#and then like stays ridiculous the whole time but like gradually and subtly becomes more serious

[gobbluthbutagirl]

if i was smart i would use this time that i don’t have wifi to work on those scripts i started 3 years ago

[love-killed-the-superstar]

i finally finished cass week!! its been lots of late nights but so much fun. thank you everyone whos been reading these. tonight i have some real good cassunzel/unknighted dream content for yall, so enjoy if that’s your thing

CASSANDRA APPRECIATION WEEK DAY 7 - FINALE

How is one supposed to feel, showing up at their girlfriend's wedding to somebody else?

Cassandra has been through the whole spectrum of emotions in the run up to it all. There's been joy, of course, and in abundance – these are her best friends, taking that next important step in their lives. While she... takes her own next step. Alone.

She has poured over detailed illustrations Rapunzel sent her in letters of the various wedding patterns she's considered. It's amazing how much input Cass has had in the whole thing, considering it isn't even her wedding, especially when also factoring in the distance between them. She's helped pick out the flavour of punch while hunched over a campfire on a cold night; she's backed up Rapunzel's desire to forego shoes, even in the royal cathedral, in her underthings while her clothes hung up to dry after she got caught in a flash flood.

Half the time it doesn't feel like her place, and she withholds her opinion. Or she'll write back something along the lines of 'you should ask your future husband, not me'. But then Rapunzel counters that with 'well, you're like my future wife, so your opinion is equally important'. And... well, that just leads to other emotions that are even harder for her to deal with.

The flip side of the coin is the disappointment she feels, knowing that Rapunzel can only marry one person and Eugene is the clear winner, in both the royal family's favour and the court of public opinion. After all, who would come to a wedding where the princess marries the very person that nearly destroyed the kingdom? Cassandra can't fault Rapunzel for making the choice to marry Eugene; he was in Rapunzel's life first, he's begrudgingly grown on the people of Corona despite his shady past, and during the mess that she caused he stepped up and took responsibility. He loves her. He'll do anything for her.

She's happy for them, really. But the whole situation still feeds back into this complex she's worked so hard to overcome these last couple years. Marriage just a... a ceremony, a piece of paper, a legal contract. A wedding is a big, over-dramatic party that she would never in a million years want to take part in anyway. And hasn't she always told herself, since she was an angry little kid rolling her eyes at the Day of Hearts' puppet show, that romance, matrimony, all that bullshit, is something she's never wanted for herself?

It's petty, plain and simple, to have such a sting of jealousy at the idea of Rapunzel and Eugene marrying. They deserve their happy ending! More than anybody! Cass will just... have to figure out a way to be okay with that. Chasing destiny on the open road is her happy ending anyway, and that's no life for a... what would she even be? Princess consort? Duchess?

...Fine. She doesn't need a title or status to be happy. So much of her identity has been clinging to words other people might use to describe her and it can only end if she wishes it so.

All the same – it would be nice, just for a day, if she could be Rapunzel's bride.

…

Cass doesn't mean to show up late to the ceremony, although she's sure that Lance will slide up and make some comment at the reception anyway. Maybe she just didn't want to get up that morning. Maybe it's because she stayed up late last night, camping out at the lagoon, thinking about the vows they took all those years ago. After all, wasn't that modelled after a private wedding, between the two rulers who bound their kingdoms together? A marriage that is recognised in Corona's history books? By extension, aren't her and Rapunzel already married, in their own way?

That should be enough.

By the time Fidella and Owl rouse her, their casual annoyance morphing into urgency as the sun rises higher in the sky, she already knows she won't make it on time. She won't even have time to change, after Rapunzel spent weeks pestering her for her clothing measurements to have an appropriate outfit tailored. Thankfully, Raps knows her well enough not to commission a dress.

Cass rides like she's never ridden before, determined to get there before the vows. What will Rapunzel and Eugene think of her if they look out to the pews and see she isn't there, after all she's done to convince them she's fine with it all? She promised herself, the moment she held the pale lilac wedding invitation in her hands six months prior, that she wouldn't ruin their big day for them. Even if she shows up with windswept hair and yesterday's travelling clothes on, she has to be there, cheering them on.

With her and Fidella's combined determination they make the journey from the lagoon to the castle walls in record time. Standing at the gate, she purses her lips in annoyance as Stan and Pete, in a frustrating display of competence, ask for proof of ID and her invitation.

“Stan, Pete, this is ridiculous. You know me. You've known me since I was a kid.”

“Sorry, Cassandra,” Stan says sagely, as she begrudgingly hands over her Corona citizen identification card. “Rules are rules, and this is a big day for the princess.”

“Besides, we need to be on the lookout for shapeshifters,” Pete adds on, holding her invitation to the light to search for the subtly printed Corona emblem on the paper. “It's a recent thing we've been told to watch out for. A couple years ago there was an incident at the goodwill festival, see.”

“Pete, that was also me,” Cass says flatly.

“Never can be too careful,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Captain's orders and all. We good here, Stan?”

“Yup, everything looks legitimate. Welcome back to Corona, Cassandra!” Stan says, reverting back to his cheerful disposition.

“I am going to kill Eugene for this. Figuratively, of course.”

Stan motions for the gates to open, and as they do, a narrow stream of what looks to be wine rushes past Fidella's hooves. She moves aside slightly, snorting a little in confusion.

“Eww,” mutters Pete, exchanging a confused look with Stan before clearing his throat. “Well, you'd better hurry to the wedding if you don't want to miss the vows!”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Cass wrinkles her nose a little at the trail of wine leading across the bridge, eyes widening as it becomes apparent that there is much more where that came from. As the gates swing shut once again, Cass wonders to herself what the fuck they have just walked into.

The whole kingdom looks to be a mess. There are lanterns flying everywhere, and between them there are doves. Passing through the lower town, it looks like there's been some sort of roof collapse at the old tar works, and the stream of wine gradually becomes a shallow river. Fidella does her best to step around the mess, but it's nearly impossible; even the houses lining the street have been doused. At this rate, the reception will be an extremely sober affair.

Cass picks her way through the winding streets leading up to the palace, passing by a few torn up carts selling imitation merchandise of Rapunzel's wedding attire. She can't help but scoff at the broken shoe cart. As if Raps would wear shoes, even to her own wedding.

The crowd, all dressed in their Sunday bests, look shaken to their cores when she finally reaches the courtyard. The tables that were laid out for the reception are overturned, there is soup everywhere, and no one knows quite what to do with themselves.

She approaches a guard, looking flustered as he tries to set a nearby table upright, and asks, “Uh, what happened here?”

“Some – some horse burst through in a frenzy,” he explains, shaking like a leaf. “It, uh, from a distance it kinda looked like Maximus.”

Cassandra's brow furrows. “Is everything okay?”

“There are no reports of a disturbance in the throne room,” the guard continues. “But as you can see, the decorations have all been tarnished.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Look, I won't keep you, I just need access to the throne room. I have an invitation here, signed by the princess...”

After an excruciating second ID check (she was seriously going to maim Eugene for introducing this ridiculous 'shapeshifter' check) Cass is granted access to the venue, and figuring it's probably best not to draw attention to her tardiness, she slips in through one of the side entrances, with its door propped open to let in some cool air on such a hot day.

Cass hops down from Fidella's back, scratching the side of her head affectionately as Owl swoops down to take her place. He hoots at her curiously.

“Yeah, I don't know what the fuck just went down either,” Cass whispers. “I'm sure we'll find out later. For now, let's just not make a scene?”

Fate has other plans, however. She makes it barely two steps past the doorway before almost being bowled over by a runaway eight-tier wedding cake.

“Woah!” she gasps, stepping out of the way just in time to avoid getting a face full of cake. She reaches around, gripping the sides of the trolley to try and keep it from rolling all the way outside. Fidella steps in to help, blocking the exit with her body, and Cass heaves a sigh of relief as the trolley grinds to a halt, the cake wobbling precariously for several painful seconds before stabilising. Owl hoots in victory and Cass exhales loudly.

“Oh thank god. That could have been a disaster.”

“...Hey, where's the cake?” a voice, unmistakably Eugene's, calls from beyond the edge of the corridor. Cass cringes. So much for quietly watching from the sidelines.

Steeling herself, she slips around the back of the trolley and with some effort, pushes it around the corner and into the throne room. There's an audible ripple of uncertainty through the pews, as the confused guests mutter to one another about why some windswept vagrant is wheeling out a cake that was already in position at the beginning of the ceremony. There's a hoot of laughter (definitely Lance) at Cassandra's dishevelled appearance, a sharp “is that Cassandra?” from three rows away (her dad's voice, for sure), and a few giggles she's guessing are coming from Kiera and Catalina's direction. She can't even bear to look at the king and queen.

Instead, she sees two figures in white. Eugene, looking proud as can be in his very expensive wedding garb that he bragged about to her in several letters... and Rapunzel, face framed by the soft lace veil behind her, looking so beautiful Cass could cry. Her surprise melts into pure glee, and if it weren't for the colossal cake in between, Cass knows Raps would be launching herself at her right then and there, present company be damned.

She passes Max and Pascal and almost chokes. That would explain the sorry state of the tar works' roof, at least. From somewhere behind, she hears Fidella stifle a snort of laughter.

“Well well well,” Eugene says, with a click of the tongue and a lopsided grin. “If it isn't our favourite little gatecrasher.”

It's his teasing, strangely enough, that helps her to find her voice in front of all these people. “Well geez, somebody had to stop this cake from rolling down the hill.”

…

The wedding reception ends up being less of a party and more of a clean-up operation after Max and Pascal's prior mischief, but when the venue has been tidied up and the main courses have been served, Cass slips away right as the king stands up to give a tearful toast. If she times it right she can change into the outfit Rapunzel has had tailored for her and return before the speech is concluded, no problem.

At this point, her room is basically an empty shell with a bed and a wardrobe, so it takes no time to lay out her new outfit ready. Glancing around the empty husk of a room while she starts to undress, Cass wonders when exactly Corona stopped feeling like her home. Maybe about the time she realised it was the people, not the place, that she gravitated back to time and time again?

The new suit doesn't look all too different to Eugene's, minus his father's sash. It's white, with similar detailing, and even some of the same gold accents on the collar. Cass blanches a little the longer she stares at it. God, she's going to look like she's trying to steal his thunder. On his fucking wedding day.

“Why did I let you do this, Raps?” she groans. She can't deny once wearing it, however, that it makes her look really good.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror on her closet door, trying for a smile. This whole situation feels bizarre, and she still can't stop thinking about how stunning Rapunzel looks in her wedding dress.

I wish she was marrying me instead.

The admission, even inside her head, is enough to make her growl in frustration, slap her forehead.

“Enough,” she grits out. “You are going to go out there and be supportive and happy for them because this is their day and you love them so much. Enough throwing yourself a pity party, Cass.”

With nothing else to say to herself, she ties back her hair, shaggier from her foregoing a haircut in quite some time, neatly plaiting it and securing it with a short piece of string from her satchel. Pulling a pair of white gloves on to tie the whole outfit together, she glares at her reflection for a few seconds to compose herself before heading back towards the venue.

“Looking dapper, Cass,” Lance mutters in greeting as she slides up beside him, trying to pretend that she hadn't slipped out in the middle of the king's big speech. He glances over at Eugene, sat beside Rapunzel at the front table reserved for the royals, and then back to her again. “Tell me, which one of you is the groom again?”

“Don't you dare draw anyone's attention to this, Lance. Raps has no idea how petty this makes me look to onlookers.”

He bursts out laughing, which quickly dissolves into a fake cough to deter the few people who turn to stare at him disapprovingly. “Haha, hmm. Uh, you know that was definitely intentional on her part, right? She wants you to feel included.”

“Included? I just feel like I'm third-wheeling a wedding.”

“Isn't that exactly what's happening?”

She groans quietly, before bursting into polite applause as the king embraces Rapunzel tightly and then raises his glass, before taking his seat. Edmund rises, and she can already see Eugene looking nervous at the weird shit he's about to start spouting to the unsuspecting audience.

“I came back here to support them, not to upstage Eugene at the after party.” She chews her lip. “Maybe I should change. D'you think I should change?”

“Look, Cass, Eugene knew about the matching suits ahead of time. If he had a problem with it he would have said something, believe me.” Lance grins and shakes his head. “I was just messing with you before about the third wheel stuff. You're their equal, don't you get that? This might as well be your day too.”

Cass pinches the bridge of her nose. “Don't say this stuff to me, Lance, or I'll seriously start feeling depressed. I need a drink. Is there any booze left, or is it all out on the street?”

“Unless they're planning on breaking out the communion wine, I think we're out of luck.”

“Damn it. Maybe I should just hide in the bathroom for the next six hours.”

As the toasts conclude, Rapunzel and Eugene are called to the dance floor for the first wedding dance. The orchestra rise as Arianna removes the train from Rapunzel's hair, and she and Eugene make their way to the centre of the venue with their hands clasped. Rapunzel's eyes search in the crowd as she walks, finally locking in on Cass as the conductor motions for the band to play.

“I love you,” Rapunzel mouths, and Cass weakly nods before losing Rapunzel's attention to the sweep of the music and the arms of her new husband.

…

“Cass!”

Rapunzel finds her on the steps, having put some distance between her and the rest of the party about an hour ago. After a couple hours of shit-talking bad dancers with Lance from the sidelines, catching up briefly with her father, and downing about a third of the punch bowl in an attempt to avoid conversations with people, Cassandra is all partied out.

Rapunzel's hair is mussed from hours of relentless dancing as she patters down the steps and flops down beside her, uncaring if the dust from foot traffic leaves a mark on the fabric.

“Hey, newlywed. You having a good time?”

“Of course! Oh, Cass, aren't the orchestra just wonderful? They play the classics, for my parents, but the upbeat stuff was a great surprise! When I'm queen, we'll dance like this at every function, mark my words!” The gleam in her eyes only brightens as she adds, “Besides... I keep stopping mid-step and thinking, I'm married now. I get to spend the rest of my life with Eugene. Isn't that just – just wonderful?”

“It is.” Cass offers her the warmest smile she can muster. “I'm so happy for you, Raps, really. You and Fitzherbert are going to have a great life.”

“All three of us are.” Rapunzel scoots closer and rests her head against Cassandra's shoulder. If only time could stop right now, Cass wishes silently, she wouldn't ask for anything ever again. “Cass, you are both my future. It's been so hard to find time to be with you today, and it's driving me crazy! You deserved to be up there with us today, you know?”

“But Corona law doesn't allow it,” Cass says softly, as if saying the words delicately will shelter her heart from fully feeling the weight of them. Rapunzel swallows and nods.

“Mhm. Yeah, it... it doesn't.”

She reaches for Cassandra's hands and squeezes them in her own. Cass can feel Rapunzel's wedding band dig slightly into her index finger, and tears spring to her eyes.

“Well,” she forces herself to say, “it's okay. If you had to marry either one of us, it should be Eugene. He's the more stable presence in your life, after all. He can help you keep this place afloat, while I – while I'm off travelling.”

“Let's not talk about this,” Rapunzel whispers, a pleading tone creeping in. “This... this should be a happy day for us, Cass! The start of something new!”

“You're right. Raps, this is a happy day. And – and I mean it, Rapunzel, I am so happy for you both. My best friends get to be happy together forever. Why wouldn't I be?”

She stands up quickly and holds her hand out, pulling Rapunzel to her feet. Rapunzel stares at her for a heartbeat, face clouded with some emotion too tumultuous to unpack in this moment, before reaching over and wiping a tear away as it spills over from Cass's eyes.

“I know you are.” Her face softens into a smile. “Hey, dance with me? Please?”

“I don't know, Raps...”

“Just one dance?” she asks, biting her lip. “I'm about ready to turn in, but... it wouldn't feel right if I didn't share at least one dance with the woman I love the most.”

“That's sweet of you. How will the man you love the most feel if I take the last dance?” Cass asks, quirking an eyebrow as Rapunzel begins tugging her up the steps by her wrist. “And your father, for that matter?”

“Oh, Eugene won't mind, silly,” Rapunzel laughs airily, marching them both towards the centre of the dance floor as other party-goers begin to stare. “And my father isn't dancing with you, I am.”

There are some whispers as they begin to dance slowly, stepping in time to a waltz; it's more of an open secret than anything, the way Rapunzel and Cassandra are with each other, but it still feels pretty brazen all the same. Cass is a bit rusty on her feet, having gone years since she last danced ballroom-style, but as she stares lovingly at Rapunzel's face, counting the smattering of freckles on her nose and seeing her own flustered face in Rapunzel's eyes, she realises it doesn't really matter. The steps are bullshit; everything is, except the hand clasped in hers and the other curled around the back of her neck.

Out of the corner of her eye Cass spies Lance, grin a mile wide, offering his hand out to Eugene. They start their own dance, a little clumsier, a little more comical than their own. Rapunzel giggles as they waltz past, Lance almost knocking into them as they spin.

“See? Eugene and Lance can make their own fun.”

Cass smiles back, exhaling slowly. There are still a few people watching with rapt interest: Queen Arianna, looking misty-eyed; Cassandra's father, fidgeting a little, his anxieties no doubt feeding off of the nervousness in Cass's own body language; a little girl she doesn't even know, clad in a waistcoat and pants, looking like she's seeing someone who mirrors herself for the first time. But as interest in their dance begins to wane, so do her fears.

“Dancing still isn't really my thing,” she confesses, as they begin to slow down. “It feels... awkward.”

“Oh.” Rapunzel pouts. “But, you know, gotta try everything once?”

“Of course. I can stand it if I'm with you.” She leans in to press a kiss to Rapunzel's forehead, but thinks better of it, leaning back again. “I, uh... yeah, it might be time for me to turn in, Raps.”

Rapunzel's smile fades a little in disappointment, but she nods. “Yeah. It's about time for us to leave too, so...”

“You're leaving tonight?”

“Yeah. No time like the present, right?” Rapunzel winds her arm around Cassandra's, clinging on as she calls over the din of the music. “Eugene! Are you ready?”

“Sunshine, I'll be right with you,” he calls back, in the midst of being dipped by Lance. Once he's back on his feet and says his goodbyes in a bone-crushing hug, he joins the two of them as they make their way to the edge of the dance floor.

“Is... is it okay for us to just leave like this?” Cass asks suspiciously. “You two don't need to make some kind of big announcement, or anything?”

“...Nah,” Eugene says after a long pause, exchanging a look with Rapunzel. “We can let the king and queen deal with that, right? Besides, the ship won't wait forever.”

Before Cass can protest further, Eugene slides up to the other side of her and links his arm in hers, and the two effectively march her down the steps and towards the docks.

“This is lovely and all, but I can't help the feeling that you two are kidnapping me,” she points out, as the three of them march on in silence.

“What! No! We – we just think you should see the boat! It's really gorgeous, and there's apparently an ice sculpture on board,” Rapunzel gabbles, starting to wax poetic in her ear as Eugene stands on the other side of her, equally enthusiastic.

“And get this – they didn't screw up my nose this time!! That's a huge deal, you absolutely cannot miss it-”

This weird pimping of the boat continues as they follow the path down to the harbour, greeting a few puzzled guards on the way as they tag along for protection. Cass can't shake the feeling that something extremely weird is going on. Eugene and Rapunzel have been shooting her odd looks all day, and she thought it was because her complicated feelings were obvious to everyone around her, but as they get closer and the ship comes into view, it definitely feels like there's a bigger story than that.

The boat is beautiful – the wood is dyed a deep cherry red, and the sails are the same rich purple as the Coronan flag, complete with the golden sun crest. On board, true to their words, is an ice sculpture, but as she strains her eyes, the sculpture depicting the happy couple looks suspiciously like a happy throuple, instead.

“Raps... Eugene... what exactly is going on here?”

“Oh, you'll see,” Eugene says under his breath, while Rapunzel giggles gleefully and gives no further answer.

Trunks of their belongings are already being loaded onto the ship when they arrive, and Cass notices a familiar satchel and carry on pack nestled beside one of Rapunzel's cases.

“Are – are those my things? Guys, what is going on?”

Finally, the two of them release her arms and she takes a step back, eyes darting all over as she tries to comprehend what the fuck is happening right now.

“Cassandra,” Rapunzel begins, clasping her hands together joyfully, “we're boarding the ship for our honeymoon, and... we were hoping you would like to come with us.”

She stares. “...But why?”

“Why?” Eugene scoffs. “Why indeed, Cass, let me think. You're our best friend, you're in a relationship with my wife – something as intimate as a honeymoon doesn't just happen with two out of three when it comes to us, you understand?”

“But – but this wedding isn't for us, it's for you,” splutters Cass, still wondering if she knocked her head at some point and woke up in a parallel universe, where things like a honeymoon for three were commonplace. He rolls his eyes, hard.

“Cass, look at us. We're wearing the same freaking suit. You do the math.”

“And we had our own wedding dance,” Rapunzel chimes in. “Even if you didn't really like it.”

“All right, just... stop, okay? Give me a minute to think.” Cass is starting to feel dizzy. “I – I know you both love me – in different ways,” she adds sharply, as Eugene opens his mouth. “But this is... pretty crazy. Even for us. I mean, people will talk about this, guys.”

Rapunzel and Eugene exchange amused glances. “Cass, everyone who knows us knows, and everyone who doesn't have a pretty good guess about what goes on between us three,” Rapunzel says slowly. “You don't have to worry about that anymore, do you understand?”

“It's different now!” Cassandra protests, shaking her head in pure, unfiltered amazement. “You two are married now and it's – adulterous. Probably. Maybe even treasonous? God, my head hurts.”

“So it's not a cut and dry situation, that's fine!” Eugene throws up his hands in exasperation. “But damn it, Cass, you're acting like this is the end of days. If you stuck around more than a few days at a time, you'd realise that the people of Corona really don't care as much as you think they do.”

Cass opens and closes her mouth a few times, unsure of where to even start with protesting everything they've been saying to her. She loses the train of thought anyway once she lays eyes on Rapunzel, with a desperate look in her eyes as she watches Cass, fidgeting with her hands.

“Cass,” she says quietly, taking a tentative step forward, “we can't force you to come with us, but we would really like you to. So we can right this – this rigid law that stops us all from being happy.”

“...Okay, now you've definitely lost me.”

Rapunzel makes a frustrated noise in her throat, running her fingers back through her hair and resting both hands on the back of her neck, like she so often does when she's trying to think.

“Cassandra – once we are outside of Coronan waters, the laws don't apply anymore.”

“...And?”

Eugene half-laughs, half-coughs, and Rapunzel shoots him a pointed look before continuing more gently, “And, when we're out at sea, certain... marriage laws... don't apply either.”

She bites her lip, hoping this will be enough to get the gears turning in Cassandra's head, but she stares on blankly.

“Oh, for christ's sake!” Eugene slaps his forehead and pulls Cass along to stand beside Rapunzel, staring them both down with folded arms. “Cass, I don't know how many times we have to spell it out for you, but this has always been your wedding day too. If you want it to be, anyway.”

The words finally seem to hit home, and she stares between them with eyes as wide as a deer being stalked.

“What?” she squeaks.

“Cassandra, I have wanted to marry the both of you for as long as this has even been a conversation,” Rapunzel explains, and her voice shakes a little with her next words. “Of course this is crazy, everything we do together is crazy! And, Cass? If you don't want to get on the boat and do this... I'll accept that. But – but I hope, after all that we've been through together, that you want to be my wife as much as I want to be yours.”

Time moves slowly as the weight of these words sink in, and Cass glances between Eugene, who is beginning to look emotional just in the presence of this proposal, and Rapunzel, laying her heart on the line just to show Cass how much she matters.

“You'd really do that? For me?”

“With you,” Rapunzel corrects, mouth splitting into a grin as her eyes gloss over with tears. “Cass, I would sail to the ends of the Earth if it meant I could marry you when we get there.”

“Oh god,” Eugene says in a hushed voice. He turns away, hand over his eyes. “You're both killing me here.”

“Can it, Fitzherbert,” Cass says on instinct, before a laugh bubbles up from her throat. “Raps, I – what do I even say to that?!”

“Say yes already, oh my god!”

“Eugene!” Rapunzel shakes her head, giggling helplessly. “Sorry, proposals get to him.”

Cass gives a watery laugh. “I'll bet. What's he going to do when we actually get married, huh?”

Rapunzel blinks a few times, then gasps in delight. “So it's a yes?!”

All Cass can do is nod before Rapunzel throws herself at her, hugging her tight enough to choke. Even with all the oxygen being squeezed from her lungs, Cass feels like she can breathe for the first time all day.

There's the sound of a throat being cleared behind them, and they turn to see a guard looking a little awkward to interrupt.

“Excuse me. Um... the smaller bags, should we load them on the ship, or...?”

“Yes, you should,” Cass says, barely able to contain her cheer. “Wherever these two go, I'm going with them.”

The guard shrugs, quickly turning back to the remaining luggage, and Cass cups Rapunzel's jaw, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before hiding her face in the top of Rapunzel's hair.

“Aww, don't be shy! I loved that!” Rapunzel giggles, pulling her in closer. “I loved that so much. Wherever we go, you're coming too. Yep... that's going in my journal for sure.”

“No,” groans Cass, still giggling despite herself. “Please, no record of anything sappy I say ever again.”

“Too late. See, you should know by now, Cass. Everything mushy we ever say will be immortalised in our wife's notebooks for the rest of our lives,” Eugene sighs, slinging an arm around her. Cass nods, keeping close as they steer her towards the boarding plank.

Our wife. It feels too fucking good to be real.

“This isn't a dream, right?” she asks suddenly, as they're halfway up the plank. “This is really happening?”

“Of course it's real, art can't imitate life!” scoffs Eugene, looking a little offended. “This face can't simply be replicated in dreams, Cassandra.”

