceived or drugged them, or they believed Gisèle was collaborating in a game. If this case were before a British court, rape would be decided by two tests: whether Gisèle had “capacity to consent” (tough to argue given Pelicot admits to drugging her) and whether the men had “reasonable belief” in her consent. Unlike most European countries, French rape law has no concept of consent. Rather, it is defined as penetration “by violence, constraint, threat or surprise”. (The prosecution case rests on a convoluted definition of surprise.)

But rather than demand consent be added to the law, French feminists are divided. Some agree with President Macron, who supports change; many others argue that consent would put the onus on the victim to prove her conduct was not an invitation. This seems an odd objection, especially as the whole purpose of the video evidence is to show no one could believe Gisèle capable of consent, given she was so lifeless one man asked Pelicot, “Is your wife dead?”

Alice Géraud is the author of Sambre, an investigation into how, due to the indifference and cruelty of police, a caretaker called Dino Scala in northern France managed to rape 54 women over a period of 30 years. “The Pelicot case with 50 defendants and one victim feels a strange inverse of Sambre.”

Géraud believes the Pelicot affair could provide the same impetus for change as a famous 1974 case of two Belgian tourists, Anne-Marie Tonglet and Aracelli Castellano, who, camping near Marseilles, were brutally raped by three local men. As was normal practice, the crime was downgraded from felony to misdemeanour on the basis the victims eventually stopped resisting. But the women, a lesbian couple, persisted and thanks to their feminist lawyer, Gisèle Halimi, it became the first rape case to be heard in the higher assizes court. Like Gisèle Pelicot, the women waived their anonymity. “We believe that it’s one thing for a man to rape,” said Halimi, “and another to know it’ll get around his village, his work, the papers.” Shame changed sides: the men were jailed and the French criminal code was rewritten defining rape as a serious offence.

For Géraud, the greatest current injustice is that whether a man has raped one women or 50, the maximum sentence is 20 years (here a serial rapist can be jailed for life). “This is law made by men,” she says, “with a grave lack of knowledge of rape culture.” She is scornful too about libertinisme as a universal excuse for male sexual exploitation. “Libertinisme was why Coco existed for so long,” she says. “It is the justification for prostitution, for the porn industry.”

Charly A is the youngest of all the defendants, just 22 when he first entered the Pelicot house. Small, bearded, now 30, we learn his childhood was chaotic, his father an alcoholic, his mother had many sexual partners; there are hints of abuse. “This is a family of secrets,” concludes the personality profiler. A psychiatrist adds he is immature, struggles to sustain relationships and instead consumes porn, “especially the Milf [Mother I’d like to f***] category with mature women”. In 2016, he made contact with Pelicot via Coco: “He said his wife would be lying there pretending to be asleep, he doesn’t tell me more.”

Over time Pelicot asks Charly if he knows anyone they could drug for sex and he proffers the only woman in his life — his own mother. Pelicot gives him pills (which Charly claims to have thrown away), shows him how to crush them, keeps pressing him to use them. “When can I come and we f*** your mother?” he asks in one video, but Charly keeps stalling, saying his brother is at home. Yet he returns to violate Gisèle, always with Pelicot, once with another man, a total of six times. “Did you feel like you were in a porn film?” asks Babonneau. Charly shakes his head.

Until this point, very late in the trial, the influence of internet pornography has barely been explored. The court only notes paedophiliac images, not “normal” usage. Yet Mathieu Lacambre, a psychiatrist who evaluates Charly A, remarks how porn sites not only push users to more extreme content but to enact porn fantasies in real life. “Until now Charly A was behind the screens,” he says. “Now [in Gisèle] he has an object served up on a platter a few miles from home. The sleeping princess Milf, voilà.”

A rented home in a quiet cul-de-sac

I drive out to Mazan, a lovely honey-stoned French village set in the vineyards below Mont Ventoux, where the Pelicots retired from Villiers-sur-Marne, a Paris commuter town where he was electrician and she was a manager at EDF. I imagine Gisèle browsing the little boutique, dropping into the beauty salon, sipping an aperitif outside the bistro. The home they rented for ten years is five minutes away in a quiet cul-de-sac of four houses behind tall cypress trees. It is lemon yellow with blue shutters, a pool, a very prominent alarm system, and new tenants. Given how many men knew her address, Gisèle fled four years ago for her own safety, with just a suitcase and her dog.

Today an immense cloud of migrating starlings swoops over the house like pixels in a photograph. This was where their grandchildren loved to visit in the summer, but also the centre of Dominique Pelicot’s porn operation. For what else was this grotesque man but a pornographic auteur?