“No one is saying anything about your face, Eugene,” Rapunzel sighs, shaking her head fondly.

“You know what, Fitzherbert? You've got a point. If this were a dream your nose would be a totally different shape, for a start.”

“I don't get it! How hard can it be to draw somebody's nose in accurate proportion to their face?!”

As they take their first steps onto the boat and the plank is removed, they turn to see a few familiar faces have gathered. The parents have come to wave their children off, in a quiet moment of finality before the next chapter begins. Arianna waves to them, her aura simply overflowing with joy, Frederic watches on with a stiffer wave, clearly still coming to grips with what's about to happen once the boat leaves Corona. Edmund, stood off to the side, is loudly asking Hamuel why their good friend is tagging along for the journey.

A little further back, Cassandra's father watches on. Upon first glance, she freezes; Rapunzel's arm is still holding her in close, and she nods towards him, trying for a smile. He nods back, slowly at first, before raising his arms to wave.

He is called over by Arianna and sheepishly joins her, his eyes never fully leaving Cass as he does so. Overwhelmed, she glances down at Rapunzel, who is leaning with her head against her shoulder, still beaming and waving at her parents.

“My father knew about this, then?” she asks quietly. Rapunzel shrugs, a shy smile on her face.

“I know we don't need it, but I wanted his blessing. I wanted him to know that you're loved, and you're gonna live a long life and be okay.”

The regal trill of trumpets fill the air, as the small cluster of guards on the dock stand to attention. A few words are read from a prepared scroll, carried away by the ocean breeze before Cass can hear, and then suddenly they're moving. The faces of their parents are growing smaller, the stretch of ocean growing larger, and Cass exhales shakily before turning to Rapunzel and Eugene.

“I think I'm going to puke,” she confesses.

“What?!” squeaks Rapunzel, alarmed.

“Well, now would be a terrible time to tell us you get seasick,” Eugene jokes, clapping her on the back. “Seriously though. You okay?”

“I'm fine. I just... realised how much of what was said happened in front of all those strangers. And then our parents. God, I'm gonna jump.”

“Yeah, no jumping,” Eugene says firmly, tugging her away from the boat's edge by her shoulders. “How long until we're out of Coronan waters.”

“Less than an hour.” The tremors are back in Rapunzel's voice again.

“And there are... aha! Three hours until the clock strikes midnight. You're in luck, ladies. If we play our cards right, this day will go down in history as both our anniversaries. How's that sound, huh?”

“Sounds like everything I've dreamed of,” Rapunzel sighs, melting against Cass. “Doesn't it feel good just to be here and not having to hide it?”

“I mean, we're embarking with a very small crew for a private ceremony outside of Coronan waters,” Cass points out. “Feels pretty hidden to me.”

Rapunzel pouts. “Ah, you're right.”

“You know... I think it's better this way. I wouldn't want it to be some public affair anyway,” Cass says quickly. “But yeah, this still feels like I'm in some sort of fever dream.”

“Want me to pinch you to be sure?”

“If you pinch me I will kill you. And hey, what was all this about a shapeshifter check at the gates, huh, Fitzherbert? I missed your wedding vows just so you could mess with me?!”

“Oh, that. I thought it would be funny!”

The ship sails off, disappearing into the evening sky, and even as she's bickering with Eugene and being held back by an exasperated Rapunzel, Cass can't help believing that this might be the start of her own happily ever after, after all.

[spill-the-milk-tea]

My Thoughts On “A Whisker Away”

Warnings: spoilers, mentions of suicide/self-harm

A Whisker Away could have done better in a lot of areas, but it’s by no means bad, and the plot and overall concept make up for most of its shortcomings. Clearly Netflix is working hard to emulate the Ghibli formula, and while their attempts have all been misses so far, they have been gradually getting closer—and this is a big step away from the disaster that was Ni No Kuni. Better script writers and more time spent on animation is my only suggestion—scripts have always been a struggle for Netflix, which goes hand in hand with my second suggestion, because they’re focused on churning out new content.

Still, I think this would be a great film to show to children and young adults struggling with suicidal thoughts. Having this omen of destruction in the form of a cat, representing Miyo’s constant self-doubt, was actually very poignant. The first time we see Miyo’s mask fall and we see her real, bitter feelings is when she sees the first cat in the movie, which perfectly reflects her self-hatred. The way the Mask Seller speaks is clearly meant to represent Miyo’s inner dialogue, as she is hesitant to protest to them at first, but when they suggest going full-cat, she adamantly tells the voice to shut up.

While a lot of the other messages were sort of thrown in our face, I appreciate that some of the best symbolic ones were kept subtle rather than exposition-dumped on us. For example, Hinode only turning into a cat via his hands keys us into the fact that the cat transformation is dependent on self-hatred. Hinode feels like he’ll never be good enough to become a potter, thus he loses his hands. I actually like that they chose to go this route, as ridiculous as it was, because it subtly suggested to the audience that “becoming a cat” (aka suicide) isn’t a choice anyone can make just based on difficult circumstances.

I feel like the creep-factor on the Mask Seller could have been played up more, but I guess presenting him as this eccentric character that almost seemed to have the main character’s best interest at heart works better for the metaphor. He seemed mostly unassuming and non-threatening, and weird as he was, he made a convincing case. His concept as a villain is actually very cool. This idea that he steals the lives of those who don’t want them anymore, combined with his drug-dealer archetype is very unique. He preys on people who already hate themselves, luring them into thinking their lives aren’t worth living anymore, giving them a taste of freedom through his cat mask (aka self-harm). Once they’re hooked, he convinces them to make the full leap, whether they truly want it or not. The sort of momentary, but ultimately unsatisfying relief of self-harm to a suicidal person is captured very eloquently in the cat transformation metaphor. It’s actually quite dark how Miyo is so adamant about not transforming at first, but in a matter of days, after one particularly traumatic incident, she’s fully committed.

The connection between the feline and depression metaphor got a little messy near the end, but still nonetheless made an emotional impact. The cat believed that by taking someone else’s face, they could show their owner the love they deserved. Kinako showed a clear disdain for Miyo for not showing Kaoru the love she deserved, and sort of acted as this physical representation of Miyo feeling like she didn’t truly belong in the family. Of course, the owner loves them as a cat, not as someone else. The whole cat stealing human lives thing doesn’t play much into a bigger picture past just representing how as much as it may seem like it, becoming someone else or trying to take someone else’s spot won’t make us truly happy. And I think Kinako realizing it’s better to live out her own short life making Kaoru happy was a short but very sweet subplot.

The scene that really touched me most, surprisingly, was just seeing how Yori so persistently apologized to Miyo as she ran away from her. It so perfectly encapsulated the guilt that friends and family of suicidal ones feel when they see this person they care about clearly suffering. Yori clearly had Miyo’s best interests at heart and genuinely stayed by Miyo’s side through all of her troubles, and is a great example of how to be a supportive friend to a depressed person. She never coddled or pitied Miyo, but she was clearly worried when Miyo started acting “off”, and even then tried to stick by Miyo’s side and be supportive.

Muge is definitely eccentric and painfully cringy, but that in itself makes her a realistic teenage girl character (and a neurotypical adult male doesn’t get to paint her valid character flaws as failings on her or the writers’ part damn it.) Her feelings and thoughts start off as seeming very weird and childish, but gradually you come to understand her reasoning the more the movie goes on. Having been abandoned at such a young age, she pushes people away deep down in her heart, thinking that no one can ever truly love her. She was deeply damaged and never felt like she could really trust anyone again, viewing everyone as either selfish or irrelevant (represented by scarecrows.) This at first seems to just symbolize how other people seemingly don’t matter when she sees the guy she likes, but when she transforms her own parents into scarecrows, we see it represents her pushing people away from her. She tries to act like she doesn’t need other people to love her, when deep down, she really wants proof that someone can truly love her despite her eccentricities, as seen in her obsession to make Hinode confess to her.

One of the points in this metaphor I felt was lacking was that they didn’t really address how Miyo’s psychological reliance on Hinode as this perfect guy that would solve all her problems because of his apparent loyalty was sort of toxic? They definitely established it as over idealized and somewhat exaggerated with that whole Cinderella-transformation scene, where you can clearly see that she believes Hinode loving her will solve all of her problems. In the end I suppose it’s countered with her finally being accepted by Hinode and her accepting him in return, and her realizing that’s all she really wanted.

I did appreciate the background noise of Hinode telling the Mask Seller that it wasn’t Miyo’s fault her life was difficult, because it really puts things into perspective. The Mask Seller took advantage of Miyo’s trauma, just as it isn’t the fault of a suicidal person when their negative thoughts overtake them. That’s why we first see the mask seller when Miyo is at one of her lowest points—when she’s with her mother, attempting but failing to overcome her feelings of abandonment as she first begins to shut her out; and having just moved in with her stepmother, clearly overwhelmed with emotional burdens. I also thought it was interesting that they explained her not transforming back as deep down not wanting to be a human again. She still didn’t believe herself as being capable of being loved, and it took her realizing that she needs to love the people in her life first before she can truly start to heal. And it’s true, there’s a difference between not wanting to die and actually overcoming your depression.

In any case, Miyo’s thought process was almost painfully accurate. The way she lashed out at her parents for wanting her to stop smiling if she didn’t feel like it was something I definitely went through. It’s hard to explain, and definitely irrational, but in the most cold and logical sense, being told to give up your coping mechanism by the people who you feel are causing you to use said coping mechanism feels really offensive in the moment. She was using up so much emotional energy acting like she was okay for her parents, so she felt like it wasn’t their right to ask if she was okay. 

It was a really brief, but sad moment when we saw the difference between how she perceived her favorite meal at her house as opposed to when Hinode gave it to her. It wasn’t meant to show that her feelings of depression were circumstantial so much as it highlighted her abnormal mood swings, as well as how the root of her depression, so to speak, stemmed from her home life. And while I don’t agree entirely with how their relationship played out, I cannot agree more that seeing a person you care about suffering from self-hatred snaps you out of your own dark thoughts so quick. Miyo was quick to see Hinode’s good traits and to rationalize that he didn’t need to hate himself, but she couldn’t do it with herself. It took the thought of Hinode also possibly losing his life for her to snap out of her suicidal state of mind. Most suicidal people rationalize that the people around them would be fine if they died, or even preferred it, so Hinode showing through both actions and words that he didn’t want her to “turn into a cat forever” helped her start to value her own life. 

It was a stark contrast between me as the viewer, feeling like Miyo’s transformation was technically Hinode’s fault, and Miyo, who felt like she needed to transform for Hinode’s sake because she loved him so much. Wanting to die because of the boy she loved may seem like a stretch in the terms of the metaphor, but that’s the point. The things the Mask Seller says are inherently illogical, but he says them when the person is at their weakest emotionally, which makes it easier to convince them. In the end, both Miyo and Hinode were able to free themselves of their masks (aka their irrational self-hatred) when Miyo realized that Hinode genuinely wanted to get to know her, and Hinode stopped feeling like he needed to hold back so Miyo wouldn’t see he was a “nobody”. Essentially, being honest and vulnerable with one another.

Overall, I think having this “Mask Stealer” as this antagonist representing suicidal thoughts gives new meaning to the idea of one “taking away their own life” and is actually really eye opening to those who may be facing similar situations as Miyo. The message is cheesy, but the creative way in which they tackled adolescent depression and suicide is worth watching.

[omgjasminesimone]

Love The One You’re With

Colt x MC x Teppei

Some NSFW

Author’s Note: Not gonna lie, I’m kind of nervous about this one. This might not be everyone’s cup of tea. It’s ultimately Colt x MC, but there’s also some Teppei x MC. And in real life I’d be against a relationship with that big of an age gap/power dynamic (looking at you Sam Taylor-Johnson), but this is pixel fanfiction and I’m not romanticizing it or anything so I’m going to go with it. 

Word Count: 6,250

When Ellie Wheeler first met Teppei Kaneko, she was desperate.

Her father, renown Detective Christian Wheeler, had died in the line of duty. It had been a domestic abuse incident. He had rushed in without backup. The wife and young daughter were saved, at the expense of his own life.

He was a hero, but the LAPD didn’t see it that way. They said he was reckless, he should have followed orders and waited for back up. They refused to pay out his life insurance policy, and Ellie was left orphaned and destitute.

She should have started her senior year at Langston that Fall, but she couldn’t afford it on her own. She was forced to withdraw.

She couldn’t make the monthly mortgage payments on the house. She was going to lose the house. She was going to lose everything.

Ellie was desperate. Desperate enough to call Logan, who she hadn’t spoken to in years. It took her several weeks to find his new number through his good friend Vaughn.  Her old flame was involved in some shady underground dealings back in the day, and Ellie assumed he would still be running in the same circles now.

When she found out about Logan’s criminal background when they were hooking up her senior year of high school, she had cut ties with him. At the time, she had a great deal of respect for law and order. But after how the LAPD handled her father’s death, that lawful admiration had waned considerably. Now, Ellie would do what she had to do in order to survive.

Logan had been reluctant at first, telling her she didn’t know what she was getting herself into, that she wasn’t meant for the criminal lifestyle. But she begged and pleaded. Eventually, Logan agreed to put her in touch with his boss.

She met Teppei Kaneko at a drag show. He’d taken one look at her, and then looked at Logan like he was crazy.

“I promise you she can drive. I taught her everything she knows personally.” Logan vouches for her.

Ellie sticks her hand out to Logan’s boss for a handshake. “Ellie Wheeler. Nice to meet you.” She greets.

Teppei doesn’t take the offered hand, continuing to look at her skeptically. “This isn’t some undercover sting operation, is it? I’m familiar with your late father.”

Ellie’s fist clenches as she allows her hand to fall to her side. “Then you should also be familiar with my hatred of the LAPD. I’m no snitch. I just need a well-paying job that doesn’t require a college degree.”

There’s several moments of silence as Teppei seemingly mulls it over. “If anything, you’ll be unassuming. That could be an asset.” Teppei finally offers his hand. “Welcome to the Mercy Park Crew Ellie.”

…

..

After a big score, the crew celebrates with a party. There’s beer, and music, and what looks like the entirety of LA’s criminal underbelly gathered in the Kaneko Autobody Shop.

Ellie maneuvers past drunk Mona playing pool with a tall beautiful roller derby type, past Ximena and Toby trying to outdo each other with the most ridiculous dance move, and past Logan making out with some girl that Ellie has seen at the drag show a couple of times when the crew is there on business.

She raises the two glasses of beer over her head as she tries to make her way through the makeshift dance floor to where Kaneko leans against the door frame of his office, looking aloft.

“Thirsty?” Ellie asks, offering him one of the beers.

Teppei smiles softly and takes the offered cup, thanking her with a nod.

“Why do you throw these victory parties when you clearly hate them?” Ellie questions, leaning against the wall beside him and joining him in wall flowering.

“I don’t hate them, I’m indifferent.” Teppei insists.

“Fine, why bother if you’re indifferent?” Ellie rephrases.

“It’s about appearances. Letting other crews know how well things are going, how happy my crew seems to be under me. Networking. It’s ultimately business.” Teppei answers.

“I can respect a hardworking business man. It’s a turn on.” Ellie’s usually not this forward, but she’s a little bit drunk. And there’s so much adrenaline from the successful job she needs to get out, preferably through a sexual outlet. She glances over at Kaneko, definitely an attractive older man.

“Are you flirting with me? I’m old enough to be your father.” Kaneko chides.

Ellie downs the rest of her beer before looping her arms around Kaneko’s neck. “I no longer have a father.” She responds before capturing his lips.

When the party has died down hours later, Ellie lies in Kaneko’s bed wondering what she’s done.

He snores softly, back to her. There was no snuggling or kissing afterwards. It was clearly just sex, for both of them. A way to relieve the tension between them had been building up in the months since Ellie rented out her father’s house to cover the mortgage and moved into a spare bedroom in the garage.

Ellie isn’t the kind of girl who just sleeps around, or she wasn’t. She’s only been with one man besides Kaneko, her college boyfriend who she was with for three years. When her father died, he couldn’t handle her grief and had broken up with her. Ellie squeezes her eyes shut to keep herself from crying. Who is she now? She can barely recognize herself.

She slips out of Kaneko’s bed to return to her own. She lies awake wondering what the crew is going to think of the new development between her and their boss, if it even means anything. Maybe no one noticed them slipping away. Maybe no one will even care.

…

The crew finds out there’s something going on between Ellie and Kaneko gradually. A lingering look there, Ellie not being in her room when someone goes to look for her late at night, a hand that rests on the small of her back for just a moment too long to be friendly.

They never announce it exactly, but at some point, it just becomes clear that everyone knows. Logan is the only one who ever directly says anything about it to her. Months after she and Kaneko start hooking up, Logan pulls Ellie aside on a lazy day in the garage, asks her if she’s okay, if she’s happy. Ellie assures him she’s fine, but she doesn’t say anything about whether or not she’s happy.

She and Teppei fall into a routine. She sleeps in his room most nights, he’ll kiss her in front of the crew, and his associates. Gradually, everyone just comes to accept that they’re together, that she’s his. Once, at a drag show, Salazar threatens her, but his goonies quickly try to silence him, with a whispered warning of “She’s Kaneko’s man, he’ll have you murdered.” He apologizes and slinks away.

Ellie feels that things are going fine, although she still feels lonely, adrift. She doesn’t think Kaneko loves her, she thinks he’s just lonely too. But maybe that’s enough? Two lonely people rolling around in bed together, so they don’t feel so alone for a few fleeting moments. But everything changes, when Ellie meets Colt and realizes maybe she can feel more than not lonely, maybe she can feel whole.

…

Before Ellie knows it, it’s been almost a year with the crew. She sees photos of her classmates graduating on pictagram, she stalks their LinkedIn pages to see what incredible jobs they’re getting. It feels very unfair.

Teppei doesn’t say anything about his son returning after finishing up his bachelor’s degree after five years at UC Davis. But then again, Teppei and Ellie don’t really talk much in general. It’s not the type of subject that would have come up as they lie in bed together afterwards, making awkward small talk since they don’t really know how to talk to each other. So, when she and Ximena return one day from a job, and she sees Teppei and a younger version of Teppei standing in the garage, she’s surprised.

Teppei waves Ellie over, and Ximena makes her way to her room after tossing a cheery wave to Kaneko’s offspring. “You’re back. How did it go? Did the cobras give you guys any trouble?” Kaneko asks, business coming first.

“It was fine. They didn’t want to pay the agreed price at first, but after Ximena took a crowbar to the car’s hood, they reconsidered and came around. Who’s this?” Ellie replies.

“This is my son Colt. Colt, this is my girlfriend.” Teppei introduces. Ellie’s heart fills a little at being referred to as his girlfriend, he’s never called her that before.

Ellie extends her hand to Kaneko’s scowling son. “Hey, I’m Ellie.”

Colt doesn’t take her extended hand. “Jesus Christ Dad, how old is she?!” He complains, glaring at his subtly smirking father.

Ellie’s eyes narrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “She isn’t deaf or mute.” She spits out.

 Colt’s eyes narrow as well. “Too bad, I think I would have liked you more if you didn’t talk.” He retorts.

The two early 20-somethings glare at each other.

‘What’s this gold digger up to?’ Colt thinks, looking Ellie up and down.

‘Who does this asshole think he is?’ Ellie wonders, taking in Colt’s sullen displeased expression.

“Well, I see you two are getting along famously. Oh, by the way Ellie, you’ve been staying in Colt’s room, but now that he’s back, why don’t you officially move in with me?” Teppei proposes.

Ellie’s eyes widen. First the girlfriend comment, and now officially sharing a room? Is there actually potential here for a real relationship? For an actual future? She doesn’t bother to question if that’s something she actually wants.

Ellie smiles. “That works for me. I’ll bring my stuff up.”

“Do it quick. I want to get settled.” Colt adds harshly, hoisting a duffle bag onto his shoulder and heading off to his room.

Ellie rolls her eyes as she follows behind him. If she and Teppei end up becoming a real thing, is she going to be expected to act like this brat’s stepmother? She doesn’t think she can do it, and she doesn’t think Colt would let her for one second.

…

..

Ellie watches with angry crossed arms as Teppei and the rest of the crew leave for a job. A job Teppei said she wasn’t ready for, that she couldn’t handle it. She hates when he underestimates her. He has no idea what she’s capable of. She wonders if the crew is doing something really bad, really evil, and that’s why he doesn’t want her to know.

Ellie expels an irritated huff, stomping over to the kitchen to make herself some lunch.

“Stop throwing a temper tantrum, if you think you’re old enough to date a grown man you should stop acting like a toddler.” Colt taunts from the front desk.

Ellie doesn’t bother responding with words, flipping Colt her middle finger. He’s been here a month now, and their relationship has not improved at all from the bad impression they both got of each other at their initial meeting. Teppei doesn’t seem to care that they don’t get along, never attempting to get in the middle or forge some kind of bonding between them.

Colt abandons the front desk, coming into the kitchen to make his own snack. He doesn’t return to his post even as the phone starts ringing, continuing to make his sandwich.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” Ellie asks, irritated when the phone starts to ring again after Colt lets the first call go to voicemail.

“Why don’t you get it?” Colt counters.

“It’s not my job.”

“What is your job? It sure as hell doesn’t seem to be being an actual member of the crew.”

“I’m more in the crew than you are. You just get to answer phones. Is that what you studied for in college? Or did you get such bad grades that now Daddy is the only one who would give you a job?” Ellie retorts angrily.

“At least I finished college.” Colt hisses back, knowing it will hurt her. He knows the circumstances of why she had to drop out, what drew her to the crew instead of the professional career she had been working towards.

“Fuck you Colt.” She angrily finishes adding toppings to her salad, storming out of the kitchen and to her and Teppei’s room with her meal.

…

..

The crew starts going on more and more jobs without Ellie. Eventually, Teppei reveals it’s because he doesn’t fully trust her yet. He says she’ll need to prove her loyalty with time before he can bring her in on everything.

This lack of trust enrages Ellie. She’s been nothing but loyal to the crew, to Teppei, and he has the gall to tell her to her face that he just doesn’t trust her? She storms away before the tears welling up in her eyes begin to fall. She won’t give that man the satisfaction of her tears.

She goes up to the roof to cry, thinking she’ll be alone there, but Colt comes up a few minutes later, smoking a joint. He seems alarmed at her tears; no doubt consoling crying women is not part of his repertoire of skills. So, he silently hands over the joint, which she takes gratefully. And they don’t talk as they pass it back and forth, but they both feel a subtle shift in their dynamic.  

A gulf starts to grow between Teppei and Ellie. They lay in the same bed every night, but when Teppei reaches for her Ellie complains that she has a headache, or that she’s just not in the mood.

“Ellie, we’re leaving.” Teppei informs her weeks later as the crew heads out to another job she’s not involved in. She’s not involved in very much now-a-days, besides with the mess with the Brotherhood. Teppei needed all hands on deck for that one so he was forced to bring both her and Colt in.

“Teppei, when are you going to trust me? What do I have to do to show you that I’m 100% in?” Ellie asks as he turns around.

He turns back to face her, running a hand through his long dark hair. “There’s nothing you can do. It just takes time. The rest of the crew have been with me for years, they’ve shown their dedication.”

“And I haven’t? The fact that I’m here and not enrolled trying to finish my degree now that I’ve saved up some money doesn’t show you that I’m in?” Ellie counters.

Teppei lets out an impatient sigh. “I have to go. We can talk about this when I get back.” Teppei pulls her into a brief kiss before turning away and following the rest of the crew out of the garage.

Ellie sighs, she’s so sick of this. Maybe she should just leave if she’s not even a full-fledged member of the crew. But can she go back to college, and studying, and exams, when now she knows the thrill of running from the police? Pulling off a great heist? Coming up with a fool proof plan to get away with it time and time again?

She leans against a car propped up on a jack.

“Whoa! Hey!” A voice calls out from under the car.

“Huh?” Ellie looks down as Colt rolls himself out from under the car.

“You trying to drop this hunk of junk on me? I know you don’t like me, but are you seriously trying to kill me?” He complains, glaring at her. His eyes soften somewhat at the sad look in her eyes.  

“Can I lend a hand?” Ellie asks. It’ll be good to keep busy, make herself at least feel useful around the garage. She can tell Colt is thinking it over, so she adds, “I just…really need to keep my mind occupied right now.”

“Fine, lie down on that creeper.” Colt instructs, and Ellie follows his instructions, joining him under the car.

Colt meddles with the undercarriage. “We’re trying to get this driveshaft out. So, what’s got you all mopey?”

Ellie reaches into the undercarriage, loosening the wires around the driveshaft. “Why? So you can make fun of me?”

“I don’t make fun of you that much now-a-days.” Colt reminds her. They have been getting along better lately, mostly bonding over how they’re both irritated with how Teppei won’t let them really be in the crew.

“I really wanted to go on this job. I feel like I’ve proven myself time and time again and it’s never enough.” Ellie reveals.

“He’s never going to trust you. I think you remind him of my mom, who he thought was all in, but then she took me and left when he wouldn’t give up crime. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re like my mom. I trust you.” Colt refuses to make eye contact, fighting the blush rising to his cheeks when he can feel her turn to look at him as he finally gets the driveshaft out.

They both wheel themselves out from under the car, wiping the grease on their hands off on towels.

“Really? You trust me?”

“Sure, you really bailed us out with the Grapevine job.” Colt tries to play it off. “You’re smart, and I could really use your help if you have any ideas for how to deal with the Brotherhood. I feel like this is my big chance, my Dad finally bringing me into the fold, and I can’t fuck this up. Want to go for a ride? Out to the shore. It always…clears my mind.”

He steps to his motorcycle and tentatively holds out a helmet for her.

Ellie takes the offered helmet, buckling it on as Colt sits on his motorcycle. She gets on behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and trying to ignore the well-defined abs she can feel as he revs the engine.

…

..

“I can’t believe your dad made you jump from here as a small child.” Ellie mutters with disbelief after Colt tells her the story.

Colt chuckles, watching the sun set the sky on fire over the cliff’s edge. “What? That doesn’t jive with the warm cuddly image you have of your crime lord boyfriend?”

“My dad would have tried to stop me from jumping, worried about me getting hurt. Teppei doesn’t seem to have a paternal bone in his body.”

“Don’t let him get you pregnant.” Colt taunts, but there’s an underlying edge to his tone.

“You have to have sex to get pregnant.” Ellie mutters, looking away when he turns to look at her curiously.

“You’ve never-“

She interrupts. “We have. But not lately. We’re basically just roommates at this point.”

Colt seems to absorb that silently. Ellie is a little embarrassed that she’s revealed so much to Colt, so she changes the subject. “So, are we gonna jump?” Ellie asks.

“Seriously? You want to jump?”

Ellie is already stripping down into her underwear. “Seriously!”

Colt quickly strips down to just his boxers. Ellie can’t help but admire his fit physique. He’s hot, and young, and she’s definitely thinking things she should not be about her boyfriend’s son. But there’s definitely a hunger in his eyes as he takes her in practically naked that shows there are feelings on both sides. Feelings they should ignore.

Ellie shakes her head to try to clear it of any impure thoughts. “On the count of three.”

“One, two, three!” Colt calls out, and the pair run towards the edge together. Ellie can’t help but grip Colt’s hand just before they jump, and suddenly she’s not afraid.

They hit the water several moments later, and Ellie swims up to the surface. She spits out water and looks for Colt, who surfaces a few seconds later to her right. She swims over to him, drawn to him like a magnet.

He pushes his wet hair out of his face, grinning at her. “I almost forgot what that felt like.”

“See? Are you done downplaying everything?”

Colt looks at her with an intensity she’s not used to, and it stirs the fire that she’s felt building between them for months now. “Maybe I am.” He says, just before reaching out to cup her neck and bring her lips to his.

They fall into each other, like they’ve been waiting forever to do this. Colt’s fingers thread through her hair as he pulls her closer, treading water with just his legs as his free hand grips her hip. He bites her bottom lip gently, and then slips his tongue in her mouth when she lets out a little gasp of surprise.

Ellie’s arms grip his shoulders, trying to bring him even closer. She can’t get enough of him as her mouth moves hungrily over his. The electricity she feels as their tongues tangle is much more intense than any tingles she’s ever felt with Teppei, or any other man for that matter.

“Colt.” She murmurs as she rolls her hips against the bulge she can feel growing in his wet boxers.

Suddenly, he pulls away. “You’re with my dad. I can’t do this to him, or the crew.” He laments. Before Ellie can respond, he’s pulled her back in and is kissing her furiously once again, and she forgets what she even wanted to say.

He pulls away again, this time putting some distance between them. “Damn it, what’s wrong with me?!” Colt shouts, slamming his fist into the water.

“Colt, look, things are complicated with me and Teppei. I don’t think we were ever really together, and I feel like we’re certainly not together now.”

“Does he know that?” Colt challenges.

Ellie raises a brow. “Do you want to be the one to tell him?”

“That’s not my place. You have to be the one to do it.”

“And I will. When the timing is right, and it doesn’t leave me homeless and unemployed.” Ellie retorts.

Colt looks like he wants to say something else, but Ellie cuts him off with a gentle kiss that he eagerly deepens. “I want to be with you, but we have to be smart about this.” Ellie says softly.

Because they both know Teppei isn’t going to just give them his blessing and be happy for them.

Minutes later, the pair has climbed back up the cliff and put their clothes back on.

Ellie re-braids her hair, turning to look at Colt as they walk toward his motorcycle. “So, I was thinking about our problem with the Brotherhood…”

“You mean, how do we free ourselves from a violent gang without a full-on-turf war we’d definitely lose?”

“We need to offer them more than cars and money, we need to offer them the thing they want more than anything.” Ellie explains.

“Like what? They control the city, they have everything they could possibly want.”

“Then we make them think they don’t.” Ellie presses.

Colt pauses as he puts on his helmet, mulling it over. “…. huh.”

…

..

The only sound in the dark room is their labored breathing as they catch their breath. Ellie starts to climb off Colt’s lap, but he tightens his grip on her bare hips, keeping her in place.

“Again.” He murmurs, running a hand through her sweat dampened hair as he starts rocking up into her once again.

Ellie lets out a moan, digging her nails into his shoulders as she fights her urge to move with him. “I can’t. If I’m gone too long, he’ll be suspicious.”

“He’ll be in his office all night going over blueprints for tomorrow.” Colt insists. One hand leaves her hip to cup her cheek, bringing her lips to his for a tender kiss. “Stay with me tonight.”

Teppei trusts her now, after the success of her and Colt’s plan to take down the Brotherhood. They’re finally both all the way in with the crew. The fact that Teppei finally trusts her makes her feel worse about these trysts with Colt, but not bad enough to stop.

Ever since the night they went cliff diving, she sneaks out of Teppei’s bed in the middle of the night, tiptoeing down the stairs to his son’s room where they fall into his bed, mouths fused and hands eagerly shedding clothing. She continues to reject Teppei’s advances, saying she’s just not in the mood. She can tell he’s getting frustrated with her, but not frustrated enough to break up with her.

She wishes he would. Ellie doesn’t know how to end it, how to tell Teppei that she’s leaving him for his son. She knows it wouldn’t go over well. She’s not sure what Teppei is capable of in the face of such a betrayal.

Despite her fear of Teppei, her love of Colt makes her continue to risk getting caught in order to be with him. Colt loves her too, he’s told her so. Something his father has never said even though they’ve been together for over a year.

Colt has stopped urging her to tell Teppei. Now with time to think about it, he says they need a plan first. Their own money, their own criminal operation. Their own base. Colt has promised that he’s working on it, but these things take time. He can’t use any of his father’s contacts, he has to act secretly, and know who to trust, which is notoriously difficult in their circles.

But they’re in love, and some how they’re going to make it work.

…

..

“Shhh…. don’t cry baby. I promise you it’s going to be ok.” Colt soothes, kissing her forehead as he hugs her to him.

Despite his comforting words, Ellie doesn’t feel any better. There’s no way this is going to be ok. They should have been more careful. Ellie continues to cry into his shirt, clinging to his leather jacket desperately to keep him close.

“What are we going to do? I can’t get an abortion Colt, I went to Catholic school.”

Colt gently runs a hand through her hair before cupping her cheek. “No one is asking you to do that Ellie. This baby was conceived in love, of course we’re keeping it.”

“Then what are we going to do?!” Ellie asks again, looking up at him.

“Look, I hate to even suggest this, but if you sleep with my dad again could you convince him it’s his? Just to buy us a few months while I get the money we’ll need to start over.” Colt says weakly, hating the words as they come out of his mouth, but not seeing what else to do in this situation.

Ellie shakes her head. “I can’t. I’m already three months along. I’m going to start showing soon and the dates wouldn’t add up. He’s not stupid. Oh my god, what are we going to do?!”

“Shh.” He tries to soothe again. “Try to breathe sweetheart. Getting this riled up isn’t good for our baby.”

Ellie takes several deep breaths as Colt rubs circles into her back, trying to help her relax the tight muscles.

“We have to tell him the truth.” Colt finally acknowledges.

“He’ll kill us.” Ellie replies. “Like he killed the Brotherhood.”

“He won’t, he cares too much about appearances, legacy.” Colt rests his hand on Ellie’s stomach. “This right here? It’s the future of the Kaneko family, heir to the empire.”

Ellie squeezes her eyes shut, feeling like she’s going to be sick. She’s not as confident as Colt in the power of legacy and appearances.

…

..

“I need to tell you something.” Colt announces a week later, Ellie at his side as they stand in Teppei’s office.

Teppei looks over some documents. “Can it wait?” He asks, circling something in red.

“No, it’s important.” Colt responds.

“Then hurry up and tell me, I don’t have all day.” Teppei mutters, scratching something out and rewriting a number in black ink.

Colt looks to Ellie, slipping his hand into her’s. Teppei doesn’t even notice.  

Colt takes a deep breath before he speaks. “Ellie is pregnant with my baby. We’re in love and once I have enough money together, we’ll leave and set up out East, we’ll be out of your hair.” Colt says, voice strong and clear. But there’s an underlying nervousness that he can’t hide, a slight waver at the end when Teppei finally looks up, eyes narrowed.

The older Kaneko drops his pen, leaning back in his chair with eyes closed. He’s counting. Colt gulps. Teppei only counts when he’s so angry he’s afraid he’ll do something he regrets. “How long have you two been messing around behind my back?” He asks, thinly concealed rage evident in his tone.

“Six months.” Ellie admits softly.

Teppei glares at her. Ellie’s never felt Teppei’s rage directed at her, and if not for Colt’s grip on her hand she would have taken a step back. “Six months? For six months, you’ve been sleeping with my son? Lying to my face? After everything I’ve done for you? You ungrateful bitch.”

“You’re not going to talk to her like that.” Colt retorts, eyes narrowed.

Teppei’s enraged glare moves from Ellie to Colt. “And you. My own son? My only child? I offer you everything and this is what you do? Try to publicly humiliate me and drag the Kaneko name through the mud? Do you know how weak this would make me look? You’re trying to destroy everything my father, and his father, and his father before him worked for, you fucking traitor.”

“Fine, if you’re so worried about your precious reputation we can leave now. I’ll figure out the money.” Colt replies, starting to walk towards the door.

Kaneko moves quicker than either Ellie or Colt knew he could, gripping Colt’s arm roughly and turning him to face him. “You’re not going anywhere. There’s nowhere you can go where this won’t get out, where it won’t humiliate me.”

“Then we’ll leave the country.” Colt insists.

“I said no! You’ll stay in the country and do what you’re fucking told boy.” Teppei spits out. He rubs at his temples, formulating a plan. “I’ll tell everyone the baby is mine. It’s going to look like me after all.” Teppei decides.

“No.” Colt immediately responds.

“You’re in no position to try to tell me anything. I’ll blacklist your name all over the country, all over the world. You’ll never be able to get set up anywhere. I’ll ruin you Colt. Love won’t pay the bills. Love won’t feed your baby.”

Ellie’s eyes water as she takes in Teppei’s words. He’s trapping her in some type of loveless prison out of spite, and pride.

“Dad-“ Colt tries again to reason with his father, but Teppei puts up a hand to silence him.

“I’m not done. You’ll be going to Florida Colt. I’ve been in the process of setting up an operation there. You seem like the perfect man for the job.”

“I’m not leaving Ellie, or my baby.” Colt replies, hand squeezing her hand to the point where it almost hurts, but he seems so desperate to hang on to her that she says nothing.

“My girlfriend. And as far as anyone will know my baby.” Teppei replies darkly. “They’ll be fine, assuming you do as you’re told. Otherwise, I’m not so sure what will happen to them.”

“You sick motherfu-“ Colt starts, but Ellie interrupts him, pulling him down for a too brief kiss. He can taste her salty tears when she pulls away.

“Colt, I love you, but I can’t.” Ellie thinks back to the days after her father died, when she was desperate, and destitute, and scared. She can’t live like that, their baby shouldn’t have to live like that, struggling constantly and fearful of when Teppei will strike.

“Ellie, no. We’ll figure this out. I love you, and I’m not going to lose you.”

“You lose her either way. But I’m offering you a way where she and your baby are comfortable. What is it going to be?” Teppei asks.

…

..

3 years later

“Ellie, look up.” Teppei instructs as Ellie carries a tray of food over to the table. She’s trying to be a good hostess for this Christmas party, which would be easier if Teppei wasn’t constantly doing performative couple things like trapping her under the mistletoe for their audience of LA’s biggest criminals.

Ellie plasters on a fake smile, leaning up to give Teppei a chaste kiss.

Teppei returns a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, patting her bottom as she walks away.

“When are you going to marry that girl Kaneko? Hasn’t it been like 5 years? And you guys have a kid.” Salazar yells drunkenly, swaying unsteadily from too much eggnog.

Teppei shrugs. “I didn’t marry the mother of my other kid.”

Salazar laughs, clapping Kaneko heartily on the back. He’s clearly really drunk, thinking he can be so friendly with LA’s deadliest car criminal.

“Daddy!” A little girl clad in snowflake decorated pajama yells, running into Kaneko’s arms.

Teppei smiles, a real one this time. He loves his granddaughter dearly, despite the circumstances of her conception. He tickles her before throwing her onto his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be asleep Noelle.” He chides.

“How is anyone supposed to sleep through this?” Mona asks, chewing on a gingerbread cookie.

Noelle giggles as Logan makes silly faces at her. “I would also love to be asleep. Can we start clearing this party out soon?” Logan asks.

“All the guests haven’t arrived yet, so the party can’t end.” Kaneko insists.

“Who’s not here? They’re three hours late!” Toby complains.

“Yeah, yeah, you try getting in on time coming from the East Coast during winter.” Colt replies, dropping his duffle back to the floor.

“You live in Miami Colt, I assume you’re not getting delayed by too many winter storms.” Logan retorts, rolling his eyes.

“But my connection went through DC, asshole.” Colt fires back, glaring at his old nemesis.

“Colt.” Teppei greets warmly, for appearances of course. He can’t have people noticing splinters in the Kaneko family. That’s why he has to invite Colt to these gatherings, lest people get suspicious.

“Dad.” Colt returns, less warm, but nothing that would raise alarms to the deep-seated troubled relationship between father and son.

“Daddy, I want cake.” Noelle says when she spots her mother coming towards the group, a plate with a sliver of cake in her hands.

Colt winces when Noelle calls Teppei ‘Daddy’. That always hurts.

“Say hi to your brother first.” Teppei insists, taking Noelle off his shoulders and handing her to Colt.

“Hi Colt!” Noelle says happily, squeezing his neck in a hug.

“Hi Noelle. I can’t believe how big you are. I missed you!” Colt returns, hugging her tightly. He sets his daughter on the ground, turning to face Ellie. She looks beautiful in her red Christmas dress, and he physically aches from his desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her in greeting. But they don’t do stuff like that anymore, so instead he nods at her respectfully. “Ellie.”

“Colt. How was your flight?” Ellie returns.

“Delayed, but it was fine.” Colt answers, and that’s that. They have nothing else to say to each other.

“Mommy, I want cake.” Noelle says again.

“No Noelle, we already brushed your teeth.” Ellie replies.

“But I want cake!” The little girl complains, starting to throw a fit.

“Come on Ellie, it’s Christmas. I’ll re-brush her teeth.” Colt offers.

“Well aren’t you the sweetest big brother?” Ximena teases, squeezing Colt’s cheek.

Colt waves her off, taking the rest of the cake from Ellie and handing it to Noelle, who grins at him. “Thank you Colt! I love you!”

“I love you too peanut.” Colt replies.

After re-brushing her teeth, Colt tucks Noelle into bed. The music from downstairs is loud, so he sets his phone onto her nightstand and plays lullaby music as his daughter drifts off to sleep. He smiles when her sleepy brown eyes drift shut, placing a kiss to her forehead.

“She’s going to be so confused when we tell her the truth.” Ellie mutters from the doorway as she watches Colt put their daughter to sleep.

“Kids are resilient. She’ll adapt.” Colt insists.  

“How much longer?” Ellie whispers after she closes Noelle’s door, walking closer to Colt.

Colt draws Ellie into his arms, like he’s wanted to do all night, kissing her slowly and thoroughly. “Three more months.” He whispers against her lips, before he kisses her again.

“And you’re sure he’s not going to be able to find us?” Ellie asks, still dubious that their long nightmare could be ending.

“Not in Cuba. Thanks to the embargo he’s never had any business there, no contacts. And then we go from Cuba to London with new identities. It’s fool proof Ellie, I promise you. You just have to trust me.”

“I do trust you. I love you Colt.”

“And I love you Ellie.”

…

..

.  

taglist:  @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesarehard @lovehugsandcandy@desiree-0816 @regina-and-happiness @iplaydrake @choicesgremlin​ @maxwellsquidsuit​ @eileendannie @liamzigmichael4ever​ @ohsnapitzlovehacker​ @client-327​ @cora-nova​ @umiumichan​ @angrypainterfarmopera @badchoicesposts​ @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @sparklinglilac​ @pixel-thirsty @mrskaneko @lovemychoices​ @akrenich​ @crispycrunchyleaves​

[hollenka99]

Khenir and Minarv

Summary: When the gods choose to target you, life will never be the same.

Warnings: implied gore, blood, mentions of death

I'm sure you've heard the tale of Khenir and Minarv. I find it is a popular story that you enjoy passing on to the generations succeeding yours. You humans always did take a liking to tragedies with silver linings. If it is one of love and godly intervention, you consume it all the more enthusiastically. Let us clarify something first. There has always been one detail you seem to insist on getting wrong. Birds have existed as long as there have been nuts, berries and the like to sustain them. Khenir never created birds and other winged creatures. In fact, he often admired the birds that visited outside his home. Took a fancy to capturing their likeness of paper too. The only avian species which owe their existence to him are loons and horned owls. Being the god of birds does not necessarily imply you are the creator of all birds. With that irk of mine expressed, I believe I should begin. These were the days before the human population was to reach a million. We gods were acknowledged with a fierce intensity. You feared us. More than that, you feared what we could do to you or your loved ones when displeased. Don't worry. I should assure you it took effort to anger me back then. To this day, I continue to see no use in introducing you to my brother sooner than is required. It was also the time of great animosity between Keajic and Scyta. The skies and sea respectively. You got a lot more storms out at sea back then. Once, she sent a great tidal wave to devastate a town Keajic had deep admiration for. To spite her back, he had directed a gale to steer a fleet lead by one of her sons into rocks. That was the least of it. Suffice to say, anything could set them off. And the results would be disastrous for all those involved. Which is where Khenir and Minarv come in. As you may know, whenever one of you is born, it is my job to determine how long it is before you meet Tain. I have no real say in when you will die, you understand. All I do is find the likeliest timeline of your life and note it in my records. You don't call me the Chronicler for nothing, after all. But you see, if there is one thing I've always admired about humanity, it's the flexibility of your lives. All it takes is one occasion to cause your life's course to completely diverge. Khenir was going to be a farmer like his ancestors before him and potential descendants after him. He'd likely find a woman to marry and raise children with. A rather insignificant and mundane life spanning 72 years. As for Minarv, he'd be raised to be a fisherman by his father and the rest of the community. There was no conventional settling down in his most probable future. Waves stretching past the horizon would be a common backdrop of his adult life until he had the misfortune of being the victim of a poorly treated wound at the age of 38. Oh, stop pitying him. What is it with you humans and your belief the only type of life that will bring happiness and satisfaction is one ending in old age? He would have been perfectly happy doing what he loved for a living. Honestly, you come across as obsessed with watching loved ones slowly decay before you while they still breathe. You call that desirable? Either way, those were the most likely outcomes of their life. With how easily paths can branch off, nothing is guaranteed. The easiest way for your life's course to be altered is divine intervention. Should I detect a child has the chance to be someone whose life future generations will regale the story of, I pay them a visit. To tell you the truth, your reactions to my presence have always intrigued me. Some parents are ecstatic to know their child may have notoriety one day. It isn't uncommon for parents to weep or becoming protective as the gravity of their child's potential future dawns on them. Were I mortal, I would likely be amongst the horrified too. You, of course, ruined it slightly by transforming it into a tradition. You pick any elderly male neighbour and have him be part of the child's 1st birthday celebrations. No man can ever truly replicate my visitations. Your efforts are but a cheap imitation. What is all this about having them blessed over a sundial or clock? Believe me, if I wanted to bestow anything upon your child, I would do so in person. Nevertheless, I appeared in the countryside and spoke to Khenir's mother under the alias of a travelling merchant. Still an infant, Khenir was nonplussed by my being there. I doubt his mother realised the truth of my identity when I gently touched her son's head. The young Minarv I met, on the other hand, was a charming little boy when I made my way to the coast. With great excitement, he gestured to his father's ship which had been approaching the docks. Said father was none too pleased to have me be the disguised god blessing his firstborn. Apparently, he had hoped it would be Scyta, if any of us at all. Oh, if only he'd known. The years passed and the boys grew to be young men. They learned the respective trades of their families while also developing hobbies involving the flute and sketching. Their individual paths carried on leading them towards a life unaware of the other. The thing with Scyta is that she enjoys acquainting herself with mortal men. Fishermen and sailors in particular. If I had to name her favourite type of mortal, it was one who frequented her domain and respected her authority over it. You can probably see where this is going. Yes, she is the one who instigated this whole mess. Although, I doubt she was expecting the result it got. Even I can't accurately anticipate the whims of my kin all the time. Not for lack of effort, I assure you. Scyta subtly pursuing Minarv? That I could have foreseen without trying. Predicting her spouse's reaction took no effort either. Schea had always been jealous of their wife. It's understandable when your significant other has a habit of using the very thing you control to entice mortals. What better to prevent a relationship than ensure the target of the affections was unavailable. The main flaw in Schea's plan was that they naturally appear as the most attractive person in the eyes of whomever sees them. Therefore, the two men would be enamoured by the stranger attempting to unite them. The result is always achieved regardless. All Schea needs to do is ensure the pair meet eyes while they maintain physical contact with both members of the couple. A hand on each back, one look and that was that. By the docks, with a crisp ocean breeze blowing, Khenir and Minarv met. As the months progressed, they spent as much of Minarv's time on land together as they were able. The fisherman would play music while the farmer would sketch him. They were in love and deeply so. No amount of conversation with the mysterious woman supposedly living near the shore could reverse that. Naturally, Scyta refused to admit defeat and move on to her next target. More so than that, events were beginning to unfold. Minarv frequently prayed to her for the sake of safe trips. Being intrigued by birds and their ability to fly is what attracted Keajic's attention towards Khenir. Each had a mortal on their 'side'. And these mortals were lovers? No, that wouldn't do. Whether the two gods had been looking to trigger a fight between themselves or not, they'd still found a suitable reason to. Things were about to get problematic. Minarv became caught in the crossfire when his ship sunk, causing him to be the only survivor. The crops in Khenir's region failed after Sugan was to persuaded to become momentarily involved. Their livelihoods were being threatened purely because Minarv refused to concede. I recall Schea was pleased with themself, thrilled to see a match they'd created cause such conflict. Casquej had inevitably grown fond of them, given his specialty is the creative arts. I was witnessing paths be rapidly redirected as the two men's lives were thrown into turmoil. Even Tain became agitated by this mess. More humans had died than was necessary and the increasing work on his part to stay up to date with it all was enough to get him to join our cause. I know, I know, I never imagined involving myself in ridiculous spats either. Regardless, enough was enough. My brother and I were mostly ambivalent about their fate. Casquej, however, wished for there to be a happy ending to the whole ordeal. Whatever worked. We promised to co-operate in an effort to stop the madness before all our kin were dragged into it. The plan, as you may recall, was to offer them a secret paradise. A world detached from time as they had known it. Somewhere they could be safe from their torment. Khenir could admire the wildlife to his heart's content while there were enough bodies of water to satisfy Minarv. More importantly, there was no threat of death or misery. I appeared to them as a child. Claiming to be one of my own half-mortal offspring, I convinced the lovers to follow me to a mountain pass. Once we arrived, I showed them how to activate the entrance. A set of instructions later and I left them to it. I made it explicitly clear, they were not to spend longer than a month over there in one go. Those instructions were simple enough. If I were mortal, I would have disappeared for a month, returned to the regular world for two or three months then come back to the haven I knew had been made for me. Humans will be humans, I suppose. These types of stories usually have at least one moment that could have been easily avoided if the protagonist had thought things through in the moment. A month there was approximately a week outside of it. I made it so in an attempt to aid them. They followed my precautions in the beginning. A month became 6 weeks sometimes or they'd return slightly sooner than they should have. Gradually, they strayed further from my warnings. With all this deviation, it was inevitable really. Scyta and Keajic discovered why their pawns were absent. I admit it did not help that they revelled in their paradise for three months straight by regular standards. To make it worse, they had the intelligent idea to go their separate ways by the shore. Which was where the gods were waiting for them. We gods have a habit of being ridiculously petty. I have no need to tell you that which you are already aware. If a mortal stands in the way of what we hope to achieve, and we are bitter enough, we will discard of a life. What is one or two amongst thousands, millions or even billions? Both Keajic and Scyta were more than bitter enough. Even Tain showed up to witness it, albeit from a notable distance. There are very few mortals who have been personally reaped by him. Being in the company of four gods must be overwhelming enough for mortals. Even more so when Death and Time act as onlookers to your demise. Perhaps that is why they gripped each other's hands as if it would prevent their permanent separation. Being favoured by me will only buy you seconds on your deathbed. I'll make those seconds seem longer than they are, providing a chance to say your goodbyes if desired, but they are still only seconds. That amount of time sounds short to you? Imagine how trivial that duration is to me, a being who has lived for millennia and knows infinity. Keajic denied Minarv the very air he took for granted. In retaliation, Scyta commanded the ocean to make its home in Khenir's lungs. As they both asphyxiated, their fingers defiantly remained intertwined. Why it took me until this point to put my foot down, I am not sure. Possibly because I believed it was not my place to directly intervene. What was more important was that I was inserting myself in the midst of the conflict. Time stopped. I berated Keajic and Scyta for using the men for their games. Minarv had respected Scyta. The same could be said about Khenir and Keajic. Now however? It would be a miracle if either of them respected us at all. They were not made to be tormented relentlessly. Leave your opponent's favoured be and continue your squabbling somewhere more mortals wouldn't be endangered nor risk having the courses of their lives skewed. Could we agree to end this now? The rulers of sky and sea exchanged a glare. As much as they were enemies, they seemed to share the same unspoken idea in that moment. At the time, I was under the impression they were silently agreeing my pleas were rational. I had expected to continue time once more, them to walk away and the human lovers to carry on living until their appointments with Tain were scheduled. My mistake was trusting them to not slight me. I will spare you the goriest details. No doubt you've already come across versions of this story that don't shy away from it. As wings forced their way out from underneath Khenir's shoulder blades, his muscles formation shifted too in an attempt to accommodate them. Everything Minarv wouldn't need any longer became lost to him. His lungs ceased to be just in time for Scyta to drag him under the waves. You may have found the red traces mixing with the ocean in the aftermath of his legs fusing disturbing but I've seen worse. In most depictions of them, I'm sure you'll find Minarv with a black tail littered with white spots or Khenir with wings of yellow, red and a particularly light blue. That's all linked to the whole creation of loons and flagfin shiners ordeal. A bird which dives into the water to feed and a fish to keep it fed. I suppose you may find it sweet with your notions of romance. Know that they change forms as often as the rest of us gods so these visual depictions are not always accurate. All immortality has given them is more time to spend with each other. Neither is capable of human speech any longer but they seem to have developed their own method of communication. With all the chirping, whistling and whatever else they have at their disposal, I can vaguely understand them. Minarv is responsible for your stories of sirens as well. Despite having their anatomy transformed in an effort to permanently separate them, the pair still resisted their limitations. As such, they had to determine if the other happened to be nearby. Once a singer, always a singer. Humans would hear Minarv attempting to attract his beloved's attention and created tales of a creature that lured you into the water. You know, I never enquired what either of them thought about those myths. Perhaps I should, the next chance I get. Ah, speaking of which... Look at that. There is only one great horned owl whom I know would stray so far from its native homeland. Hello Khenir! Just returning from a visit, I presume? I dare say I should see him myself. Care to share with me how it went? After all, I have all the time in the world.