We leave our car, just as Pelicot instructed the men, in the sports ground car park, by the bottle bank. I think of them texting their arrival, then creeping down the lane. (One man made his girlfriend wait in the car.) Pelicot would meet them at the door by the light of his phone, tell them to undress in the dark living room and warm their hands on a radiator. (They’d been instructed to be clean, not smell of cigarettes or wear cologne.) Then they were led into a bedroom with a TV, a chest of drawers, a bed with a naked Gisèle motionless on white sheets, and a mounted camera.

Whatever followed next was carefully orchestrated by Pelicot, a director urging on actors in stage whispers, since the objective was to do what they desired without waking Gisèle. Pelicot would tell them how and when to penetrate her, or hold his wife’s gaping mouth to facilitate oral sex. Given four Temesta (lorazepam), a powerful anti-anxiety drug he’d crushed into her wine or ice cream, his wife was like a patient on an operating table. Even so, if her arm gave an involuntary spasm,the men would scuttle from the room. A friend who has sat through many court videos says it was Pelicot ordering the humping men to go doucement — softly — that upset her, since she knew this was not out of tenderness for Gisèle.

All the while the camera rolled. Why did these men agree to have their crimes recorded? They say it was part of the deal, that Pelicot told them Gisèle was shy and liked to watch the sex later. But perhaps also because, in taking part, these men were promoted from porn consumers to creators. Filming was central to their fantasy. When Christian L finally climaxes he turns to give the camera a cheery thumbs-up.

For Pelicot, each film added to his oeuvre. Police discovered a carefully curated archive of 20,000 images and videos on hard drives and memory sticks showing 200 rapes. He gave each film a title like “Squirt on the ass”, “Cock in mouth” or “Jacques fingering”. This man, once caught by his daughter-in-law masturbating at his computer, was now a porn impresario.

The question at the centre of the case

Why did Pelicot do all this to a wife he professed to love, whom he called “a saint”? Was it to punish Gisèle for an affair early in their marriage (although he was serially unfaithful himself)? Or because when he’d asked her to join him in the libertinisme scene she’d refused — so he devised a way to make her. But Gisèle was not his first victim: Pelicot has admitted to the rape of an estate agent, using ether to drug her, in 1999, and will be tried for the rape/murder of another young estate agent, Sophie Narme, in 1991. The French police cold case bureau is investigating his possible links to many other unsolved crimes.

But as the “Without her knowledge” forum suggests, his was not a unique fantasy. The Pelicot case has illuminated the issue of “chemical submission”, not only drinks being spiked by strangers in bars, but drugs used to control partners within relationships. The French health service is noted for being blasé about prescribing heavy-duty medications, which is how Pelicot stockpiled his vast stash of Temesta.

Documentary-maker Linda Bendali has made a film for French TV about chemical submission, featuring seven cases, including a 13-year-old girl drugged by her father with medicine supposedly for her allergies, put in lingerie and raped over two years, and a 60-year-old woman drugged then raped at home by a man she was mentoring at work. “I’ve looked back at 30 years of press reports of rape,” says Bendali, “which includes dozens of women saying they woke up — mainly with men they know— unable to remember what happened.”

The Sleeping Beauty scenario, she says, is not merely a means for a man to get easy sexual access, but a way to enjoy absolute domination. “You are not even giving her the chance to consent,” says Bendali. “You can do anything you want to a drugged woman, for as long as you want. You can dress her how you want. These men want total power.” Pelicot is typical in filming his crimes: “Pictures are trophies. He was driven by a mix of desires for blackmail and voyeurism.”

Gisèle’s daughter, Caroline Darian, who was also drugged and photographed naked by her father, is heading a campaign on chemical submission, demanding police take samples of hair from rape victims, the only way sedation can be proved.

In court, I hear another psychiatrist tasked with assessing whether each of the final seven defendants has the profile of a sexual abuser. One by one, he exonerates the men, saying they are not dangerous or likely to reoffend, to the growing exasperation of Gisèle’s team. Then he reaches Charly A. “He doesn’t search [for victims] systematically,” says the psychiatrist. “He’s not a predator.” Finally, Babonneau explodes: “Six times with a sleeping woman and he’s not a sexual abuser?” The men do not identify as rapists because, like this psychiatrist, they define rape as frenzied sexual violence, not an opportunistic act performed to whispers in a private home. As one defendant put it, “It’s her husband, his house, his room, his bed, his wife.”