[shiroslefttesticle]

Sweetheart, good luck with the new blog? May I ask for headcanons of the male paladins with a female reader who is insecure about her appearance? Have a great day UvU

Hey love, thank you so much! Like you asked I did all of the male paladins but if there’s anyone that someone wants to be added, feel free to send in another request and I’ll edit them in.

Shiro

Shiro isn’t a stranger when it comes to being insecure about your appearance.

He’s probably still adjusting to his arm and he has a lot of various scars from all the battles he gets into.

So when he hears that you’re insecure about your appearance? Honestly, his heart breaks a little.

You’re the one truly good thing he has amidst all the chaos going on and to hear that you don’t view yourself as beautiful makes him a bit upset.

Despite having personal experience with insecurities, he might not be 100% sure what to do for you at first.

So he talks. And Shiro is an excellent speaker.

The way he talks doesn’t make it sound like he’s forcing himself to come up with compliments, it sounds so genuine and sincere that you probably tear up a bit.

He keeps a close eye on you after you talk to him the first time.

Anytime he notices that you seem to feel a little down, he’s there to reassure you that you are stunning inside and out.

He’s not huge on PDA but if you’re with all the other crew members or on an alien planet trying to promote diplomacy and he notices that you’re kind of hiding yourself he’ll do little things to help.

Like hold your hand and do that thing where he squeezes lightly and runs his thumb back and forth.

Or wrap his arm around your waist so he can hold you close to him.

It helps quell your insecurities, at least for the time being.

If you two are alone, sitting in the common room, he’ll have you lay across his lap or rest your head on his shoulder just so that he can feel you close to him and vice versa.

He’ll stroke your cheek with his thumb or something while you two talk about whatever you want and he subtly slips in compliments every so often.

Y/n: “That alien banquet we went to the other night was a lot of fun.”

Shiro: “It was, and you looked absolutely beautiful too.”

If you’re really adamant about changing yourself because you’re insecure about your weight or something, he’ll help you train more.

He makes sure you don’t injure or push yourself too hard.

It can also be super motivating to have a workout buddy.

Plus sometimes he might be prone to *ahem* a little hands on adjustment when you’re stretching and that certainly doesn’t feel bad ;))

With all the extra time you two start putting into training, not only do you look and feel great, but you two become absolutely lethal on the battlefield and if that isn’t workout motivation already, I don’t know what is.

He just wants you to be happy and he’s so so supportive of anything you feel you need to do to achieve that as long as it’s safe.

Lance

This boy is floored? How could you not like your appearance??? He thinks you’re a goddess.

We’ve all seen the various creatures that Lance has crushed on, he really does not give a fuck about traditional human beauty standards.

He’s willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel better about yourself, whether that’s neverending words of praise or an impromptu DIY spa day.

Seriously, if you’re feeling insecure over acne or something else skin related, he’ll whip you up a special face mask and let you wear his robe while he applies a hair mask on you.

He probably gives you his headphones so you can listen to some relaxing music.

If music isn’t your thing, he’ll talk to you. This boy has conversation topics for days.

He doesn’t want to completely overwhelm you with compliments because he’s aware that not everyone is comfortable with receiving a bunch at once but he does make sure that he points out specific parts of your body that he really likes.

Which is everything.

By the end of your spa session, you’re going to be so pampered and relaxed and will probably smell like a flower shop. Insecurity who?? I don’t know her.

Lance already complimented you normally throughout the day on small things.

It was mostly through cheesy pickup lines tbh.

Lance, looking at you during training: “Hey babe are you wearing space pants? Because your ass is out of this world.” *finger guns before getting knocked over by Pidge.*

But now he steps up the compliments.

Congrats, Lance is your personal hype man.

Seriously, you doing anything, no matter how small the task, results in Lance complimenting you.

You kicked ass during training? Compliments.

You helped Hunk make food? Compliments.

You’re just chilling in the common room? Compliments.

If you’re uncomfortable with receiving a whole bunch of attention at once, Lance will wait until the end of the day, when you two are alone, to tell you everything he thought about you during the day.

This is probably the best time tbh because the two of you are probably just curled up next to each other in bed or sitting on his floor next to each other playing video games and it’s just so personal.

His voice is probably quieter than usual since it’s just you two and it’s the end of the day, so you have to lean in a tiny a bit to hear him.

It’s just so soft and serene??? I’m blushing.

Keith

When he hears about your insecurities, he’s conflicted.

On one hand, he’s willing to do anything to help end those thoughts.

On the other hand, he has no idea what he should do.

He’s not much of a talker but he is a fantastic listener.

He’d totally be down to just sit with you and listen as you vent about your feelings and insecurities.

Unless he’s feeling particularly passionate, don’t expect a sudden downpour of compliments from him.

If he is feeling passionate though, he’ll give you a long-winded speech about how everything, everything about you is gorgeous, from the way your lips curl up when you smile to even the way you walk.

Like I said though, these speeches are rare (mostly because he’ll get flustered and start blushing not even midway through) and will only ever happen in private.

He will try to go out of his way to compliment you more often though if that’s what you want.

At first, they’ll probably sound a little awkward because they’ll happen sporadically and will sound totally out of place but he’s trying.

As time goes on though, he begins to get the hang of it and the compliments sound better and have better timing.

He also tries to up his physical affection.

Nothing too wild, but he’ll hold your hand, gently pat your shoulder when you pass each other in the halls, quick pecks on the cheek/forehead/lips/etc.

If it’s just you two (or even just the other paladins once he truly gets comfortable) he’ll hold you close to him whenever you two are sitting with each other.

When you’re completely alone he’ll take advantage of this position to whisper small compliments in your ear or vent about his own day to distract you.

If you’re around the other paladins, he’ll just sit quietly and maybe stroke your arm.

When this first happened, Lance took the opportunity to try to tease Keith until Keith delivered a one-sentence roast so hot, Lance nearly die on the spot.

Lance left Keith alone after that.

If you’re having a particularly bad day, he’ll ask if you want to spar with him.

He doesn’t do it with the intention of promoting weight loss and releasing endorphins but if that does happen, then hey, that’s a total bonus.

He offers to spar because he knows that training helps him take his mind off the things that trouble him and he hopes that it’ll have that same effect on you.

If sparring isn’t your thing and you just want to stay in your room, he’ll bring you everything you need.

An extra soft blanket? Check.

You need some water? Check.

You just want to lay in bed quietly next to him? Check!

Overall, Keith might be a little awkward at first but as time goes on he’ll get the hang of things and gradually your insecurities will begin to dissipate.

Hunk

You’re probably sitting on one of the kitchen counters while Hunk is busy baking when you ask if he thinks you’re pretty.

At first Hunk doesn’t think he heard you right.

I mean what kind of question is that? Of course he thinks you’re pretty!

You kind of just shrug at his response and he decides he should press you more on the subject.

When you open up about all of your insecurities, Hunk is shocked because he thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the universe and he genuinely doesn’t understand how you can interpret anything you see in the mirror to be less than that.

He invites you to cook with him as he personally finds the motions of cooking (kneading dough, stirring batter) to be therapeutic and relaxing and allow him to work through his emotions.

He’s giving you such a hopeful look that you can’t say no and you find that he’s right. Before you even realize it, you’re opening up about everything that’s bothering you.

During this time he’ll be listening intently, occasionally interjecting if what you’re saying is too ridiculous, but he won’t stop your venting.

Instead, he will wait until you’ve said everything you wanted and then he’ll list all of his favorite things about you.

He knows that believing the bad stuff is easier than believing the good stuff so he’ll make sure to also throw in some compliments about you outside of your appearance, like about the stuff you excel at, whether that’s training, programming, cooking, or even something like cleaning the healing pods. He does this so that even if you don’t listen to his compliments on your appearance, you might listen to the compliments about your talents and can use them as a stepping stone to becoming more confident.

At the end of all this, you feel a bit better AND you have a nice batch of freshly made cookies, not the scaultrite ones, he learned his lesson.

Hunk is an A+ listener and is always down to listen to you vent when you need it.

But he makes sure that you know he thinks you’re beautiful.

Every compliment he gives you is overflowing with sincerity.

If you want to try changing your diet, Hunk will support you and make different healthy recipes until you find a few that you enjoy.

He’ll go out of his way to find weird space fruits for you too if you want some to snack on. 

Even if you don’t want to change your diet, he’ll always invite you to be in the kitchen with him, even if you just sit on the counters while he does all the cooking.

As a result, the kitchen kind of becomes a safe space for you two and anytime you need to open up about something, you typically do it in the kitchen.

He has the most perfect arms to cuddle into if you need physical reassurance.

Truly those arms are one of his best features. Buff and strong but soft and warm at the same time.

You won’t even have to ask for physical reassurance, he already does it naturally.

Hunk is a very intuitive guy so he knows when you’re feeling down, even if you haven’t talked about it, and he is always ready to comfort you and silence any insecurities you might be facing.

[andrewdburton]

Socially Responsible Investing: Is It Also More Profitable?

Since the Dawn of Mustachianism in 2011, the same question has come up over and over again:

“MMM, I see your point that index fund investing is the best option. But when you buy the index, you’re getting oil companies, factory farm slaughterhouses and a million other dirty stories.

How can I get the benefits of investing for early retirement without contributing to the decline of humanity?”

And in these nine years since then, the movement towards socially responsible investing has only grown. Public pension funds have started to “divest” from oil company stocks, and various social issues like human rights, child labor, climate change or corporate corruption have bubbled to the surface at different times.

And all of this has led to the exploding new field of Socially Responsible Investing (SRI), and a growing array of new ways to do it.

So it seems that this is not just a passing trend – people just might be starting to care a bit more. And since capitalism is just an expression of human behavior, the nature of capitalism itself may be starting to change.

This leads us naturally to the question:

What can I do with my money to help fix the world? And even better, is there a way I can make money in the process of fixing it?

The answer is a good, solid “Probably.”

As long as you don’t get too hung up on getting every last detail perfect, because just like real life, investing is a haphazard and approximate and unpredictable thing. But by understanding the big picture, you can make slightly better decisions on average, which lead to slightly better results. And slightly better results, stacked up consistently over time, can lead to a much better life, or even a much better world.

This is true in all of the main areas we care about – personal wealth, fitness and health, even relationships and happiness. And while your money and investments are certainly not the most important thing in life, they are still worthy of a bit of easy and effective optimization.

So anyway, the first thing to understand with SRI is, “what problem am I trying to solve?”

The answer is, “You are trying to make your investing (especially index fund investing) have a better impact on the world.”

On its own, index fund investing is ridiculously simple. You just get an account at any brokerage like Vanguard, Etrade, Schwab or whatever, and dump all your money into one exchange-traded fund: VTI.

When you do this, you are buying a stake in 3500 companies at once(!), which is both impressive and overwhelming. How do you even know what you are holding?

Well, this is all public information, and easily available with a quick Google search. For example, here’s a list of the top 90 holdings in VTI (click for larger):

Top 90 holdings in Vanguard’s VTI Exchange Traded Fund

As you can see, the biggest chunk of money is allocated to today’s tech darlings, because this index fund is weighted according to market value, and these are the most valuable companies in the US today.

Through a convenient coincidence, the total value of the VTI fund happens to be just under $1 trillion dollars, which means you can just throw a decimal point after the ten billions digit of market value to get a percentage. In other words, about 4.7% of your money will go towards Apple stock, 4.4 towards Microsoft, and so on. Together, these top 90 companies are worth more than the remaining 3,540 companies combined, so these are what really drive your retirement account.

And within this list, you will see some of the usual suspects: Exxon and Chevron (oil), Philip Morris (tobacco), Raytheon and Lockheed (bombs), and so on.

But what about the less-usual suspects? For example, I happen to think that sugar, and especially sugar-packed beverages like Coke, is the biggest killer in the developed world – a major contributor to 2 million of the 2.8 million deaths each year in the US alone. Should I exclude that from my portfolio too?

And what about drug and insurance companies – aren’t they behind the political stalemate and high costs of the US healthcare system? Comcast funded some election disinformation campaigns here in my home town in the early 2010s, should I exclude them too? And if you’re part of a religion that is against charging interest on loans, or in favor of pasta and Pirate costumes, or against a spherical Earth, or any number of additional ornate rules, you may have still more preferences.

The higher your desire for perfection, the more difficult this exercise will become. However, if you are like me and you just want to get most of the desired result with minimal effort, you might simply have a look at the Vanguard fund called ESGV.

ESG stands for “Environmental, Social and Governance”, and in practice it just means “We have tried to avoid some of the shittier companies according to some fairly simple rules.”

And the result is this:

Vanguard’s ESGV Exchange traded fund (ETF) – top 90 holdings

The first thing you’ll notice is that it’s almost the same. In fact, the top five holdings – Apple, Microsoft, Amazon, Facebook, Alphabet (Google) and Netflix not far behind, collectively referred to as the FAANG stocks – are completely unchanged – and this means that there will be plenty of correlation between these funds.

It’s also the reason that the stock market as a whole has recovered so quickly from this COVID-era recession: small businesses like restaurants and hair salons have been destroyed by the shutdowns, but big companies that benefit from people staying at home and using computers and phones are making more money than ever. The stock market isn’t the whole economy, it’s just the publicly traded companies, which are the big ones.

But let’s look at the biggest differences between the normal index fund versus the social version.

The following large companies listed on the left are missing in the ESGV fund, in order of size. And to make up the difference, the stake in the companies on the right have been boosted up to take their place in your portfolio.

Main differences between VTI and ESGV (source: etfrc)

The omission of Berkshire Hathaway was a bit of a shocker, as it is run with solid ethical principles by Warren Buffet, one of the worlds most generous philanthropists. And in fact the modern day nerd-saint Bill Gates is on the Berkshire board of directors, another person whose work I follow and respect greatly.

(side note: Apparently the company fails on the “independent governance” category. And Buffet disputes this category, but in his characteristic way has decided to say, “Fuck it, I’ma just keep doing my own thing with my half-trillion dollar empire over here and you can have fun with your little committee” – I’m paraphrasing a bit but he totally did say that.)

Furthermore, both funds hold the factory meat king Tyson foods, while neither holds Roundup-happy Monsanto, because it was bought by the German conglomerate Bayer AG a while back. Nextera is a giant electric utility in the Southeastern US that claims to be the world’s largest generator of renewable energy. Some do-gooders are against nuclear power, while others (including me) think it’s the Bee’s Knees and we should keep advancing it. And all this just goes to show how nobody will agree 100% on what makes a good socially responsible fund.

But What About The Performance?

In the past, some investors were nervous about giving up oil companies in their portfolio, because while it was a dirty substance, it was also what made the world go round – which meant it was a cash cow.

Now, however, oil is on its way out as renewable energy and battery storage have crossed the cost parity threshold – meaning it’s cheaper to make power (and vehicles) that don’t use oil. In its place, technology is the new cash cow, and tech is heavily represented in the ESG funds. The result:

Traditional index fund (VTI) vs Socially Responsible equivalent (ESGV)

As you can see, the performance has been similar but the ESG fund has done significantly better in the (admittedly short) time since it was introduced at Vanguard.

Of course, we have no idea if this will continue, but the point is that at least our thesis is not a ridiculous one – environmentally sustainable companies do have an advantage, if the world gradually starts to care more about these things. And if you look at the share price of Tesla and other companies that surround it in electric transportation and energy storage, you will see that there are many trillions of dollars already lining up to benefit from this transition. And the very presence of so much investment money creates a self-fulfilling prophecy, as Tesla is now building or expanding five of the world’s largest factories on three continents simultaneously.

So What Should You Do? (and what I do myself)

My latest home-brewed ebike project – this one can reach 42MPH / 67km/hr!

First of all, it helps to remember a fundamental piece of economics: your spending dollars will probably have a much bigger impact than your investment dollars. This is because you are sending a direct message to the world rather than an indirect one:

When you buy a new gasoline-powered Subaru (or a tank of gas for your existing guzzler) or a steak at the grocery store, or a plane ticket, you are telling those company directly that consumers want more of these products, so they will produce more of them immediately.

When you buy shares in Exxon, you are only subtly raising the demand for those shares, which raises the average price, making it ever-so-slightly easier for Exxon to maybe issue more shares in the future. In other words, you are making it easier for them to access capital. But capital is only useful if there is demand for their products. And with oil there is a nearly constant surplus, which is why OPEC and other cartels need to work together to artificially restrict supply, just to keep prices up.

Plus, as a shareholder you are theoretically eligible to place votes and influence the future direction of companies – even companies that you don’t like. If you look up the field of “shareholder activism”, you’ll see this is a tradition that goes way back.

So I have tried to take a few simple steps on the consumer side myself, and I find it quite satisfying: Insulating the shit out of all of my properties, building a DIY solar electric array on one of them, and buying one electric car so far to eliminate local gas burning. And a few electric bikes including a super fast one I made myself.

Each one of these steps has provided a very high economic return, percentage-wise, but that still leaves a lot of money to account for, which brings us back to stock investing.

As someone who loves simplicity, I have done this:

Bought almost entirely VTI (or similar Vanguard funds) from 2000-2015

Started experimenting with Betterment in 2015, liked it, and have been adding a percentage of my ongoing savings to that account to that since then. (Note that Betterment now also offers a socially responsible portfolio option.)

Switched the dividend re-investing of my old Vanguard VTI over to Vanguard ESGV, to avoid “wash sales” in making the most of Betterment’s tax loss harvesting feature.

Bought some shares of Berkshire Hathaway separately, and also make a few sentimental investments in local businesses, including the MMM HQ Coworking space.

But you could choose to be more hardcore in your ESG/SRI investing:

Buy your own basket of stocks based on the index, but with different weighting based on your own values

Spend more money on other things that generate or save money (a bigger solar array on your house, better insulation, electric car, an ebike to reduce car trips, etc.)

Invest in local businesses of your choice, rental real estate, community solar projects, or other things which generate passive income – publicly traded stocks are just one of many ways to fund an early retirement!

Like most areas of life, investing is not something you have to do perfectly in order to succeed – even socially responsible investing. If you apply the 80/20 rule to get the big picture right, you have probably found the Sweet Spot and you can move on to the next area of life to optimize.

In the Comments: What is your own investment strategy? Have you thought at all about this ESG / SRI stuff? Did this article bring anything new to the table?

from Finance https://www.mrmoneymustache.com/2020/08/22/socially-responsible-investing/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[baz-you-numpty]

Giving In to Snow

Part 2 of my eighth year Aridante inspired fic, courtesy of @snowbazzled ‘s post here

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

26th February, Baz It's Wednesday afternoon, which means two hours of games. We're on the football unit at the moment, which is fine by me. I can play football. I do play football. I'm on the school team. Simon Snow can't play football. But he does. You have to. Six half terms, six sports. Hockey and rugby in winter, football and tennis in the spring term, and then track and cricket in summer. And it's the first half term of the spring term, so all the boys play football. That includes Simon. Simon Snow plays football like he does everything else: chaotically. He's playing skins today, although within five minutes his entire torso is covered in mud. A running mess of freckled limbs. Admittedly, he can kick a ball better than some, but Simon's run-and-see-what-happens approach is perhaps one better suited to rugby. 

I watch him closely throughout the game, catching his eye a couple of times when neither of us are near the ball. He raises his eyebrows each time as if trying to threaten me, but there's nothing in it, really. He does get one goal, which I try not to be impressed by. I score five. Snow bashes into me on the way into the showers.

"Fucking ruthless today," he says, breathing heavily. "Didn't feel like going easy in this game?"

I don't say anything while the air is filled with the clatter of twenty boys kicking their studs against the wall.

Once inside, I wait until I reach my peg before replying.

"No room for going easy in the National Champions' League."

He hits me around the head with his sweaty towel and I break into a smile. I desperately want to hit him back. Simon We play chess again tonight, even though it's a Wednesday. I'm actually getting pretty good. Well, relatively-speaking. I still haven't won a game yet, but at least he doesn't have to keep picking me up on what can go where. Tonight, not for the first time, Baz pulls out a bottle of some kind of spirit. The first time he did it, he poured us both a glass without saying anything and they sat there throughout the whole game untouched. Then, once he'd won, we drank them and went to bed. I'm not really sure why. It was only a small amount and it was sort of orangey coloured and sharp, and burned my throat on the way down. Tonight the liquid is clear and I'm pretty sure it's vodka. Alcohol is way out of my depth. All I've drunk before is a couple of ciders with Gareth and Rhys, and a glass of prosecco at Agatha's house last Christmas which I didn't even like. But I'm pretty sure this is vodka, and I have no idea what it's doing here or how Baz procured it. But I let him set out a couple of shot glasses on the edge of our levitating board. I don't say anything. We're playing on my bed tonight. Once everything is set up, Baz says to me, "Every time one of us gets in check, we have to take a shot."

"Then I'm going to end up way more drunk than you."

"So play better."

"You have more experience."

"With chess or drinking?"

"Where did you even get this?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"It's Wednesday."

"Do you want to play or not?" Baz is freshly showered. His hair is hanging in wet strands around his face. He's wearing silk pyjamas and the buttons are done up uncharacteristically sloppily. By that, I mean several remain undone. And he's sitting on my bed and trying to get me to take shots with him over a game of chess. My mind flicks back to him on the pitch; so focused, such precision. I can't imagine him in any state of intoxication. I lean back on my legs and think of meeting his eye across the football field. What was in that look? "Okay," I tell him, "you're on." Because he is intoxicating. Baz Simon does up his game. I can't tell whether it's because of the risk of vodka, or because he's just improving, but the first check doesn't come until eight minutes in, and, remarkably, it's me. I take my drink with no shame, tipping my glass to him before I down it. I don't even flinch. He was right about the experience. I've got three years alone in the catacombs over him. Simon's first check follows shortly, and much less subtly. I pour him a glass. I only give him half. I don't know if he's ever drunk before, other than the odd scotch I've given him in here once or twice, and I don't want to overwhelm him. He takes it from me confidently, and narrows his eyes at me as he puts the glass to his lips. They squint even more as he downs it, and a second later he's grimacing and making a ridiculous noise.

"God, that is disgusting!"

"You get used to it."

"People do this for fun?"

"It's actually largely sugar."

"Bullshit."

"No, sugar."

Then he looks at me like he's surprised I just made a joke. He probably is. I am, a little bit. Then he laughs, and it's a proper laugh, right from the stomach. His freckles all crinkle into each other, and I melt a little bit inside because I did that to him. We play properly for another ten minutes or so. Long enough that Simon is about to take his fourth shot, though I'm still on one. He's already looking pretty gone, and hasn't stop giggling since his third.  

"You take this one for me," he says, holding out his glass.

"Take it for you?" I smile because his cheeks are bright red. "That's not how it works. I got you in check."

He pouts and suddenly I'm on fire because wow.

"Don't you want to help a brother out?"

I laugh at him. "No."

He pouts again and holds out his shot glass. I half fill it again and he drinks it and hisses once more at the taste. "What do you get for check... check, check... check mate, Bazzy?"

He looks proud of himself for finally remembering the word, and fuck it, he just called me Bazzy. I take the bottle from him and take a long swig. Enough for three checks, at least. Simon watches me with big eyes.

"Bazzy," he says, as if only just realising. "Bazzy," and then he laughs. I feel the alcohol getting to my blood, feel myself become gradually less attached, reality slipping more and more by the second, and not in a bad way. "Si-mon." I say slowly. And then we both laugh. And Simon falls over onto his pillow so I fall down next to him but I'm still holding the vodka and Simon takes it from me and puts it on his bedside table. "Okay, enough of that," he says, suddenly sounding much more sober. "I've got another game."

"Is it a drinking game?"

"It's a getting-to-know-you game.

"Okay."

"We have to take it in turns to tell each other things the other doesn't know about us." Except he actually says "turk it in tanes" and only realises halfway through, so the whole sentence takes a while to come out.

"Okay," I agree, "but if the other person does already know, they get to take a shot."

"Okay," he grins. It doesn't take any convincing. "You first."

"I have a sister called Mordelia."

"That could've been two. One: I have a sister. Two: My sister is called Mordelia," he criticises.

"Whatever. Did you know that?"

"No," he says. "Although I think I did once." I look at him quizzically. "Shitty upbringing discussion," he offers, slurring slightly and waving a hand vaguely. "But I forgot it again. My turn. My favourite food is sour cherry scones."

I take a drink.

"How do you know that?"

"I've been sharing a dining hall with you for seven and a half years."

He grumbles and tucks himself into the pillow, pouting a bit more.

"I've never stayed at school for Christmas before this year."

He looks at me like I'm an idiot and pours himself a shot. Yeah, that was a really stupid thing to say. Of course he'd know that. We share a room.

"I didn't break up with Agatha, she broke up with me," he says.

I don't drink. I look at him to see if he's upset. He doesn't look it. He's smiling. "Isn't that great?" He says to me. "All that Chosen One bullshit and I still get dumped." He laughs, but it's almost a giggle.

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly.

"Yes," he answers. "It's sort of a relief, really. I'm still a disaster."

"Okay," I reply. "I've never had a date."

Simon takes another drink. It lasts a while.

"You can't know that," I protest.

He's a bit of a mess by now, and speaks slowly. "Yes. You're a git, Baz. It's obvious." I scowl, but I feel warm inside. Even if Simon called me a git. Even if he knows too much about me. My blood is warm and my cheeks are warm and I'm lying on Simon's bed which is warm and our arms are touching and his arm is warm warm warm. "I like being your friend." Simon says, and it takes me a moment to realise that it's his contribution to the game. I don't know whether the modest option is to drink or not here, but I'm way past caring, so I do, and then he takes it from me and drinks too, even though it's my turn. It's my turn. I face him. We're both on the pillow this time. Our noses are just a centimetre or two from touching. I can smell the vodka in his breath. It's my turn. "I'm gay," I tell him. I wait for him to take the bottle. I wait for him to get up and walk away. I wait for any kind of response. He just looks at me. Just my face, scans it quickly and then locks on my eyes. He quirks the corner of his mouth up into a smile. "Oh Bazzy," he breathes softly. "I know." 27th February, Simon The first time I wake up, I'm laying on top of my duvet and Baz is curled up next to me. He's facing me on my pillow. My mind feels distant and sort of not real, and all I want to do is hug him and laugh about it. But he's sleeping, so I don't. Instead, I tuck us both under the duvet and giggle quietly to myself. The second time I wake up, light is shining through the curtains and Baz is still in my bed. This time my arm was definitely across his chest, and our noses were almost definitely touching. But I don't have time to think about it, because I am about to be sick and I'm stumbling across the room to the toilet before I've even properly woken up. I must wake Baz on my way, because no sooner am I retching than he is crouched beside me at the toilet bowl rubbing his hand up and down my back. I lean into it slightly in between heaves. He hands me a damp cloth to wipe my mouth with, and then stands up. I want to pull him back down but I don't have the energy. I clutch the toilet bowl again and concentrate on not curling up, but just a moment later Baz is back. He's holding a glass of water and softly fingering the hair at the nape of my neck. It's soft and untouched and I keen into him, not thinking about anything at all. His voice brings me round. "Simon."

I blink slowly up at him.

"Simon, drink the water. We can clean you up in the morning but if you want to feel any better than this when you wake up, drink the water." I do, and he fills it up again. When he does so a third time I shake my head, but he holds it to my mouth until I drink it. I feel like he is a puppeteer and I am his puppet. I am malleable at his touch, at his disposal. After I finish, he drinks a glass himself. "Need a wee?"

I nod. I don't even wait for him to leave, but he turns around politely. When I've finished, he turns back. "Can you make it back to bed?"

I nod again, but don't move. He takes my arm and gently steers me in the right direction. I curl up onto it and hug the pillow, groaning quietly. "Do you need me to stay?" Baz asks, so quietly I almost miss it. I say nothing, but I look up and my eyes must be carrying their own message because he immediately tucks himself in quietly beside me. I fall asleep to him rubbing my back. The third time I wake up, Baz is gone. The clock reads 10:34am, and there is a sick bowl on the floor. On the desk is an empty bottle of Vodka. My head pounds, and I groan and roll over. On the bedside table is a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol. Baz's bed is made. 9th March, Simon "Si, can you grab me one too?" Penny calls. I'm heading up to the serving hatch in the dining hall to pick up some more scones. It's Sunday afternoon and we're in the middle of Watford's traditional afternoon tea, but we've already run out of scones. I return with a whole plate to add to our sandwich tier, and Penny grabs two before I can put it down. She holds one out to Agatha who shrugs and continues picking at the one already in front of her, so Pen keeps it. "So you and Baz still going strong then?" She asks through a mouthful.

"Going strong?"

"Going well," Agatha sighs, as if I'm being overly picky.

"Yeah, I guess," I reply vaguely.

"You spend a lot of time together."

"Do we?"

"Yes," Agatha answers. I finish buttering my scone and take a large bite. It takes a while to chew. "So?" I say eventually. "He's not that bad. Actually pretty funny, really."

"Well, I'm beginning to feel like a second choice!" Penny says indignantly.

I blink. Second choice? Why shouldn't I be spending some time with a new friend? Is she jealous? "It's actually nice to be spending some time with another guy for once." And I don't mean it to sound that bad, but as soon as it's out my mouth I regret it. Agatha looks totally pissed off and I don't blame her. I swallow, and wish it were possible to swallow what I just said. Penny is silent for a moment. But Penny is my oldest friend here, and she really understands me. "Okay," she says. "I get that." It sounds legitimate but she won't catch my eye. I grab her hand.

"Pen, I didn't mean it to come out like that. I'm not fed up of you. You know that. Well... I hope you know that, because I'm not. I just... me and Baz have spent nearly eight years hating each other when all this time I could have had a built-in best friend. No, not best friend-" I trail off, but Penny waves her hand.

"It's okay, Simon, we understand." I think she's speaking for her and Agatha, but Agatha doesn't look like she totally agrees. Penny carries on regardless. "You've got lots of catching up to do."

She smiles, and Agatha rolls her eyes but sort of smiles too. "I don't get you, Simon. You're weird as anything," she adds, but it sounds kind of affectionate.

Penelope's face goes deadly serious all of a sudden. "As long as you don't ditch us." It sounds like a real threat.

"Ditch you?!" I laugh. "He's a vampire, Pen. I can't afford to do that."

Baz I catch Simon on the way out of afternoon tea. He's sitting where he normally does, with Agatha and Penelope. He doesn't clap me on the back with a "Basiltonnnnn," or nod his head with a little salute, or any of the usual boyish greetings I could expect to receive when I see him around school. Instead he sort of looks at the table. I lean in a little. "Wanna head outside for chess?" I don't know what makes me say it. We haven't played chess since the night I got him drunk. We haven't actually spoken about it. I don't know if he even remembers it. He did have the whole of Thursday off school. "Outside?" He says. I look out the window. It looks cold (it is only March) but it's not raining, and there's a nice afternoon Spring sun. I shrug. Simon looks over to Penny. She rolls her eyes, and then Agatha leans over her and pushes him towards me. Simon raises his eyebrows, mouths a silent "Okay!" and follows me outside. Once we're alone, he's back to normal, jabbering about something or other he'd been going on about this morning. I nod along and watch the way the sun turns his curls golden. After a while, I stop walking. We're on the outskirts of the woods, out of view of the school, and there's a crumbling dry stone wall covered on one side in spongy green moss.

"This good?"

Simon nods. I sit down on an old stile, and Simon takes the dip in the wall. Then he cocks his head. "Where's the chessboard?"

"I.... didn't bring one."

He narrows his eyes as if he's thinking about something.

"I was going to," I tell him truthfully. "If you wanted to play, I was going to run upstairs and get it. But then... I..."

"...didn't." He finishes for me, and laughs.

"Yeah," I laugh, too. "Basically."

"Okay," Simon says and laughs again. "Okay." We're quiet for a few minutes. I don't know what to say to him. Eventually, I speak. It's not elegant, or thought out. It's not even what I came here to do, though it probably looks that way from Simon's perspective.  "I'm sorry about last time."

He cocks his head again and it looks like a lost puppy. He squints slightly through the sun. For a while, I don't even think he's going to reply.

"Why are you sorry?"

"You were sick." That's not why I'm sorry. I am sorry that happened, but it's not why I'm sorry. I want to tell him I'm sorry for thinking anything could come of it. I'm sorry for trying to get him drunk so he'd lose all his inhibitions. Even if that's not what I was trying to do.

"Yeah," he tells me. "I was."

"Sorry," I say again, and look up at him.

"It's okay. It happens to the best of us," and he gives me a fucking cheeky smile.

I stretch my leg out and kick his foot. "That's a shit way to say sorry."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He looks up at me again and in the light of the setting sun his whole face is a burning gold.  "Maybe you should stop trying to apologise." I watch his lips. "If you're so bad..."

He licks them, like he doesn't know what to say next, what to do. I know what I want to do next. I want to push him off that wall into the field behind, I want to pin him to the ground with my knees and sit on his chest. And then I want to kiss him until the sun has set and risen and set again. Simon shivers slightly, and I realise he's not wearing a coat. I take mine off and hold it out to him, but he shakes his head.

"Want to head back?" I ask.

He pulls his lips in tight. "Not really?" He says it tentatively, like a question. "But... I suppose we should."

"Yeah." I say, not moving.

"Yeah," he echoes, and catches my eye. "Yeah." 27th March, Baz Simon and I have played chess every night this week. The Easter holidays start after school tomorrow, and so I think, without actually having discussed it, we're both trying to cram as much in as possible before our two weeks without seeing each other. I've also spent most of my week trying to come up with a way of getting Simon's phone number without scaring him off. (I mean, we're not allowed phones at Watford but he must have one. This is the twenty first century). I just don't want to reach fifth period tomorrow and depart with an empty "keep in touch, yeah?" that signifies the exact opposite. And I know it's only two weeks, but still, that's two weeks. "Check," Simon says, breaking my thought process. Our games have been pretty silent recently. Maybe it's concentration. Simon has improved massively since February. I frown at the board and take my turn. Another nine minutes of silence, broken eventually by my own, "Check." The game is over a few minutes later. I win. I put the board away. That's it. Our last chess game for two weeks. Simon says nothing. "'S'up, Snow?" He sighs, and stares at the ceiling from his bed. Then he shakes his head slowly. I let it slide and try not to think that it's my fault (because it probably isn't) while I get ready for bed. Once the lights are off, I hear Simon roll over. "You know ages ago when you said you felt uneasy?"

"After I got back from football and you asked me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," I nod, and it rustles on my pillow.

"Yeah."

"Yeah what?" I ask him.

"I don't know." There's a pause. "You said you feel like you're not being you."

"No," I say, but in a way that suggests I'm agreeing with him.

"Well, how do you know who 'you' is?" And I think it's rhetorical, but I reply anyway.

"I think you just have to try stuff out and see." So what's your phone number? I don't add. But the he asks me. "Do you have a phone, Baz?" And I'm so taken aback I don't answer him, and he says my name again. "Yes," I say. "And yes." "Gimme your number in the morning, yeah?" "Yeah," I say. "Okay." Okay. Once I hear his breathing settling, I head out to the catacombs to feed. Empty handed. It's been ages since I last took a bottle with me. When I return though, Simon is tossing and turning in his sheets and mumbling to himself. I stay as quiet as possible so as not to wake him, although once I'm in bed I'm almost tempted to rouse him on purpose. He's writhing around not as if he's in pain, but sort of hurt and confused, and keeps sighing heavily. "'M a bastard," he mumbles through sleep-heavy lips, and thumps his pillow semi-aggressively. I want to run over to him and tuck his little fists away where they won't do any harm. I want to stroke his hair until he sleeps soundly. I want to climb into his bed and tell him that he's not a bastard, he's perfect. But I don't. Instead, I get out of bed and open the window.

[sarahw-world]

My first fanfic: “A Dark Heart“

Chapter 22: A Ghost From The Past

Summary: Bulma and Vegeta get ready to land on a new, mysterious planet, where Vegeta will face an old enemy with unexpected consequences...

Notes:          

Sooo, I'm back!

I'm sorry for taking this long with this update, but I've had my University exams and I've been really busy.

Also, this chapter is, again, one of the longest I've written so far in this fanfic and there's a LOT going on, so I hope the wait was worth it.

Hopefully, I'll soon be able to go back to writing and updating more often.

A little warning: There are some unpleasant themes discussed in this chapter, nothing too major, but I just wanted to give you a little heads-up.

I hope you enjoy it!

Vegeta run his amused eyes across the wide selection of clothing his mate had placed all over their large bed and he smirked, shaking his head at the same time, finding the whole situation completely ridiculous.

Who the Hell would pack such revealing garments when preparing for a dangerous trip into Space?

Only his shameless, vulgar woman would do such a thing and, ironically, her collection of sexy dresses and underwear had turned out to come in handy as they began the process of getting ready for landing on Planet Virggo.

“This one,” he said, grasping a minuscule dress that looked more like a black scrap of cloth rather than actual female clothing. “With this,” he continued, choosing a very skimpy black silk thong.

“These?” Bulma asked in shock, holding both items shyly in her hands, dumbfounded and embarrassed at once at the sight of the extremely raunchy pieces her mate had selected for her.

Vegeta nodded affirmatively.

“Are you sure?” She enquired again, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“Yes, woman,” he replied, a hint of exasperation and mirth in his voice.

“You can’t be serious…”

The Saiyan crossed his arms, finding the whole scenario absolutely hilarious, and he stood right in front of her.

“What’s the matter, Bulma? I thought we agreed that you’d follow my instructions at all times during our stay in Virggo.”

Bulma sighed in defeat, clutching the tiny garments in one hand and closing the collar of her white bathrobe self-consciously with the other.

“I know I did, but…”

“But, what?” He asked authoritatively.

“Nevermind…” She said, exhaling through her nose and turning around towards one of the cabins. “I’ll go get dressed…”

“Don’t take too long, woman. We’ll be landing in less than four hours and you must be ready by then.”

“Yeah, yeah…” She mumbled dismissively, entering one of the small rooms, placing the clothes on a chair and sitting on the bed dejectedly.

Unbelievable…

She still couldn’t believe she was about to do what Vegeta was asking of her but, after all, she had no right to complain now, right? Wasn’t she the one who’d practically begged him to take her with him on this trip? She knew, deep down, that Vegeta would never hurt her or allow anyone else to harm her either, and his little plan was all for the sake of her safety. Still, she couldn’t help but find these circumstances utterly humiliating and completely against her nature.

Bulma took a deep breath and stood from the bed, looking at herself in the mirror placed on one of the doors of the narrow closet. She was freshly showered, and all that was left now was for her to do her hair, makeup and get dressed, so she grabbed a hairdryer and she switched it on, getting to work on getting ready for Vegeta.

‘It’s just for a few hours,’ she kept reminding herself.

Just a few hours pretending to be something she wasn’t while Vegeta took care of whoever it was he was about to kill, and then he’d promised her a week, one whole week, just the two of them alone in some mysterious, isolated location he’d assured her, repeatedly, she’d really enjoy.

“Alright, Bulma Briefs, let’s see what you’re made of…” She whispered as she reluctantly started the process of doing her hair…

A bit more than an hour later, it had become quite clear that being Bulma Briefs wasn’t so great these days, especially when Vegeta knocked at the door and, not getting a reply, finally entered the cabin, finding her sitting nervously on the bed, her hair and makeup immaculately done but still clad only in her white fluffy robe.

“Woman, what the…?”

He stopped dead in his tracks just as he was about to chastise her, one look at the woman telling him something was seriously wrong with her. She raised her eyes, full of fear and something else he couldn’t fully grasp. Her appalling expression made him immediately soften up his tone of voice.

“Bulma, what’s the matter? Why aren’t you ready?” He asked, making the enormous effort to hide his impatience and apprehension so as to not make her feel even more stressed out.

“I… I can’t do this, Vegeta…” She replied in a trembling whisper, almost sobbing pitifully. “I can’t… I just can’t…”  

Vegeta felt his chest constrict at the poignant sound of her voice, and he took a few steps forward, standing right in front of her and kindly offering her his hand.

“Come here, woman,” he commanded softly, holding her hand and making her stand up, pressing her body against his. His large hands carefully cupped her face, his thumbs lightly grazing the delicate skin of her cheeks. “Let me take a look at you…” He whispered, his warm breath caressing her lips as he inspected her work.

Bulma looked absolutely breathtaking.

Her usually straight hair had been subtly curled into soft, lustrous waves, and her skin was radiant. Her makeup was light, as always, designed to enhance her perfect features instead of hiding them behind a heavy mask. Her longer eyelashes framed those expressive blue eyes and her glowing skin was perfectly complemented by succulent, glossy nude lips.

She looked flawless.

“Not bad…” Vegeta mumbled, immediately feeling his body respond to the dangerous combination of her proximity and her beauty. He kept caressing her skin, his eyes hypnotized by her immaculate visage. “What’s the matter, Bulma?” He gently asked again.

“Vegeta…” Bulma whispered. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this…”        

“Are you afraid, woman?” He said in a voice so low she would have had trouble hearing it if she hadn’t been so close to him.

Bulma remained immobile, her mind was such a mess of nervousness, confusion and unanswered questions that she needed a minute to collect her thoughts, and the unresolved tension hanging heavily between them wasn’t helping her clear her mind either.

It’d been three days ever since he’d apologized and kissed her after their last argument, and things had only been getting better from that moment on. The instant he’d finally locked his lips with hers, giving in to their desire, had felt like a real breakthrough, and during the next few days they’d spent most of the time together, sharing small, intimate moments inside their cold space ship.

Vegeta still refused to have sexual relations with her, but he was gradually opening up, lying behind her as they watched movies on the television, gently caressing her hair and kissing her tenderly. At times, when she fell asleep on the couch, she’d wake up between his arms, either on the sofa or in bed, and he’d hold her firmly, almost possessively against his strong body. He barely talked, but the way he looked at her made her feel loved and desired in ways she’d never experienced before. It was almost as if his barriers were falling down, and the side of him that had always stubbornly and desperately attempted to keep her at a safe distance was slowly giving way to a new, more honest, almost vulnerable part of him. A side of Vegeta she’d barely had access to in the past, and she didn’t quite know what to do about it, afraid of being too bold or aggressive and scare him away. And yet, despite the deep gratitude she felt about these new developments in their relationship, she had to confess, she wanted more. She’d finally admitted to herself that she loved this man, and she knew that, if Vegeta didn’t eventually love her back just as much as she did him, her heart would be shattered, broken into a million pieces.

“I’m not… I’m not afraid, Vegeta. It’s just that I…”

“You, what?” He prodded gently, his hands never ceasing his excruciatingly loving ministrations.

“That planet… I have… I have never been to a place like that, I guess I… I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all…”   

The Prince frowned, deep down unsurprised by the woman’s reaction. There was a good reason why he’d waited until the last minute to tell Bulma the planet they were about to visit was, in fact, a pleasure planet. A kind of planet male warriors often visited in search of some erotic performances, mostly in the form of harmless exotic dancing, but he knew some of the planet’s females would also perform other types of ‘services’ for the right amount of money.

Vegeta had visited Planet Virggo a handful of times in his youth, always encouraged by Nappa and Raditz, and while both warriors indulged in their depraved tastes, he’d just disappear, flying away from the large cities and spending long periods of time by himself in the wilderness. On two occasions, he lied to them, telling them he’d bedded a female here and there, but it was only so the bigger Saiyans would cease their teasing and leave him alone. Of course, he’d never slept with the type of women that inhabited the planet, much preferring to take care of his sexual needs with regular women he met on some of the worlds he’d visited through the years.

“I see…” He muttered, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her soft form against his robust one, inwardly cursing himself for his weakness when it came to his mate. A gentle, pure woman like Bulma didn’t belong in the place he was about to take her to. He kept telling himself she’d been the one asking, virtually imploring for it, and he knew leaving her on Planet Z365 wouldn’t have been an option either, and yet, he felt conflicted, almost tempted to just change the course of their ship and take her somewhere else. But he couldn’t do that, not now, not when he was so close to killing one of the few ghosts from the past that still haunted him.

One of his arms remained immovable on her waist, keeping her beautiful body close to him while he languidly run his other hand, up and down across her back in a slow motion, in an effort to relax her, to soothe her agitated nerves before they reached their destination. And the little trick must have worked, since he gradually felt her breathing slow down as she responded to his touch, also encircling his strong waist with her frail arms and pressing her cheek against his chest. For a moment, he wished he hadn’t been already wearing his armor, the new armor his woman had made for him, so he could better feel her embrace, but he figured it was for the best. He was a warrior, after all: a warrior that was about to face an old enemy just mere hours from now. It wouldn’t do for him to deal with one of his childhood demons with an unclear mind.

“Don’t be afraid, woman,” he murmured, subtly kissing the top of her head as he buried his nose in her shiny, feathery, turquoise locks.

His words made Bulma raise her head slowly, finally looking him in the eye once again.

“I’m not afraid, Vegeta,” she honestly responded. “You are one of the strongest men alive, aren’t you?”         

He immediately replied, in the most confident tone he could summon. She kept looking at him with those large, supplicant blue eyes, begging him to bring her a confidence she was clearly lacking in that moment.

“That, I am, Bulma. Is that what you fear, woman?” He enquired again, secretly offended by the implication of Bulma not trusting his strength or his ability to keep her safe at all times. “I promise you have nothing to fear. Not by my side,” he vowed, the arm encircling her tiny waist pressing her protectively against him. He’d never allow anyone to hurt this woman, even if he had to give his life to ensure her protection. He’d truly experienced the loss of a loved one, something he hadn’t really gone through since his childhood, when he saw his son from the future die by the hand of Cell, and the thought of ever seeing Bulma suffer under similar circumstances drove him absolutely mad with fury.

The small woman nodded in agreement, never letting go of her man either.

“I know, Vegeta. I know… I just…”

“Then, what is it, woman?”

Bulma took a deep breath, deeply ashamed of what she was about to discuss with her Prince; a woman as cocky and self-assured as she normally was, had a hard time dealing with her relatively new insecurities.

“Do I really have to wear that dress?” She whispered shakily, like a little girl reticently refusing to follow the rules.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Gods, Vegeta… Seriously? It’s so damn small! I just, I don’t feel comfortable wearing it, that’s all…”

“And yet you brought it with you. Why?”

Bulma shrugged, timidly avoiding his penetrating gaze.

“I don’t know… I just grabbed a bunch of clothes from my closet while I was packing. I guess I didn’t even check out everything I encapsulated.”

She was lying, of course. She knew damn well why she’d brought a wide selection of raunchy clothes and underwear. It’d been in case she found herself exactly in the position she was in right now, alone inside an enclosed space with her Prince. After all, a woman never knew when she might need a little help to seduce a man, who had technically abandoned her, all over again. Still, those sexy items were meant just for him and him alone to enjoy, and certainly not to be worn out and about in public, especially on some foreign planet full of horny warriors and beautiful, exotic females that sold their bodies to the highest bidder.

“Still,” Vegeta retorted. “It is your dress, woman. Is it not?”

“Yeah…”

“So, why own a dress you do not want to wear anyway?” He asked with honest curiosity.

Women were still such an enigma to him…

Bulma felt her discomfiture and frustration grow by the second. Was it really that hard for him to comprehend why she’d feel uncomfortable wearing such a thing in public? Did she have to spell out everything for him?

“It’s an old dress, Vegeta. I haven’t worn it since I was a teenager, when I used to go out clubbing…”

The Prince shook his head, still not understanding where she was going with this.

“So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so’? So, I hadn’t just had a baby back then! And I didn’t have to wear it on a planet full of women that are… You know…”

“Women that are what, Bulma?” He prodded once more, finally guessing where his mate’s fears were originating from.

“Well… Those women… If, if those guys pay to see them dance and… You know… All that other stuff… They must be really pretty, right? I just…” She shrugged shyly again, not even recognizing herself.

‘Had she really changed that much?’

Motherhood and all the madness she’d been going through ever since Vegeta had left her had really made a number on her confidence, hadn’t they? The woman she was today was a far cry from the carefree, cock-sure teenage girl that used to take the world by storm with Yamcha and his baseball buddies back in the day. And it wasn’t that she missed those frivolous times at all but, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to herself that she wished she’d get some of that legendary cockiness back once again.

Vegeta tilted his head to the side slightly.

So, that’s what it was…

His woman was feeling insecure because she had birthed his heir just mere months ago.

He knew he’d have to choose his words wisely if he wanted to make Bulma feel better about herself. He kept clutching her greedily against him, his hands lazily exploring her body through the fluffy fabric of her white robe as he felt her soft, curvy form in his hands.

She felt as perfect as she’d always been.

True, he hadn’t made love to her ever since she’d had Trunks, but he’d seen her in her underwear just a few days earlier and she’d looked so damn delicious his body had even reacted to her beauty against his will, much to his shame. His eyes just kept staring at her, and all he could think of was that she’d never looked lovelier. When he’d first seen her on Planet Z365, she’d looked a tad too thin and gaunt, which had certainly concerned him at the time but, during these past few days, he’d made sure she ate regularly and she’d put on some much needed weight, filling in her curvy petite frame perfectly and finally going back to her old self. 

“Bulma, look at me,” Vegeta commanded in a low but firm voice, letting go of her body but holding her radiant face in his hands one more time. “I am a Prince,” he simply declared, as if that explained everything.

Bulma just held his gaze, confused about his brief statement.