Women unite in the town of Mazan

Both in religious and political terms, Mazan is a conservative town: for 500 years it was part of a papal enclave and in the recent French election voted heavily for Marine Le Pen. Villagers regarded the Pelicot case with horror and sympathy which turned quickly to resentment when press named it l’affaire Mazan. Amid longstanding families who’ve known each other for generations, the Pelicots were outsiders who’d brought disgrace into a rural community. Tired of inquiries, the mayor, Louis Bonnet, 74, told the BBC, “It could have been far more serious. There were no kids involved. No women were killed.”

At the Lucky Horse Ranch outside Mazan, women victims of sexual violence receive equine therapy. I’m sceptical at first about how grooming and riding horses could help rape victims, but somehow these large, placid animals are calming and restorative. Here I meet Latika, 33, who at first was too timid to touch a Shetland pony, but now sits high on a saddle for our photograph.

Latika was separating from her husband, the father of her two children, but still sharing a house. He was violent, hitting her daughters, putting her in hospital with cuts and a broken rib. Two years after they’d last had sex, she woke to find him inside her. She believes the sweet tea he often gave her was laced with sedatives, but that night she hadn’t drunk it all. She realised he’d been drugging her for years — her mother recalls finding her deeply unconscious early in her relationship — and, worse, she was pregnant with a third child. She told the police, who addressed the domestic violence but ignored the rape. Her husband fled to Guadeloupe and she was left traumatised, fearful of leaving the house.

“I didn’t feel people really believed what had happened to me until Gisèle Pelicot spoke out,” says Latika, who has since made the police reopen her case. In October, as women across France holding white flowers protested in support of Gisèle, Latika headed the local march into Mazan and the next day Gisèle herself visited the ranch. “She said it is almost unbearable to return to this place where terrible things happened,” says Latika, “but she wanted to thank us. She told me, ‘I didn’t know the meaning of my life before this happened — but I do now.’ ”

Watching Gisèle take such sustenance from her supporters, you wonder how she will cope when the trial finally ends. She is writing a book and could, if she chose, become a global campaigner. “There is something particularly powerful,” says Linda Bendali, “about her being an older woman — she represents all our mothers. All generations identify with her.” But those close to Gisèle say that, at 72, she may just return to a quiet life of friends, grandchildren and her garden, in the secret location where she now lives.

But she is already an icon of courage for the women who come from across France and beyond just to watch the trial on a screen in an overspill room. Some want to witness history, a few enjoy the sensational evidence like tricoteuses at the guillotine, but many have risen at 5am, taking a day off work, to support a woman they deeply admire. Marion Spiteri and Amélie Planche, both 24 and law graduates, feel the case opened their eyes. “How can it be,” Spiteri says, “that so many men did this without her consent?” “It is terrifying,” Planche adds, “that a woman cannot even trust her own husband.” They tell me, astonishingly, that neither they nor their friends ever go to the toilet in a bar or club alone.

But then the nation of libertinisme lags behind in its attitude to violence against women. Until 2021, France did not even have an age of consent, effectively decriminalising even incestuous relations between children and adults, allowing several high-profile child abusers, including firemen who groomed a 13-year-old girl, to evade rape charges. Each time a prominent Frenchman is accused of rape — whether politician Dominique Strauss-Kahn or, currently, actor Gerard Dépardieu — famous French actresses leap to defend him. This is the nation that convicted child rapist Roman Polanski fled to from America, and is still fêted. The #MeToo movement was regarded by many as a wave of Anglosphere prudishness, contrary to the spirit of French seduction. So what can the Pelicot trial achieve?

I meet feminists from Les Amazones d’Avignon, the creators of graffiti across the city supporting Gisèle. (So as not to spoil the city walls, they write slogans on paper that can be removed.) Their latest reads “20 ans pour chacun” — 20 years for each one. I suggest a drink in a café nearby: “Not in there,” says one Amazone, “that’s where all the rapists go.” Blandine Deverlanges, 56, is part of the Coalition Féministe Loi Intégrale putting 130 proposals about sexual violence before the French parliament, including a ban on lawyers harassing victims in court. They are disgusted the defence asked Gisèle why she swam naked in her own swimming pool.

“This is a trial,” says Deverlanges, “of one extraordinary man, the monster Pelicot, and many ordinary men.” And as we talk I see a group of them emerge nervously from their favoured café and head back to the court. A collective noun for rapists? A violation, a banality, a shame.

(archive)

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