Of course, he was a Prince! He’d reminded her that just about a million times before, but this time such a declaration seemed to hold some hidden meaning behind it that she couldn’t grasp. All she knew was that the tenderness he’d been displaying towards her these past few days and in that very moment, with his rough fingertips delicately cupping her cheeks, where making her giddy with excitement, almost making her forget her own uneasiness about her physique.    

“Yes, I know…” She finally replied in a vague attempt to get him to finally make his point.

Vegeta kept staring at her with solemn eyes, making her quickly realize he was dead serious about the thoughts he was sharing with her.  

“Then you must already know that a Prince only surrounds himself with the best of everything.”

Bulma blinked slowly, frowning in confusion as she tried to put two and two together.

And then it hit her…

‘Was he talking about…?’

He placed the lightest kiss on her soft, glossy lips, making her briefly close her eyes and inhale sharply. When he finally separated his mouth from hers, she was practically melting by his touch, looking at him in bewilderment and curiosity as she struggled to keep her knees from shaking. Only Vegeta’s touch had such a powerful effect on her, and every time they shared a moment of intimacy, no matter how innocent or insignificant it may seem, she could only wish it’d last forever.

“Tell me, Bulma… How many women have I chosen to bring with me on this ship?”

There was brief silence, an intense stillness full of honesty and unspoken feelings.

“Vegeta…” Bulma whispered, frowning pitifully and feeling her eyes burning, about to shed tears of love and relief.

Gods…

‘The best…’

He’d just called her the best woman…

“Vegeta, I…” She said again, but the Prince cut her off, unconsciously running his tongue across his lips and placing a stubborn finger on hers, shushing her gently. He had to get out of the room; if the woman started crying or getting too sentimental he didn’t know what he’d do. The more time he spent with his little mate, the more fond of her he seemed to grow and, the worst part was that, even though he’d already experienced such emotions with Bulma in the past, lately he’d found himself unwilling to leave and push her away as he’d previously done. If anything, a part of him was beginning to enjoy her unashamed demonstrations of love and affection towards him.

She made him feel good, as if he were the best man in the world, and given his history, he knew such a thing was objectively impossible, but then again, he knew the woman was smart.

What if she was able to see something in him he wasn’t able to see on his own?

“No more tears, woman…” He gently scolded her, delicately running the back of his hand across her glowing skin on last time. “Now get dressed and look your best. Have no fear, Bulma.”

Bulma remained silent for a moment, trying to assimilate his words. It was unlike Vegeta to flatter or compliment her in excess, except perhaps, during their lovemaking in the past, when sometimes soft words of encouragement unwittingly escaped his lips in the middle of the night.

She smiled lovingly at him, getting her emotions in check but still refusing to let go of him. He looked so attractive wearing his brand-new armor and exuding such great confidence that, even though she was afraid for him, fearing that this mysterious enemy he was about to face would end up hurting him, deep down she believed everything would be all right in the end. There was something in his strong, comforting presence that felt like a warm blanket enveloping and soothing her, keeping her safe from harm.  

“Okay,” Bulma finally whispered, promptly placing a quick peck on his cheek before releasing his waist, taking a couple of steps back. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes…”

Vegeta smirked, pleased to see his words had been enough to instill his woman some of her confidence back. He was painfully aware of his poor command of language outside of anything related to fighting and battle, and even though he was proud of being Saiyan and of his warrior status, at times he wished he were able to better express his thoughts and emotions to Bulma, knowing just how much his silence or poor choice of words had hurt her in the past.

He nodded in acquiescence and left the room, giving the woman some privacy while he went to the central console of the ship to check on the navigation system for final confirmation that everything was in order. He had to give it to Bulma, the new model she’d designed by far out bested her last ship, and this one run even more smoothly than the previous one.

Just as he was going through the details of his target one final time to make sure he left nothing to chance, he heard the unmistakable sounds of Bulma’s steps entering the room. When he turned around, he had to make an extraordinary effort not to let his jaw open wide in shock.

She looked positively incredible, perhaps too incredible...

Then again, that was the point, wasn’t it?

Bulma was standing a few steps away from him, and her face, which had first had still featured a tinge of insecurity, was now adorned by a devastating smile, the smile of a woman whose mate’s eyes had just told her she still had ‘it’.

“How do I look?” Bulma purred in a seductive voice coated with false naivete.

The Prince clutched the tablet he was holding in his hands a little tighter and he swallowed heavily. He could feel his entire body screaming in desire for this woman, wanting nothing more than to grab her and have his way with her repeatedly on the floor of the gravity room.

“You look…”

“Yes?”

“You look decent, woman,” he finally declared with difficulty.

Bulma pouted like a little girl. “That’s it? Just ‘decent’?”

Her damned adorable expression made his cheeks flush crimson, and he took his eyes away from her, pretending to be paying attention to the small device in his hands in a futile attempt to stop looking at the delightful curves that looked as if they were about to burst from her little black dress.

She walked towards him, standing by his side and placing her hand on his shoulder, playfully taking a peek at the small screen Vegeta wasn’t actually looking at.

The blasted woman smelled so good he could barely control himself by now, so he tried to find a way to distract her and keep a distance between them. Even though these past few days they’d finally given in to each other in many ways, there was still that final, unseen line he didn’t know if he should cross. He couldn’t imagine what the consequences would be for their relationship if he finally took her and made love to her with everything he had…

“I thought you weren’t going to interfere in my plans…” He implied firmly, still avoiding her gaze, almost dizzy by her sweet scent as he kept showing feigned interest on the contents displayed on the small tablet.

“Uh? What do you mean?”

“You’re being nosy, woman…”

“Ah! Not really,” she replied, finally understanding what he was referring to. “I’m not trying to read your information, Vegeta. I can’t even understand that language… No… I was just wondering…”

Vegeta turned his head to the side, finally daring to set his eyes on her once again.

“Then what is it?”

“I was just wondering if you’d let me take a look at your tablet sometime. You know, when you’re done with your… With your mission…” She answered timidly, feeling as affected by Vegeta’s near presence as he was in that moment.

He looked so sexy wearing the new armor she’d specifically designed for him during his absence, and his dark, flaring eyes were inspecting her closely, making her body warm up as if she was wearing a dress made out of fire. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and she desperately wondered what it would take for him to finally stop being so horribly obstinate and take that final step before she went absolutely crazy.

“We’ll see…” Vegeta awkwardly responded, unsurprised by the little genius’ interest in any kind of foreign technology. “Are you ready?”

Bulma nodded, her eyes wide open and never leaving his. Even though she could perceive a change in his attitude towards her, no doubt the result of him being in the process of mentally preparing himself to ‘go into battle’, she allowed herself one final moment of intimacy by slowly, very slowly, stroking his bronzed cheek affectionately. Her gentle touch made Vegeta’s eyelids very heavy all of a sudden, and he blinked lazily a few times, entranced by her light touch.

“Vegeta,” Bulma whispered with bated breath. “I know I promised I wouldn’t ask you about this… This man... But, I just…” She released a trembling sigh. “You are stronger than him, right?”

“I am,” he replied softly but confidently.

“Are you…? Are you absolutely sure?”

The Saiyan stared at her, deep in thought. For some reason, he would have found Bulma’s doubts almost offensive in the past but, now, he knew she simply cared about him, and he felt secretly grateful for her concerns. Thankful that someone, especially this extraordinary woman, was worried about his safety.

Before he had time to regret his actions, he impulsively held her fragile body and crushed it tightly against him, forcing a sweet gasp out of Bulma’s lips as she panted nervously against his neck. Vegeta languidly kissed her temple several times, basking in the pleasure of his little mate’s presence by his side before they landed on Planet Virggo.

Before he had to shield himself from his own emotions towards her, for a few hours at least…

He was actually looking forward, not only to finally getting rid of a very significant ghost from his tumultuous past, but also to the entire week he’d promised Bulma he’d dedicate entirely to her. The thought of wholly devoting his time and energy to his woman was both terrifying and exciting for, if he was brutally honest with himself, he’d never done such a thing before, always being the kind of man who’d put his own needs and interests before anyone else’s.

Even Bulma’s, much to his shame…

He knew he hadn’t treated her the way she deserved, and he’d already made the decision that he’d give her his all when he finalized his business and made peace with that part of his past. Whatever love was left within his heart, he was going to give it to her, at least for the next few days.   

“Bulma,” he mumbled against her skin, nuzzling her silky, wavy hair; the way his warm breath caressed her made Bulma shiver in delight and anticipation. “I’ve been stronger than that bastard since I was ten years of age.”

Bulma looked at him one final time, her eyes filled with a thousand questions about how was it possible for Vegeta’s old enemy to still be alive if the Prince had been stronger than him from such a young age. For an instant, she mediated on whether or not she should ask him any more questions, but she finally chose to remain silent, not wanting to intrude on things her mate possibly wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing with her. After all, she’d made him a promise to respect his choices without any interference from her part. Up to this point, Vegeta’s actions had all made sense, and she had no reason whatsoever to think otherwise in this occasion.

“Okay,” she finally replied with a comforting, trusting smile on her lips, trying to show her man her full support and understanding. “I trust you.”

Vegeta gave her slender body one final affectionate squeeze before letting go of her.

“Good,” he said with aplomb. “Have no fear, Bulma. Just follow my instructions and everything will be all right.” He turned around, taking a seat on the pilot’s chair and inviting her to do the same by his side, on the co-pilot’s. “Fasten your safety belt, woman, we’ll be landing in a few minutes”.

Bulma followed his orders without hesitation, quietly sitting beside him. The warrior, surprised by her uncommon docility gave her a side glance, only to find her deep in thought. He could tell she was anxious, but true to her word, she’d been extremely respectful towards him at all times, never questioning the mission or his commands.

On her part, the heiress kept mentally going over and over again through Vegeta’s plan, which was, in truth, fairly simple. She was about to play the part of his bed slave, which was the reason why she had to wear such scanty clothing, so it wouldn’t look as if she meant much to her ‘Master’, certainly not enough to want to cover her up to stop other men from looking at her. She’d been advised to avoid eye contact at all times, never start a conversation and only speak when spoken to.

Vegeta’s mysterious ‘target’ was, apparently, co-owner of one of those places which were the equivalent of Earth’s strip-clubs, and he had a contact there he trusted and who’d watch over her while Vegeta dealt with what Bulma assumed was an old enemy. She had no idea why her mate would trust someone enough to leave her alone with them for an indeterminate amount of time, but as usual, she concluded that he’d had good reasons to do so and chose not to question his choices.

Bulma propped her head back on the headrest, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to calm down, reminding herself to be brave and focusing on the thought of the week together Vegeta had committed to. Every now and then, she’d glimpse at her mate, who was now putting his white gloves on and keeping his eyes on the screen. The record amount of time in which he’d learnt how to pilot her new ship reminded her, as always, of how intelligent the Saiyan Prince really was. Indeed, Vegeta’s skills went way beyond his natural ability for battling in combat.

They finally landed, surprisingly smoothly, on what Bulma quickly learned, as she peeked through one of the vehicle’s windows, was some kind of harbor where a handful of other space ships were parked still on a straight line.

Bulma did a double check inside her small silver clutch, making sure she was carrying her share of capsules with her. They’d both decided to split them, carrying half of them each, and Vegeta would also encapsulate and safely keep the ship with him just in case anything went wrong. The woman had also placed a small button inside Vegeta’s armor, and she had one herself on her flimsy dress, camouflaged under the appearance of a tiny ornamental brooch, so she could signal him in case she found herself in danger.

After verifying that everything was in order, Bulma finally stood from her chair, finding Vegeta standing by the closed door already, waiting patiently for her. She re-arranged her tiny black dress, making sure everything was in place and she joined him, sharing a quick glance with him and holding the arm he was chivalrously offering.

“Remember, Bulma, never walk in front of me and do not show defiance of any kind,” he reminded her softly, his gloved hands caressing the delicate fingers of the hand she was holding him with one final time.

Bulma squeezed his arm comfortingly, offering him a confident, optimistic smile.

“Understood,” she simply replied.

Vegeta opened the gate, walking slowly, ever mindful of the woman’s shoes, a pair of sparkly high heels that made her legs look spectacular, and after they finally reached the ground, he encapsulated the ship, putting it inside his armor and ignoring the snooping stares a few of the warriors gave the newly-arrived couple.     

They walked through noisy, crowded streets, packed with fighters of all races and sizes. The big city was full of strange vehicles and a wide variety of neon lights, advertising their ‘attractions’ in the form of large billboards featuring female-shaped figures and what Bulma assumed were words written in a foreign language she couldn’t understand.

It was quite a surreal scene, and the only thing keeping her grounded was Vegeta’s steady presence by her side who, wearing a fierce scowl on his face, kept her hand firmly pressed between his folded arm, silently reassuring her and making her feel free from harm despite the alien madness surrounding her. The beautiful woman caught quite a few lecherous glances from a large number of males, and yet, the moment those males took one look at her terrifying ‘Master’, they immediately looked away in fear. Whether all of those people knew who Vegeta actually was, she didn’t know, all she knew was that, by the time they reached their last stop, she’d never felt safer in her entire life than by her mate’s side.

A really short man in a purple suit looked the couple up and down with palpable disinterest.

“Is she up for sale?” He finally asked Vegeta, completely ignoring Bulma as if she were a doll with no voice of her own. Being regarded as an object didn’t sit well with Bulma, who was now inwardly fuming, forcibly biting her tongue in an effort not to mess up her mate’s plans, and the almost imperceptible growl that made Vegeta’s body vibrate at the implication of selling his woman, told her the Saiyan wasn’t very happy about the green dwarf’s attitude towards her either.

“I wish to speak to Teekoh,” Vegeta finally declared, his whole body already tense and ready to attack the perverted idiot at any minute if he gave him any trouble.

“Tsk! He’s busy right now…”  

Vegeta inhaled deeply through his nose, clutching Bulma’s hand even closer, before replying in the most neutral voice he could produce.

“Call him.”

The short man rolled his eyes at the Saiyan’s insistence. “What do you want, anyway?”

That was it.

He was done with this shit.

He had to get inside and stop all those filthy imbeciles in the streets from looking at his woman, right fucking now.

Vegeta slowly lifted the index finger of his free hand and threateningly pointed it right between the eyes of the miniature idiot.

“Ask me about my business again and see what happens,” he muttered, a malicious smirk spreading across his lips.

“Wha…?”

A small ki ball sparked out of the Prince’s finger, making the short man’s eyes widen in sheer panic.

“Take me to Teekoh. Now.”

“Uh… Uh… Sure! Sure, man! No problem! F-Follow m-me!” The dwarf stuttered, his skin gradually turning from his natural green to a sickly yellowish tone.

He turned around, not even looking back to see if the mysterious couple was following him, walking at the quickest pace his short legs allowed him to. He stopped at one of the bars, offering them a sit as he walked into the kitchens, going in search of the man the visitors were looking for. Vegeta waited with Bulma in one of the corners, with both their backs facing the wall, and he stood protectively but casually in front of her.

The green man returned right away. “P-Please follow me… This way…”

He guided them through the jam-packed club in the direction of a more secluded space in the V.I.P. area.

“Teekoh will be with you in a m-minute… Would you like me to prepare you or your lady a drink?”

“No, that will be all. You may leave now,” the warrior replied authoritatively, pleased by the change of stance in the little green bastard.

Once the two lovers found themselves alone, and after cautiously inspecting his surroundings, he finally let go of Bulma’s arm.

“Take a sit, Bulma,” he asked kindly.

Bulma followed his instructions, feeling incredibly awkward under these new circumstances. She sat on one of the plush burgundy couches, curiously looking around, and rapidly noticing this place wasn’t too different from the strip joints she’d visited back on Earth. Such places weren’t really her sort of thing, but she recalled a particularly cringeworthy night when Yamcha had convinced her to go to one of those locals to ‘spice things up a little’ in their almost-dead relationship. She reluctantly agreed, thinking that perhaps doing some sexy dancing for her increasingly soft boyfriend would be a bit of fun…

It turned out to be a big mistake when her ex-boyfriend ended up spending the entire night drooling over the semi-naked bimbos pole-dancing with their crotch right on his very eager face while he ignored her entirely as she entertained herself with a bottle of Champagne, sitting alone in a corner. When she confronted him about it a couple of days later, the man simply told her it was all in her head and even blamed her, accusing her of getting too drunk to enjoy her time with him.

Her ex-lover was a far cry from her current mate, who was stoically standing by her side, arms crossed, completely unconcerned by the almost nude females that could still be seen through a large glass window placed behind the dark red sofa.    

A welcoming, almost cheerful voice interrupted her shameful memories.

“My Prince…” A man said, entering the room and locking the door behind him with a large, golden key.

He was tall and thin, and even though Bulma had never met anyone from his particular race before, she guessed he was older than Vegeta, who’d uncrossed his arms by now, placing one of his strong hands firmly on the man’s shoulders, almost in a friendly manner.

The Saiyan greeted him with ease. “Teekoh.”

“It’s good to see you doing so well, My Prince…” The man continued.

Bulma felt silently amazed by the joy the enigmatic male seemed to genuinely profess. And, judging by Vegeta’s body language, the Saiyan appeared to be happy to see him too. Despite the very obvious, reverent respect the thin man showed Vegeta, they both looked almost like a couple old friends that hadn’t seen each other in a long time.

“Is everything ready?” Vegeta asked.

“Yes, My Prince. The cameras in this room have been disconnected, and I’ve already reported to my superior that it has been a malfunction.”

“How long before they send someone to do some repairs?”

“At this hour of the night, at least three hours, possibly even more.”

“What about that window?” Vegeta inquired again, pointing at the large glass window behind Bulma’s back from where the entire night club could be seen.

“Don’t worry, My Prince. It’s tinted glass, the exterior can be seen from here but you and your, um, your lady friend cannot be seen from the outside,” the taller man replied confidently.

“Is he upstairs?”

“Y-yes, My Prince…”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Very well…” Vegeta adjusted his white gloves, and Bulma could immediately perceive that unmistakable look of excitement and anticipation written all over his masculine face.

He looked so devastatingly handsome it hurt…

“This is one of my concubines,” he said, nodding in Bulma’s direction. “She is not one of my favorites, but she’s still a decent bed warmer… And most of all, she is mine.” He possessively emphasized his last word, looking the man fiercely in the eye and, all of a sudden, any trace of friendly camaraderie evaporated. “You do remember what happens to people that try to touch what’s mine, do you not?” He warned threateningly.

Oddly enough, the man didn’t seem too fazed by Vegeta’s suddenly aggressive speech, but he bowed respectfully, tranquilizing the warrior nonetheless.

“I do, My Prince. Rest assured, I will watch over her during your absence.”

“She does not have the right to speak nor to be spoken to, and if anyone tries to get anywhere near her, I am to be contacted at once. Understood?”

“Yes, My Prince.”

 Vegeta took one final look at his mate and turned around self-assuredly, abandoning the room and leaving Bulma alone with Teekoh. The tall man smiled kindly at her, and something told Bulma this man had already guessed by now that she wasn’t really one of Vegeta’s concubines. It made sense, she thought, after all, if he was someone that truly knew anything about her mate, he probably knew the Saiyan’s moral code went against anything having to do with forcing a woman against her will or using or abusing her in any way.

Teekoh walked to the door, blocking it by placing a large, heavy chair behind it and sitting patiently on it. Bulma analyzed him silently, getting the impression that this was a man who’d spent most of his life beneath other people. There was a sense of calm acceptance in his submissive behavior, and yet, he looked at peace, sitting on his chair as he waited meekly for Vegeta to get rid of his boss. Why Vegeta trusted this man and why was this man helping him, she had no idea, but she finally decided that, if her mate trusted him, so would she. So, Bulma lifted her legs, resting her tired feet on a small coffee table in front of the couch, and propped her head back, trying to relax as she waited for Vegeta to do what he’d come here to do.

In that very moment, Vegeta was soundlessly walking through a long, dark corridor, getting closer and closer to his destination: the office that awaited him in the end of it. The place smelled of hard liquor and humidity, and it pleased him to discover his old enemy had ended up working in such a filthy, repugnant place.

It certainly suited the bastard…

Once he finally reached the door of his office, he knocked softly on it, wanting to prolong his revenge as much as he could.

A cold, raspy voice quickly replied. “Yeah?”   

Silence.

“Who is it?”

“…”

“Listen, asshole! Whoever the fuck you are, I’m not opening the fucking door for you! So, get in or get the fuck away from…!”

Vegeta smirked cruelly, turning the door knob and gradually opening the door. His entire body was tense, ready to face whatever was waiting for him behind that old, wooden door, but nothing could prepare him for the pitiful spectacle he was about to encounter.

There, lazily sitting behind a timeworn mahogany desk, inside a room filled with cigarette smoke and lightened by a sad, dusty lightbulb, an old demon from the past sat miserably, staring open mouthed at him.

“Well, I’ll be damned…” The green lizard finally muttered.

This?

This was what he’d been waiting for throughout most of his entire adulthood?

The man in front of him was very different from the monster he still recalled from his nightmares. True, he’d never been the great warrior his brother had been, but this… This thing… This couldn’t be the one he was seeking revenge from…

He was grossly overweight, his large belly protruding over the tight waist of his brown, worn down pants. His green hair, which in the old times had been just as long and abundant as his sibling’s, was now much shorter, tied back in an oily, stringy ponytail in a pathetic attempt to conceal the fact that the old man was very obviously going bald.

“I’d heard some rumors about you, but… Damn! I couldn’t believe they were true…” The lizard said, bringing his cigarette to his mouth and inhaling the poisonous smoke with trembling fingers, which Vegeta wasn’t sure were the result of fear or just his overall poor health. The monster coughed loudly, his lungs filled with phlegm, making such revolting noises, the Saiyan couldn’t help but snarl in pure disgust.

The man smirked with a mixture of evilness and amusement. “What’s the matter, Lord Vegeta?” He asked mockingly. “Am I not what you were expecting to see?” He inhaled again, followed by another incontrollable coughing fit. “I guess time hasn’t been kind to me, uh?”

“That must be the only truth I’ve ever heard coming from your lips,” Vegeta finally answered. “Time has repeatedly kicked you in the ass… I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised…”

“Well… Not all of us are lucky enough to possess Saiyan genes, uh? Little Monkey?”

The oh, too familiar insult made Vegeta groan in rage, but he decided not to take the bait. At least, not yet. If he was totally honest with himself, he didn’t quite know how to act anymore. Out of all the possible scenarios he’d projected in his mind, he’d never pictured finding Zonzon in such a deplorable state.

“Man… I told Frieza so many fucking times to stop toying with you and just fucking kill you already…” He chuckled breathlessly. “But the bastard wouldn’t listen to me. He said you were such a useful Little Monkey, doing all his dirty work for him…”

“Well, we all know how things worked out for him in the end...” Vegeta stated arrogantly.

“Oh, yeah… A Saiyan ended up killing him. What a shame it wasn’t you, uh?”

The Prince raised his head proudly, still unwilling to play the old bastard’s game. “It was still a Saiyan, after all, the one who ended his life.”

Zonzon shrugged.

“Anyway… Who gives a shit? He’s dead, and we’re here. That’s all that matters in the end.”

“Mmm… You are here, indeed…” Vegeta said in agreement, running his eyes once more across the tiny grimy room. “I guess it’s fitting that you ended up in this place. You were always Frieza’s bitch, and now you’re just a fucking pimp…”

“Meh… A man has to make a living one way or another, am I right?”

The Prince remained silent, waiting to see where the lizard was going with this. The more he looked at him, the more the feeling of revulsion grew and grew. His skin looked like yellowish wrinkled paper, certainly not the result of natural ageing, but that of a life purely devoted to living in vice.

“So… My Lord…” Zonzon said, putting out his cigarette in a half-full ashtray with his thick, dirty, stained fingers. “Are you here to kill me or to get Frieza’s share?”

Vegeta tilted his head to the side, not quite understanding what the monster was referring to. “Frieza’s share?”

The lizard laughed loudly, seemingly finding the whole situation entertaining.

Far too much, in Vegeta’s opinion…

“What? You didn’t know Frieza got a share of every single business on the planet?”

“Is that so?” Vegeta asked malevolently.

Why was he even surprised? After all, Frieza had always tried to get his hands on every single credit he could, even when he was so damn wealthy that acquiring any more wealth wouldn’t have made any significant difference to him anymore. And, for a man with an endless and constant supply of concubines, getting money from exploiting women wasn’t too farfetched.

“So, I was right, uh? You’re here to kill me…”

Zonzon smirked almost playfully, still unperturbed by Vegeta’s murderous intentions.

‘What the fuck was happening here?’

“Go ahead,” he challenged, leaning back on his tattered chair, arms lying nonchalantly on its armrests.

There was a moment of silence in the room, and Vegeta’s eyes remained fixated on the bastard’s repugnantly confident face as his mind raced at a million miles per hour trying to understand why the guy would let him kill him without even putting up a fight. It was obvious Zonzon would be the one to lose in the end anyway but, still, where was the honor in sitting on a chair waiting indifferently, almost invitingly, for someone to kill you?

And then it hit him.

The decrepit lizard wanted to die…

And who wouldn’t under his current circumstances?

An ageing man in poor health, probably feeling like shit every single day of his life after having spent his younger years living decadently…

“What’s the matter, Little Monkey? Wasn’t that what you always wanted?” Zonzon grinned, giving Vegeta a glimpse of his almost toothless foul mouth. “Oh… I know… This wasn’t what you were expecting, was it?” He put his hands on his massive belly, rubbing it lazily as he mocked the Saiyan Prince. “I bet you were expecting to see the man I was… The one that could get you bleeding and on your knees with a single finger…”

“If I recall correctly, I gave you the beating of your life by the time I was ten years old, old man,” Vegeta retorted, inwardly disgusted by the traumatic memories the lizard evoked.

Zonzon’s favorite sport had been to beat him up, almost weekly, for several years. For a while, the child he was hadn’t been strong enough to defend himself, not that he wouldn’t try, unsuccessfully every single time. But, of course, his Saiyan genes had allowed him to get stronger and stronger after each beating until, one glorious day, the tables were turned and he kicked the lizard’s ass. The fucking coward had immediately run to Frieza asking for help and revenge, and revenge he got, when Frieza beat up the kid so badly he almost ended his life. It’d been one of the most brutal thrashings his old Master had punished him with, and the worst part was, Vegeta never knew exactly why.

Indeed, Zonzon had always been one of the Emperor’s favorites, despite the fact that, even though he was a decent warrior, he wasn’t one of the strongest ones either, and if there was something Frieza respected above everything else, it was physical strength.

After Vegeta had finally become stronger than him, Zonzon apparently requested his Master to transfer him somewhere else, and Frieza granted him permission to leave the Forces, lending him a small fortune to run a business somewhere far away from the three remaining Saiyans alive.

What was the reason behind Frieza’s generosity? He never knew. The only explanation plausible to him was that Zonzon was Zarbon’s older brother, and Zarbon had always been one of his Master’s absolute favorites. There’d even been rumors that such favoritism went beyond Zarbon’s natural fighting ability, and that Frieza was also enamored of his physical beauty and his rumored fluid sexuality, taking full advantage of both for years.

After Zonzon left Frieza’s Army, Vegeta only heard reports about the older man here and there: stories of him investing his newfound wealth on some very successful night-club on a pleasure planet, somewhere in another galaxy. Followed, years later, by stories of his decadence, and how his vicious nature had made him lose most of his wealth, even gambling most of his shares of his own business away, thus ending up as mere co-owner of the strip joint.

As a young man, Vegeta had wanted nothing more than to find the bastard, fight him and end his life in battle. But Nappa and Raditz had always discouraged him from following such plans, begging him to keep the eye on the big picture by biding his time, training hard and obeying Frieza’s orders for years until he’d be able to ascend to Super Saiyan status and reclaim his Birth Right, taking full control and ruling over the Universe.

And now, well…

All of those plans had come true, even if things sometimes hadn’t happened exactly as he would have wished them to in his youth. And there he was, standing in front of his old torturer, ready to end his life, but realizing he couldn’t go through with it. Not because Zonzon didn’t deserve to die, but because Vegeta was finally getting the impression that keeping him alive would make a better punishment.

After all, what could be worse for a man who’d been the old Emperor’s favorite than living a small life? A life of mediocrity where he was reminded, every single goddamned day, that it was he and he alone, the one responsible for his countless failures.

A life lived in filth.

It’d be a perfect ending for a less than perfect life…

“You are right,” Vegeta finally declared, smugly lifting his chin in arrogant dominance. “You are not a man worth dying by my hand. In fact, you’re barely even a man anymore… There’d be no honor in killing you.”

“Ah… Honor… You and your stupid honor. You always had far too many principles for being nothing more than a dirty Little Monkey…”

The Saiyan smirked, feeling a strange sense of superiority and relief when he understood the disgusting creature’s offensive words couldn’t even touch him anymore.   

And he thought of Bulma, his Bulma, waiting patiently for him downstairs, and he realized he’d much rather go back to her and devote his time and energies on her than on any other being on that disturbing planet.

Vegeta turned around, ready to leave the small, nasty office without even so much as a goodbye.

“Wait, Vegeta! Are you serious?” The lizard asked in complete disbelief.

“You’re not even worth my time anymore,” Vegeta concluded, already on his way out, giving him his back. “Good luck, old man…”

The Saiyan opened the door, only to find the green dwarf waiting uncomplainingly behind it. A look of fear crossed the miniature man’s face, starting to sweat profusely as he attempted to explain himself.

“Oh! I-I’m s-sorry, Sir… I… I j-just wanted t-to bring my b-boss this receipt…” He clarified, shakily waving a now wrinkled piece of paper in front of him.

“He’s all yours,” Vegeta replied nonchalantly. “My business here has concluded.”

Just as he was about to finally exit the room, the small man said something that changed his plans entirely.

“O-Oh! Well… Um… Thanks for visiting! I-I hope y-you have a great t-time with your lady d-downstairs!”

‘Fuck!’

Did that filthy piece of shit just ruin everything?

“Well! Vegeta! You brought a female with you?” Zonzon’s repugnantly amused voice asked in the background.

‘Yes, that green idiot had just destroyed his plans…’

Vegeta shot daggers at the green dwarf, muttering threateningly.

“Get the Hell out of here before I change my mind, right fucking now.”

The short guy didn’t need to be told twice, running away as fast as he could.

“My, my… I’m impressed, Vegeta… Who is she? Your little whore? A concubine? How many have you got? More than Frieza did? I thought you weren’t even interested in those things…”

Vegeta stood still in his spot, having the dreaded feeling he knew how this conversation would end now that the bastard had learned of Bulma’s presence.

“I am not,” he declared hostilely, still avoiding the ghastly lizard’s gaze, who was laughing stridently, his phlegmy raspy voice bursting into another disgusting coughing fit.

“Mmm… Really? Is she your mate, then? Man! Is she pretty? I bet she’s hot… She must be if you’d rather bring her here instead of fucking one of my girls…”

The Prince growled menacingly, turning around and facing the old monster once again.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your fucking mouth right now…”

He didn’t.

“Shit! Was I right? You actually have your own woman? Ha! Is she in the V.I.P. room where one of my cameras mysteriously malfunctioned tonight?”

Vegeta’s fury kept growing internally, as well as an intense, fiercely protective emotion at the thought of Zonzon getting anywhere near his Bulma.

“Watch it, old man!”

The lizard kept running his mouth, apparently undisturbed by the Saiyan’s warnings.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out, eh? Let’s go check on that hot piece of ass of yours…”

Zonzon stood from his chair precariously, but before he could get too far, he found his large, flabby body violently crushed against the already cracked wall, his big feet no longer touching the ground as Vegeta’s hand grabbed him aggressively by the neck.

“You will never, EVER, get anywhere near my woman!” He growled ferociously, his entire muscular body trembling in pure rage. “You’re not even worthy of breathing the same air she breathes!”

“F-Fuck…” Zonzon stuttered, desperately gasping for air. His eyes told Vegeta he was panicking, and his whole shtick about wanting to die had been just a bluff after all. Now that the monster was finally face to face with death, feeling his life slowly slip through his dirty fingers, he pathetically attempted to save his ass any way he could.

“C-Come on, Vegeta… I-I was just j-joking… I b-bet she’s a nice girl… How about I offer you two some…?”

“SHUT UP! Shut the fuck up! Do NOT speak of MY WOMAN!”

“Ve-Vegeta… P-Please… I…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Vegeta let go of Zonzon, snatching his heavy head as his body was about to hit the floor and cracking his neck in one quick motion, dropping the now lifeless body on the ground.

‘That was it…’

Vegeta took one final look at the dead body. The lizard’s face now looked like a horrible, grotesque mask, his glassy eyes wide open in shock and fear and his purplish tongue ridiculously sticking out of the toothless mouth.

He left the office, closing the door behind him and resolutely walking towards the V.I.P. room where Bulma awaited him. The closer her presence felt, the more his fury seemed to evaporate.

So, he’d killed the bastard.

So, what?

Wasn’t that the plan all along?

So, what if it’d been his desire to protect Bulma what had actually given him the final push to putting an end to the lizard’s life and not his original wish for revenge?

Wasn’t the end result the same anyway?

Zonzon was dead.

Good riddance.

It shouldn’t make a difference to him, and yet, it made all the difference in the world.

He’d killed an old ghost from the past for her…

What had this woman done to him?

Relief washed over him when he finally joined his mate, who was now kneeling on the couch, holding a glass in her hand, her little elbows leaning on the headrest as she looked at all the semi-nude females dancing outside, in the night club, with avid eyes.

Teekoh was still sitting by the door, and he got up immediately as soon as he noticed the warrior’s presence.

“My Prince…” He bowed.

“Hey, Vegeta!” Bulma said, offering him a dazzling, tipsy smile. “You’re back!”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her much too chirpy behavior.

“I’m sorry, My Prince, but… Your concubine insisted that she wanted a drink and I… I had to…”

“Do not apologize, Teekoh. She really is a stubborn little wench, isn’t she?” The Prince replied with a smirk on his face, tranquilizing his old friend and secretly amused by Bulma’s antics. The blasted woman couldn’t follow the goddamned rules for even five minutes, and he’d be lying if he said a big part of him didn’t love her for it.

“Y-Yes, My Prince… She’s a stubborn girl, indeed. I prepared her drink myself, from the bottles we keep here in our private bar, so there’s no danger, I assure you…”

Vegeta placed a reassuring hand on the taller man’s shoulder, just as he’d done when he first greeted him earlier. “That is quite all right, Teekoh, we’ll be leaving soon anyway.”

The thin man nodded in relief. “Was…? Was your visit satisfactory?” He asked prudently.

“It was,” Vegeta simply replied, not wanting to get into too many details and feeling that words were not even required at this point. “You may leave now, Teekoh. Your help is no longer needed.”

“Very well, My Prince.”

Vegeta walked Teekoh to the door, and the man unlocked it, offering the Saiyan the golden key.

“You may lock it after I’m gone if you wish, nobody will bother you if you want to spend some alone time with your woman in here.”

The Prince took the key, and he put his hand inside his armor as if he were looking for something. When he finally took it out, he was holding a small, golden card, which he instantly offered to his friend.

“This is for you, in payment for your help,” he said solemnly, making the older man’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh, no! No, I can’t! It’s not…”

“Take it,” Vegeta insisted, sternly placing it on Teekoh’s hand against the man’s will.

“My Prince, it’s not necessary… I was happy to help you tonight. I fully understand your… Your reasons…”

“This is not just for your services tonight, old man. This is also for…” Vegeta paused, hesitating, feeling uncomfortable about recalling certain events from the past. “For all your services in the past…”

Both men exchanged a knowing glance, and Teekoh finally relented, taking the card with shaky hands and nodding in thankfulness.

“I only did what was right, My Prince.”

“And that is exactly what I am doing right now, Teekoh.”

The taller man exited the room, saying his final goodbyes to the Saiyan and his woman.

“Good luck, Prince Vegeta.”

“Good luck,” the Prince assented, finally closing the door and locking it behind him.

When he turned his attentions back to Bulma, he discovered the nosy little woman had been paying close attention to the previous exchange with his old comrade. He removed his white gloves, throwing them into a nearby trash can and turning them to ashes with a tiny ki spark. He didn’t want to touch his mate with the same gloves he’d been wearing when he killed such a filthy creature.

He approached her, at once taking away the glass she was holding in her dainty hand. He carefully sniffed the pink liquid it contained, taking a small sip to taste it. It was sickly sweet, and definitely stronger than anything he’d drank on Earth, so it was a good thing the woman had barely had a taste of it, otherwise she’d be blind drunk by now.

Vegeta sat by Bulma’s side, knowing they should abandon the night club as soon as they could, just in case, but wanting to cool down for a few minutes before they left.

His woman took advantage of his proximity and shamelessly threw her arms around him, holding his neck and kneeling on the couch beside him. She kept smiling at him, one of those pure, honest-to-Gods smiles of hers, and he could tell that, even though she wasn’t inebriated, the alcohol had loosened her up a bit.

“So… How did it go? Did everything work out?”

The Saiyan grunted affirmatively. He didn’t want to talk; all he wanted to do was to share a moment with his mate. After all the immorality and decadence he’d just witnessed tonight, she was all he needed.

Bulma swiftly made her move, boldly straddling him, siting on his lap and trapping his strong, muscular thighs between her legs. Vegeta’s hands automatically travelled to her hips, holding her firmly, as if she were the only thing still capable of keeping him grounded to this world.

“Mmm…” Bulma moaned, playfully nuzzling his nose. “I guess that means you’re all mine from now on…” She said, teasingly rubbing her core against a very dangerous area underneath his tight flying pants.

Vegeta hissed loudly, clutching her hips even tighter, knowing that if the devilish creature kept moving like that, she’d elicit a very embarrassing physical reaction from him very, very soon…

“You’re drunk, woman…” He whispered in her ear, making her giggle in response.

“I’m not!” Bulma pouted childishly. “I’m just a little tipsy, that’s all…”

She kept dangerously rubbing herself against him, and Vegeta felt more and more powerless by the second. He buried his nose in her neck, feeling her comforting presence wash all over him. She smelled of life, honesty and all things bright, and he realized he needed her now, more than ever, to forget about the humiliating fiasco this trip had turned out to be.

“Mmm… Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look in your new armor?” She asked, nibbling on his strong jaw and making him unconsciously tilt his head back, letting her do as she pleased with him.

Vegeta groaned, already feeling his body react to his little woman. “Is that so?” He whispered teasingly in a warm, husky voice.

Bulma run her tongue across his jaw, almost soothing the places she’d just sunk her small teeth into. “You do… And you know what I just realized?”

His rugged hands squeezed her hips once again, silently encouraging her to keep talking, to say something, anything. All he wanted was to keep hearing the calming sound of her melodic, coquettish voice…

“You haven’t even looked at any of the other girls in this club tonight…”    

Vegeta looked at her, puzzled as to why it was so surprising to Bulma that he hadn’t paid any attention to all those other wenches. Didn’t she already know she was his woman? Why would he ever feel the need of looking at someone else?

When he said nothing, Bulma kept talking, taking advantage of the courage the liquor had given her.

“Mmm… I think that deserves a reward, don’t you think?”

The Saiyan pressed her gorgeous body even closer to him, his hands never letting go of those luscious hips. He could feel his sanity slipping away, knowing where this was inevitably going, and for the first time in months, he truly didn’t give a shit anymore.

He got the impression the liquor was finally making his woman lose control and open up to him, sharing her deepest desires, and Vegeta was feeling more eager than ever to indulge her, so he willingly kept provoking her…

“What do you have in mind, little human?”

Bulma smirked seductively, glad to see Vegeta so keen to play her little game of seduction. She placed a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose and she proceeded to remove her mate’s possessive hands from her body. He reluctantly agreed, knowing his woman wasn’t really going anywhere and curious as to what her naughty, mischievous mind had in store for him.

“Perhaps your gorgeous concubine should do a little dance for you…”

She stood in front of him, all long legs and sparkly high heels and, for the first time, Vegeta paid attention to the music playing in the background, which he’d ignored entirely before. It reminded him of Earth’s so-called ‘Oriental music’ and the melody seemed to have been specifically designed for the breathtaking woman sensuously dancing just for him.

His mouth went dry at the sight of her voluptuous hips indolently shaking for his eyes only. The minute black dress, whose neckline was so low he could almost see her bellybutton, was so short that, as she moved, it offered him a glimpse of her perfect, rounded ass cheeks. Her arms kept moving with the rest of her body in perfect unison as she bent over, languidly running her hands across her skin, from her knees to her creamy thighs, hips and breasts, which kept bouncing slightly from side to side as she kept dancing, swaying to the rhythm of the exotic sounds…

She was hypnotizing.

She was so maddeningly fucking perfect it hurt, and she was all his…

Vegeta knew all he had to do was say the word and she’d fervently comply, ardently giving herself to him, letting him do whatever the Hell he wanted with her body. And when she finally offered him her hand, he took it; the Gods helped him, he did, because nothing else mattered anymore. There was no past and no future. No death or revenge, only desire, a burning desire that consumed him like an incontrollable flame.

Only his Bulma could do that to him…

He stood by her side, and just as he was about to grab her and press her tight, petite body against him, she turned around, smooth and swift like a bewitching little snake.

And then…

Sweet merciful Gods!

Then she pressed her bottom against him, milking his cock, already hard as a rock, between her pert little ass cheeks. And even though his instinct of self-preservation begged him to keep her away from him, the primal, animalistic voices within his soul just ordered him to take all the enchanting woman had to offer and then some.

And he would, because he was a bastard from Hell, and that’s what he did…

He was born to take, pillage, kill and conquer, and he’d take this woman tonight even if giving in to her wishes killed them both.

Because, after all, nothing else really mattered…

They were just a man and a woman whose bodies kept imploring for release. There was no logical, scientific explanation for the unshakable attraction they’d both felt for each other since day one, and Vegeta had finally grown tired of fighting his urges anymore…

“I want you, Vegeta… Gods! I want you so much…” Bulma sobbed, laying her head back and rubbing her cheek against his as she kept pressing herself against his massive erection. Even though he hadn’t fucked her in months she still remembered oh, too well how good the excited man behind her could make her feel.

The scent of her arousal invaded Vegeta’s senses as he encircled her body, one arm around her hips and one hand softly caressing her breasts, feeling her rosy, hardened nipples through the thin fabric of her dress.

“Bulma…” He muttered, his mind so dazed by desire by now that he was incapable of putting a coherent sentence together.

“Am I prettier than those women, Vegeta?” She asked in a breathless, girlie voice. “Don’t you want me anymore?”          

He clutched a fistful of her tousled hair and pressed his lips against hers, indulging in a messy kiss, tasting the need and desire pouring from her.

“You’re more fucking beautiful than all of them together,” he honestly replied, his dark eyes penetrating her soul and his velvety voice feeling like an avid caress…  

She turned around, wrapping her thin arms around his neck and kissing him again, forcing him to swallow her desperate moans, feeling as if she were finally losing her mind.

“Then, what’s stopping you, Vegeta? J-Just… Just do it, please! I want you…” Her hand boldly run across his body, stopping when it reached his pants and pressing it against the large proof of his arousal.

“F-Fuck!” Vegeta roared, feeling his cock twitch and throb in anticipation. 

‘That was it…’

He couldn’t resist her anymore…

The Prince growled in need, passionately holding her face with one hand and squeezing it slightly, making her glossy lips pout in wonder. He run his textured tongue across them once, twice… His other hand then covered the one that was still daringly wrapped around his hard cock.

“Do you want this, Bulma? Do you want me?” He asked hoarsely against her panting mouth, trembling in sheer agony. She brazenly squeezed his member gently in response.

“G-Gods! Yes, Vegeta! Yes… I want you! I want all of you…”

No more words were needed for Vegeta to make his final choice. He bit her lower lip, making her gasp in shock and pleasurable pain, and sealed her mouth with another hot, searing kiss before she had time to chastise him. When he finally unlocked their lips, gasping for air, he held her flawless, radiant face between his hands, sealing their fate once and for all.

“Then you will have me, woman.”

Notes:        

Well...

Do I REALLY need to tell you what's finally going to happen in the next chapter?

Thanks a lot for reading!

In case someone is interested in my other works, you can find them here:

http://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahW/pseuds/SarahW

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8599955/SarahWDBZ

[damonbation]

Socially Responsible Investing: Is It Also More Profitable?

Since the Dawn of Mustachianism in 2011, the same question has come up over and over again:

“MMM, I see your point that index fund investing is the best option. But when you buy the index, you’re getting oil companies, factory farm slaughterhouses and a million other dirty stories.

How can I get the benefits of investing for early retirement without contributing to the decline of humanity?”

And in these nine years since then, the movement towards socially responsible investing has only grown. Public pension funds have started to “divest” from oil company stocks, and various social issues like human rights, child labor, climate change or corporate corruption have bubbled to the surface at different times.

And all of this has led to the exploding new field of Socially Responsible Investing (SRI), and a growing array of new ways to do it.

So it seems that this is not just a passing trend – people just might be starting to care a bit more. And since capitalism is just an expression of human behavior, the nature of capitalism itself may be starting to change.

This leads us naturally to the question:

What can I do with my money to help fix the world? And even better, is there a way I can make money in the process of fixing it?

The answer is a good, solid “Probably.”

As long as you don’t get too hung up on getting every last detail perfect, because just like real life, investing is a haphazard and approximate and unpredictable thing. But by understanding the big picture, you can make slightly better decisions on average, which lead to slightly better results. And slightly better results, stacked up consistently over time, can lead to a much better life, or even a much better world.

This is true in all of the main areas we care about – personal wealth, fitness and health, even relationships and happiness. And while your money and investments are certainly not the most important thing in life, they are still worthy of a bit of easy and effective optimization.

So anyway, the first thing to understand with SRI is, “what problem am I trying to solve?”

The answer is, “You are trying to make your investing (especially index fund investing) have a better impact on the world.”

On its own, index fund investing is ridiculously simple. You just get an account at any brokerage like Vanguard, Etrade, Schwab or whatever, and dump all your money into one exchange-traded fund: VTI.

When you do this, you are buying a stake in 3500 companies at once(!), which is both impressive and overwhelming. How do you even know what you are holding?

Well, this is all public information, and easily available with a quick Google search. For example, here’s a list of the top 90 holdings in VTI (click for larger):

Top 90 holdings in Vanguard’s VTI Exchange Traded Fund

As you can see, the biggest chunk of money is allocated to today’s tech darlings, because this index fund is weighted according to market value, and these are the most valuable companies in the US today.

Through a convenient coincidence, the total value of the VTI fund happens to be just under $1 trillion dollars, which means you can just throw a decimal point after the ten billions digit of market value to get a percentage. In other words, about 4.7% of your money will go towards Apple stock, 4.4 towards Microsoft, and so on. Together, these top 90 companies are worth more than the remaining 3,540 companies combined, so these are what really drive your retirement account.

And within this list, you will see some of the usual suspects: Exxon and Chevron (oil), Philip Morris (tobacco), Raytheon and Lockheed (bombs), and so on.

But what about the less-usual suspects? For example, I happen to think that sugar, and especially sugar-packed beverages like Coke, is the biggest killer in the developed world – a major contributor to 2 million of the 2.8 million deaths each year in the US alone. Should I exclude that from my portfolio too?

And what about drug and insurance companies – aren’t they behind the political stalemate and high costs of the US healthcare system? Comcast funded some election disinformation campaigns here in my home town in the early 2010s, should I exclude them too? And if you’re part of a religion that is against charging interest on loans, or in favor of pasta and Pirate costumes, or against a spherical Earth, or any number of additional ornate rules, you may have still more preferences.

The higher your desire for perfection, the more difficult this exercise will become. However, if you are like me and you just want to get most of the desired result with minimal effort, you might simply have a look at the Vanguard fund called ESGV.

ESG stands for “Environmental, Social and Governance”, and in practice it just means “We have tried to avoid some of the shittier companies according to some fairly simple rules.”

And the result is this:

Vanguard’s ESGV Exchange traded fund (ETF) – top 90 holdings

The first thing you’ll notice is that it’s almost the same. In fact, the top five holdings – Apple, Microsoft, Amazon, Facebook, Alphabet (Google) and Netflix not far behind, collectively referred to as the FAANG stocks – are completely unchanged – and this means that there will be plenty of correlation between these funds.

It’s also the reason that the stock market as a whole has recovered so quickly from this COVID-era recession: small businesses like restaurants and hair salons have been destroyed by the shutdowns, but big companies that benefit from people staying at home and using computers and phones are making more money than ever. The stock market isn’t the whole economy, it’s just the publicly traded companies, which are the big ones.

But let’s look at the biggest differences between the normal index fund versus the social version.

The following large companies listed on the left are missing in the ESGV fund, in order of size. And to make up the difference, the stake in the companies on the right have been boosted up to take their place in your portfolio.

Main differences between VTI and ESGV (source: etfrc)

The omission of Berkshire Hathaway was a bit of a shocker, as it is run with solid ethical principles by Warren Buffet, one of the worlds most generous philanthropists. And in fact the modern day nerd-saint Bill Gates is on the Berkshire board of directors, another person whose work I follow and respect greatly.

(side note: Apparently the company fails on the “independent governance” category. And Buffet disputes this category, but in his characteristic way has decided to say, “Fuck it, I’ma just keep doing my own thing with my half-trillion dollar empire over here and you can have fun with your little committee” – I’m paraphrasing a bit but he totally did say that.)

Furthermore, both funds hold the factory meat king Tyson foods, while neither holds Roundup-happy Monsanto, because it was bought by the German conglomerate Bayer AG a while back. Nextera is a giant electric utility in the Southeastern US that claims to be the world’s largest generator of renewable energy. Some do-gooders are against nuclear power, while others (including me) think it’s the Bee’s Knees and we should keep advancing it. And all this just goes to show how nobody will agree 100% on what makes a good socially responsible fund.

But What About The Performance?

In the past, some investors were nervous about giving up oil companies in their portfolio, because while it was a dirty substance, it was also what made the world go round – which meant it was a cash cow.

Now, however, oil is on its way out as renewable energy and battery storage have crossed the cost parity threshold – meaning it’s cheaper to make power (and vehicles) that don’t use oil. In its place, technology is the new cash cow, and tech is heavily represented in the ESG funds. The result:

Traditional index fund (VTI) vs Socially Responsible equivalent (ESGV)

As you can see, the performance has been similar but the ESG fund has done significantly better in the (admittedly short) time since it was introduced at Vanguard.

Of course, we have no idea if this will continue, but the point is that at least our thesis is not a ridiculous one – environmentally sustainable companies do have an advantage, if the world gradually starts to care more about these things. And if you look at the share price of Tesla and other companies that surround it in electric transportation and energy storage, you will see that there are many trillions of dollars already lining up to benefit from this transition. And the very presence of so much investment money creates a self-fulfilling prophecy, as Tesla is now building or expanding five of the world’s largest factories on three continents simultaneously.

So What Should You Do? (and what I do myself)

My latest home-brewed ebike project – this one can reach 42MPH / 67km/hr!

First of all, it helps to remember a fundamental piece of economics: your spending dollars will probably have a much bigger impact than your investment dollars. This is because you are sending a direct message to the world rather than an indirect one:

When you buy a new gasoline-powered Subaru (or a tank of gas for your existing guzzler) or a steak at the grocery store, or a plane ticket, you are telling those company directly that consumers want more of these products, so they will produce more of them immediately.

When you buy shares in Exxon, you are only subtly raising the demand for those shares, which raises the average price, making it ever-so-slightly easier for Exxon to maybe issue more shares in the future. In other words, you are making it easier for them to access capital. But capital is only useful if there is demand for their products. And with oil there is a nearly constant surplus, which is why OPEC and other cartels need to work together to artificially restrict supply, just to keep prices up.

Plus, as a shareholder you are theoretically eligible to place votes and influence the future direction of companies – even companies that you don’t like. If you look up the field of “shareholder activism”, you’ll see this is a tradition that goes way back.

So I have tried to take a few simple steps on the consumer side myself, and I find it quite satisfying: Insulating the shit out of all of my properties, building a DIY solar electric array on one of them, and buying one electric car so far to eliminate local gas burning. And a few electric bikes including a super fast one I made myself.

Each one of these steps has provided a very high economic return, percentage-wise, but that still leaves a lot of money to account for, which brings us back to stock investing.

As someone who loves simplicity, I have done this:

Bought almost entirely VTI (or similar Vanguard funds) from 2000-2015

Started experimenting with Betterment in 2015, liked it, and have been adding a percentage of my ongoing savings to that account to that since then. (Note that Betterment now also offers a socially responsible portfolio option.)

Switched the dividend re-investing of my old Vanguard VTI over to Vanguard ESGV, to avoid “wash sales” in making the most of Betterment’s tax loss harvesting feature.

Bought some shares of Berkshire Hathaway separately, and also make a few sentimental investments in local businesses, including the MMM HQ Coworking space.

But you could choose to be more hardcore in your ESG/SRI investing:

Buy your own basket of stocks based on the index, but with different weighting based on your own values

Spend more money on other things that generate or save money (a bigger solar array on your house, better insulation, electric car, an ebike to reduce car trips, etc.)

Invest in local businesses of your choice, rental real estate, community solar projects, or other things which generate passive income – publicly traded stocks are just one of many ways to fund an early retirement!

Like most areas of life, investing is not something you have to do perfectly in order to succeed – even socially responsible investing. If you apply the 80/20 rule to get the big picture right, you have probably found the Sweet Spot and you can move on to the next area of life to optimize.

In the Comments: What is your own investment strategy? Have you thought at all about this ESG / SRI stuff? Did this article bring anything new to the table?

from Money 101 https://www.mrmoneymustache.com/2020/08/22/socially-responsible-investing/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[conceptionwebmontreal940-blog]

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[creationsitewebmontreal493-blog]

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With latest Website design breakthroughs, like the introduction of Flash animation and high definition video clip content material, outstanding websites happen to be made to make the most of Substantially bigger levels of Visible outcomes and interaction. Nonetheless with this particular 'high end' Website design, arrives a rate, most of the time, conception site internet montreal which depend intensely on Flash written content are sometimes ridiculously slow to load. They normally Possess a development bar, which little by little goes through the Internet browser to signify when the web site will finish loading.

This is certainly very similar to the development bars that you may well be acquainted with if you employ video editing or 3D rendering software program, or if you employ video games consoles wherever they are exhibited even though you look forward to games to load. World wide web users on The entire will not want to attend three - 5 minutes for your web page to load even though it does characteristic higher resolution visuals, animation or video. They want quick educational articles abundant Internet websites. Whenever they planned to check out an animation or movie they would observe Tv set.

This is simply not to mention that Flash animation is all poor news and shouldn't be Employed in web design. If utilized subtly and in modest quantities it can make an internet site far more visually appealing without slowing the load time down an excessive amount of. Suited takes advantage of for Flash animation in conception de site internet montreal are items for instance; Flash banner ads, Flash online video and interactive Flash forms for on-line questionnaires or business displays.

Working with Flash for a whole Internet site design and style however, just isn't these a good suggestion. It slows the person's encounter down because they must look forward to things of it to load. Also, websites fully designed in Flash often use unfamiliar menu structures and features. This will confuse website visitors who just desire to quickly interact with the website and not be impressed by the way the menu animates. Simply because you are able to do these things in Flash, it does not imply they've got any actual working benefit in the real world. They may glance pretty, but if they don't seem to be useful and only irritate the visitor then they have got no true price.

A different argument against working with Flash to produce a full website is the fact that it substantially lowers the effectiveness of your Web sites' Search Engine Optimisation. Flash World wide web patterns are made up of 1 key file within a web page which search engines like google obtain tough to index. It is because the text inside them is normally graphical text and for that reason just isn't ordinarily accessible by search engines like yahoo. Some recent developments let some text to become displayed for serps in Flash Internet sites, but This really is nowhere around as efficient as textual content written content in just regular HTML based mostly Internet websites.

Despite the fact that Flash does have its constraints What's more, it has its very good factors if utilized effectively. As an illustration; Flash animation is generally scaled-down in file dimensions than regular gif animation and due to way it can be made the animation flows smoother than gif animation as well. Acquiring claimed this, I'd personally endorse only utilizing Flash in small regions inside of a web-site to go with other imagery which makes up the general layout. Locating a stability amongst small graphical aspects, imagery, Flash and good quality enlightening text is The crucial element to a successful person welcoming Internet site. This isn't to express that web design demands be uninteresting. By dealing with quality Website design businesses there's no motive why You could not Use a visually fascinating, well intended, convenient to use and productive Internet site.

When visitors first get there at an internet site, they want to be impressed and engaged with what the website provides. This may be determined by the ways that https://drive.google.com/file/d/13f-Sx-W3No4_5rt9s3RKt8uHjwXw6mbC/edit the world wide web designer has laid out the website's content textual content, images and options. Arranging things such as imagery, text, graphics, flash and video in this type of way as to maintain the visitor interested in the web site is the key to creation site internet montreal. If a web site has very poor design and style and doesn't get the attention with the visitor in the initial few seconds, then it may well be dismissed as just One more average website. This finally signifies the visitor will go somewhere else to invest their time and, additional importantly, revenue.

[siteinternetmontreal760-blog]

Conception Site Web Montreal

While quite a few elements of creation site web montreal vary from web page to site, many things stay exactly the same during virtually all Web sites on the internet. Most notably will be the navigation or menu. Just how where a web site's menu functions and appears is critical, as in the long run, people to a website are seeking sure standards that is likely to make them both remain and interact or depart. This capacity for an internet site to keep site visitors intrigued is usually often called stickiness. Site visitors want an attractive visually thrilling working experience, Article source but Maybe a lot more importantly, they want 'ease of use'. Internet site usability is usually a key variable for websites that want their readers to stay about, make an enquiry and ultimately complete a transaction and get a product or service.

World wide web buyers often choose convenient to use Web-sites, given that they never want to have to learn how to implement a web site each and every time they find a new 1. They should be capable to use a web site right after just a few seconds of on the lookout all around a homepage, any more and they'll depart and look through somewhere else. The necessity for quickly user interaction is vital and thus possessing a quick loading Internet site is likewise significant for a website to do well. In spite of quicker World wide web connections including broadband, Web customers don't desire to attend all around.

Just visualize, when you go to a store about the higher Avenue and so are thoroughly disregarded by shop assistants with the counter for five minutes, even Once you have built it clear you need aid. There is a correlation in this article to how an online consumer may well experience, when they get there at a web site that has been improperly creation de site web montreal, is hard to use, unfriendly and slow to load. Ensuring that a website has become effectively assumed out and made Along with the user in mind, displays a firm's exceptional selling details within just quickly recognizable eye catching calls for action and it has a transparent, simple to use menu is key to its success.

With modern Website design developments, like the introduction of Flash animation and superior definition video clip information, outstanding Internet websites are generated to take advantage of A great deal bigger levels of visual consequences and conversation. Having said that with this particular 'top quality' Website design, comes a selling price, more often than not, creation site internet montreal which count intensely upon Flash material are frequently ridiculously gradual to load. They frequently have a progress bar, which little by little goes over the Website browser to signify when the web site will end loading.

This is certainly very similar to the progress bars that you may be acquainted with if you utilize online video enhancing or 3D rendering software, or if you use games consoles where They may be exhibited while you look ahead to game titles to load. Net consumers on the whole tend not to want to wait 3 - 5 minutes to get a Online page to load although it does element superior resolution visuals, animation or movie. They need rapid educational information rich Sites. Should they wished to observe an animation or online video they would look at TV.

This is not to claim that Flash animation is all negative information and should not be used in Website design. If used subtly and in smaller amounts it may make a website far more visually pleasing without having slowing the load time down far too much. Suitable takes advantage of for Flash animation in developpement web montreal are points like; Flash banner ads, Flash video and interactive Flash forms for on-line questionnaires or company shows.

Using Flash for a whole website design and style nonetheless, is not such a good suggestion. It slows the consumer's encounter down since they should await aspects of it to load. Also, web sites totally created in Flash usually use unfamiliar menu buildings and options. This can confuse visitors who just desire to immediately interact with the web site rather than be stunned by the way the menu animates. Simply because you can do these things in Flash, it does not imply they've got any real Functioning price in the actual globe. They may seem really, however, if they're not purposeful and only irritate the visitor then they have got no real benefit.

An additional argument versus using Flash to make a entire Web-site is usually that it substantially minimizes the effectiveness within your Sites' Search Engine Optimisation. Flash World-wide-web designs are created up of 1 most important file in just a Web content which search engines like google and yahoo locate tough to index. It's because the textual content inside of them is usually graphical text and as a consequence is not usually obtainable by search engines like yahoo. Some the latest developments allow for some textual content for being exhibited for engines like google in Flash Internet websites, but this is nowhere in the vicinity of as successful as textual content material in conventional HTML primarily based Web-sites.

While Flash does have its limits Additionally, it has its superior factors if made use of effectively. As an example; Flash animation is normally more compact in file sizing than common gif animation and as a result of way it truly is produced the animation flows smoother than gif animation too. Having stated this, I would endorse only making use of Flash in tiny areas in a site to compliment other imagery that makes up the general structure. Finding a stability between negligible graphical components, imagery, Flash and good quality informative textual content is The crucial element to A prosperous user friendly website. This is not to claim that Website design desires be uninteresting. By working with high quality web design businesses there is no reason why you couldn't Have a very visually fascinating, very well intended, simple to operate and effective Web-site.

When people 1st arrive at a website, they wish to be amazed and engaged with what the website provides. This will be determined by the ways in which the internet designer has laid out the website's information text, photos and characteristics. Arranging things like imagery, textual content, graphics, flash and online video in this kind of way as to help keep the customer serious about the website is The main element to creation site internet montreal. If a web site has bad design and would not get the attention from the customer in the 1st couple of seconds, then it could be dismissed as just A further average Internet site. This in the end means the visitor will go in other places to invest their time and, far more importantly, money.

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Conception Site Web Montreal

Even though quite a few elements of creation de site web montreal differ from website to web site, a lot of things keep on being the exact same throughout nearly all of Sites on the net. Most notably is the navigation or menu. Just how where a web site's menu performs and appears is critical, as eventually, readers to a web site are searhing for sure requirements that could make them either stay and interact or depart. This potential for a web site to maintain readers fascinated is typically often called stickiness. People want a gorgeous visually interesting encounter, but Possibly much more importantly, they need 'simplicity of use'. Web site usability is really a crucial variable for Web-sites that want their site visitors to stick around, make an enquiry and ultimately entire a transaction and get a products or services.

Net customers usually desire user friendly Internet websites, simply because they usually do not want to obtain to learn the way to work with an internet site every time they find a new one. They should be capable of use a web site after only some seconds of on the lookout all around a homepage, anymore and they will depart and browse elsewhere. The necessity for rapidly person conversation is significant and as a consequence having a quick loading Internet site can be vital for an internet site to realize success. Despite having more quickly internet connections for example broadband, Online users don't need to attend about.

Just visualize, in case you go to a store on the significant Avenue and so are fully ignored by shop assistants with the counter for 5 minutes, even When you have made it apparent you desire aid. You will find there's correlation in this article to how an online consumer could feel, after they get there at an internet site that's been poorly conception de site internet montreal, is tough to use, unfriendly and slow to load. Ensuring that an internet site has become effectively imagined out and designed Along with the consumer in mind, shows a corporation's exceptional promoting details inside of very easily recognizable eye catching calls for motion and has a transparent, easy to use menu is key to its results.

With latest web design developments, like the introduction of Flash animation and higher definition video clip content material, amazing Web sites are Visit this website produced to benefit from A great deal larger amounts of visual outcomes and conversation. Nonetheless with this particular 'top quality' Website design, will come a rate, most of the click here time, conception web montreal which count greatly upon Flash material in many cases are ridiculously slow to load. They frequently Have got a progress bar, which gradually goes throughout the World wide web browser to signify when the website will finish loading.

This is very similar to the development bars that you may be acquainted with if you employ video clip editing or 3D rendering computer software, or if you employ online games consoles where by They can be shown even though you look ahead to video games to load. World wide web users on The complete usually do not want to attend 3 - five minutes for just a Web content to load even if it does aspect large resolution photos, animation or online video. They need fast insightful material wealthy Web-sites. Whenever they planned to check out an animation or video they might view Television set.

It's not to mention that Flash animation is all terrible information and should not be used in Website design. If used subtly As well as in modest quantities it might make a website additional visually appealing without having slowing the load time down a lot of. Ideal employs for Flash animation in conception site web montreal are factors for example; Flash banner adverts, Flash video and interactive Flash types for on the web questionnaires or business displays.

Working with Flash for a whole Web page design and style even so, is just not such a good idea. It slows the person's knowledge down mainly because they need to await features of it to load. Also, web sites entirely designed in Flash usually use unfamiliar menu structures and features. This will confuse visitors who just need to swiftly interact with the website and not be astonished Incidentally the menu animates. Simply because you can do these items in Flash, it doesn't mean they've any actual Functioning benefit in the real environment. They might glance really, but when they don't seem to be useful and only irritate the visitor then they've got no authentic worth.

Yet another argument from utilizing Flash to create a full website is always that it considerably minimizes the effectiveness of one's Web sites' Online search engine Optimisation. Flash Internet patterns are made up of 1 main file within a Web content which search engines like google and yahoo uncover hard to index. This is because the textual content inside of them is frequently graphical textual content and so will not be ordinarily available by engines like google. Some the latest developments let some textual content to be displayed for search engines like google in Flash Web sites, but This is certainly nowhere in close proximity to as powerful as text articles inside common HTML dependent websites.

While Flash does have its limitations Additionally, it has its excellent points if employed effectively. For example; Flash animation is generally more compact in file measurement than conventional gif animation and due to way it really is manufactured the animation flows smoother than gif animation as well. Acquiring claimed this, I'd personally advocate only making use of Flash in little places inside of a web page to go with other imagery that makes up the overall design. Locating a harmony among minimal graphical factors, imagery, Flash and top quality enlightening textual content is The important thing to An effective consumer welcoming Internet site. This is not to express that Website design needs be monotonous. By working with quality Website design corporations there isn't any rationale why you couldn't Use a visually interesting, very well developed, user friendly and productive website.

When website visitors initial get there at a web site, they want to be impressed and engaged with what the website provides. This could be based on the ways that the net designer has laid out the website's information textual content, photos and capabilities. Arranging factors which include imagery, textual content, graphics, flash and video in such a way as to keep the customer interested in the web site is the key to site internet montreal. If a website has weak style and won't grab the attention from the visitor in the first several seconds, then it might be dismissed as just A further regular Internet site. This in the end indicates the visitor will go elsewhere to invest their time and, a lot more importantly, revenue.

[designwebmontreal588-blog]

Site Web Montreal

Nevertheless lots of components of conception site internet montreal vary from internet site to internet site, a lot of things continue being precisely the same all over nearly all websites on the net. Most notably may be the navigation or menu. The way in which a website's menu operates and looks is very important, as in the long run, site visitors to an internet site are trying to find specific requirements that is likely to make them both keep and interact or go away. This capability for a web site to maintain website visitors fascinated is usually often called stickiness. Visitors want a lovely visually interesting expertise, but perhaps a lot more importantly, they need 'ease of use'. Website usability is a vital element for Internet websites that want their readers to stay all over, make an enquiry and ultimately total a transaction and purchase a services or products.

World wide web consumers often like easy to use websites, given that they tend not to want to get to learn how to implement an internet site anytime they discover a new a person. They should be capable of use a web site soon after only some seconds of looking all-around a homepage, any more and they will go away and browse in other places. The need for quickly user conversation is important and so possessing a quick loading Web page is also critical for an internet site to thrive. Despite having faster World-wide-web connections for instance broadband, World wide web end users don't need to wait all-around.

Just consider, in the event you go to a store within the higher Road and are completely dismissed by shop assistants in the counter for 5 minutes, even after you have produced it very clear you would like assistance. There exists a correlation right here to how an internet user may well really feel, whenever they arrive at a web site that has been inadequately conception site internet montreal, is difficult to use, unfriendly and sluggish to load. Ensuring that a website has actually been perfectly believed out and built with the person in your mind, shows a firm's special promoting factors inside of conveniently recognizable eye catching requires action and has a transparent, simple to use menu is key to its accomplishment.

With new Website design advancements, including the introduction of Flash animation and large definition video clip material, amazing Internet sites have been generated to make use of much larger levels of visual results and conversation. Even so with this particular 'top end' web design, arrives a price, as a rule, design web montreal which rely seriously upon Flash articles are sometimes ridiculously slow to load. They frequently Use a progress bar, which gradually goes across the Website creation site internet montreal browser to signify when the web site will complete loading.

This can be very like the progress bars that you might be accustomed to if you utilize video clip modifying or 3D rendering software program, or if you use online games consoles wherever These are exhibited although you await games to load. Internet buyers on The full do not want to wait 3 - five minutes for any Web content to load whether or not it does function large resolution images, animation or online video. They need fast enlightening content abundant Web-sites. If they wished to view an animation or video clip they'd watch TV.

It's not to declare that Flash animation is all negative information and shouldn't be Utilized in web design. If used https://docs.google.com/document/d/1E3colYmPjB-ZtYZ7np_8P6W8EwNWsBkRLjnOsBCOQUU/edit subtly As well as in compact quantities it could make a web site far more visually pleasing without the need of slowing the load time down an excessive amount of. Suitable uses for Flash animation in conception site web montreal are issues such as; Flash banner commercials, Flash online video and interactive Flash kinds for on line questionnaires or enterprise presentations.

Working with Flash for a complete Site layout having said that, isn't these a good suggestion. It slows the user's working experience down since they really have to look ahead to features of it to load. Also, internet sites completely created in Flash are likely to use unfamiliar menu structures and functions. This can confuse site visitors who just want to rapidly communicate with the website instead of be stunned by the way the menu animates. Simply because you can do these things in Flash, it doesn't mean they have any genuine working worth in the real planet. They might glance fairly, however, if they are not purposeful and only irritate the visitor then they have no genuine price.

Yet another argument from working with Flash to produce a whole Web-site is the fact that it considerably minimizes the success within your Web sites' Online search engine Optimisation. Flash Net types are created up of one key file inside of a Web content which search engines like yahoo come across difficult to index. It is because the textual content in them will likely be graphical textual content and for that reason just isn't typically obtainable by engines like google. Some latest developments allow for some textual content to become displayed for search engines in Flash Web sites, but this is nowhere close to as efficient as text articles inside regular HTML centered Web sites.

Even though Flash does have its constraints In addition, it has its great factors if used effectively. As an illustration; Flash animation is generally smaller sized in file measurement than traditional gif animation and as a result of way it is designed the animation flows smoother than gif animation way too. Acquiring claimed this, I might advocate only applying Flash in modest parts in just a internet site to go with other imagery that makes up the general design. Getting a stability involving negligible graphical factors, imagery, Flash and high quality enlightening textual content is The crucial element to a successful consumer friendly Web site. This isn't to say that Website design needs be dull. By working with top quality Website design corporations there is no purpose why you couldn't Have a very visually enjoyable, perfectly intended, convenient to use and thriving Web-site.

When visitors 1st arrive at a web site, they would like to be impressed and engaged with what the website provides. This will be based on the ways in which the world wide web designer has laid out the website's material textual content, photographs and capabilities. Arranging elements for example imagery, text, graphics, flash and online video in such a way as to help keep the visitor serious about the web site is The main element to creation de site internet montreal. If a web site has weak design and doesn't grab the attention of the customer in the primary couple of seconds, then it could be dismissed as just another ordinary Web page. This in the end usually means the customer will go in other places to spend their time and, more importantly, dollars.

[creationsiteinternetmontre-blog1]

Creation Site Internet Montreal

Although quite a few areas of creation site internet montreal vary from web page to web-site, many things stay the identical during the vast majority of Internet websites on the net. Most notably is definitely the navigation or menu. How wherein an internet site's menu functions and appears is critical, as in the long run, readers to a web site are looking for specific standards that can make them either keep and interact or go away. This skill for a web site to keep site visitors intrigued is sometimes often called stickiness. People want an attractive visually thrilling knowledge, but perhaps much more importantly, they need 'simplicity of use'. Web-site usability is actually a crucial issue for Internet sites that want their readers to stick all around, make an enquiry and finally comprehensive a transaction and get a goods and services.

Online end users have a tendency to favor easy to use Internet websites, simply because they tend not to want to own to find out how to employ a website whenever they find a new just one. They should be capable to use an internet site soon after only some seconds of looking about a homepage, any more and they will go away and search elsewhere. The need for quick user interaction is significant and as a consequence possessing a fast loading website is usually vital for an internet site to do well. In spite of faster Web connections for example broadband, Net users don't need to wait around.

Just picture, if you visit a shop over the significant Road and are thoroughly dismissed by shop assistants on the counter for 5 minutes, even Once you have created it clear you want aid. There is a correlation here to how an online user may well sense, when they arrive at a web site that has been improperly site internet montreal, is tricky to use, unfriendly and sluggish to load. Ensuring that that a web site has long been well assumed out and intended While using the consumer in your mind, shows a corporation's exclusive selling details inside quickly recognizable eye catching requires motion and has a transparent, convenient to use menu is key to its good results.

With recent web design enhancements, including the introduction of Flash animation and superior definition online video content material, remarkable Web sites have already been manufactured to reap the benefits of Considerably increased levels of visual effects and conversation. Even so with this particular 'top quality' web design, comes a selling price, more often than not, creation site internet montreal which rely seriously upon Flash content material tend to be ridiculously gradual to load. They generally Have a very development bar, which slowly and gradually goes across the Website browser to signify when the website will complete loading.

This can be very similar to the development bars that you may be acquainted with if you employ movie editing or 3D rendering computer software, or if you employ video games consoles where They're exhibited even though you look forward to video games to load. World-wide-web end users on the whole usually do not want to wait 3 - five minutes to get a web page to load regardless of whether it does feature superior resolution visuals, animation or online video. They want rapidly enlightening content rich Sites. Should they wished to check out an animation or video they would check out Television set.

It's not to say that Flash animation is all undesirable information and should not be Employed in web design. If utilized Go to the website subtly and in small amounts it could make an internet site additional visually captivating without slowing the https://sites.google.com/site/johnlois395/conception-site-web/creation-site-web-montreal/conception-site-web-montreal load time down excessive. Ideal utilizes for Flash animation in conception web montreal are items such as; Flash banner commercials, Flash video clip and interactive Flash varieties for https://sites.google.com/site/johnlois395/conception-site-web/creation-site-web-montreal/conception-web-montreal on the web questionnaires or company presentations.

Making use of Flash for a complete Web-site style nevertheless, isn't these types of a good idea. It slows the consumer's practical experience down simply because they really have to anticipate things of it to load. Also, web pages absolutely produced in Flash are likely to use unfamiliar menu buildings and capabilities. This could confuse site visitors who just wish to speedily connect with the website and never be stunned Incidentally the menu animates. Just because you can do this stuff in Flash, it doesn't suggest they may have any authentic Doing work value in the real world. They may glance rather, but when they don't seem to be functional and only irritate the visitor then they may have no authentic value.

Another argument against using Flash to produce a complete website is that it drastically decreases the usefulness within your Web-sites' Search Engine Optimisation. Flash World wide web patterns are created up of 1 primary file in just a web page which search engines like yahoo locate hard to index. It's because the textual content in just them is often graphical textual content and so just isn't normally available by serps. Some the latest developments let some text to become displayed for search engines in Flash Internet websites, but That is nowhere near as productive as textual content content inside regular HTML centered Web sites.

Although Flash does have its constraints it also has its excellent factors if utilised accurately. For illustration; Flash animation is generally smaller sized in file dimensions than standard gif animation and due to the way it is actually built the animation flows smoother than gif animation way too. Obtaining said this, I would recommend only utilizing Flash in tiny places within a web-site to compliment other imagery that makes up the general design and style. Locating a stability in between small graphical factors, imagery, Flash and high quality instructive textual content is The real key to a successful user welcoming Web site. This is not to mention that web design wants be dull. By working with high-quality web design firms there's no explanation why You could not Have got a visually enjoyable, well built, user friendly and effective Web site.

When visitors very first get there at a web site, they would like to be amazed and engaged with what the web site provides. This will be determined by the ways that the web designer has laid out the web site's content material text, photographs and capabilities. Arranging aspects including imagery, text, graphics, flash and video in this type of way as to keep the visitor thinking about the web site is The real key to conception de site internet montreal. If an internet site has lousy style and design and isn't going to seize the eye with the customer in the very first several seconds, then it may well be dismissed as just One more typical Internet site. This finally indicates the customer will go elsewhere to invest their time and, far more importantly, dollars.