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shhhsecretsideblog · 23 days ago

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Keep That Crown

Ask: No. 19 during a dystopian tv game show where contestants have to do ridiculous physical challenges while fully dilated and ready to push. Last one to fully give birth wins fabulous prizes.

Thank you Anon, this is the most amazingly ridiculous prompt ever and was a joy to write. The story is completely satire, unrealistic, and purely for entertainment purposes. Special thanks to the talented @exponenshul for writing the third challenge, and to @gravid-transluna for being my incredible beta. You’re both amazing humans! 💜 (8k words)

Prompt: “I can’t stop it… nnghhh I’m pushingg!”

~•~

"Goooooood evening guys and girls. It's Saturday night, we're live, and welcome to another episode of..." "Keep That Crown!" Cheers the studio audience.

The TV presenter, Danny, continues. "For those of you who are new to our little corner of television, this is a game show where we take five mothers-to-be and put them to the test in a number of household challenges. Sounds easy enough, right? Well, the catch is that each mum-to-be is in active labour...and fully dilated! Whoever can complete all five challenges without giving birth has a chance to win our grand prize, and the last one standing will win a whopping £100,000.00!"

"Oooooooh." The audience awes on cue.

"Now let's meet tonight's contestants." Danny says with a staged smile, his overly white teeth glinting under the spotlights. Walking across the studio floor the camera pans to five heavily pregnant women, each standing behind a podium displaying their name. "Contestant number one is Mandy. She's 41 weeks pregnant with her first baby, a girl. How are you doing tonight Mandy?" The presenter asks casually.

"Ooof- I'm good thanks Danny. Focused and ready for the challenges. It's my first baby so hoping that works in my favour... hooooo...." A contraction cuts off Mandy's fighting talk and she grips the podium and hangs her head, panting heavily.

"First time mums are usually the most successful at this game, so good luck, Mandy! Next up we have Anna." The TV presenter walks across to the next pregnant woman, who's holding her contracting belly and swaying her hips side to side. "Anna is also a first time mum-to-be, 39 weeks pregnant with a baby boy. Do you think you're going to win tonight, Anna?"

"Mnnnghh I'm gonna g-give it my best shot." Anna says timidly with a grimace and a forced smile.

"Contestant number 3 is Becky. Becky is 37 and a half weeks pregnant with her third baby. Some of you eagle eyed viewers may recognise Becky from her second pregnancy and birth. You were unsuccessful last time, managing only two rounds before the head popped out during the dishwasher challenge. Reckon you can make it to the final round this time, Becky?"

"I hope so... hooohooo.... But ohh, this labour came on quicker than expected.... Mnnnnngh, three hours from first contraction to full dilation. But I'm hoping this little one can stay in a bit longer." Becky's cheeks were flushed pink and the sweat glistened on her forehead. Her tight leggings showed just how wide her gait was and every couple of minutes her knees bounced.

"Well, good luck to you Becky." Danny said before turning directly towards the camera. "Looks like she's going to need it." He added with a laugh and a wink.

"Now, next up we have Claudia. Another first time mum, 40 weeks pregnant exactly." The brunette was in the midst of a contraction and merely waved at the camera before holding on to the podium and groaning under her breath.

"And finally we have Niamh. Niamh is 37 weeks pregnant and this is a first for Keep That Crown - she's pregnant with twins!" Danny announced to a cheer from the audience. "You caused quite the discussion with our producers Niamh, as you're pregnant with two lovely healthy babies, we had to decide what the rules would be. Now, even though you're carrying two, you will need to keep both babies from being born in order to qualify for the final round. Reckon you can do that?"

"Definitely, Danny!" Niamh answered confidently. "Twins run in my family, but so do long labours. I'm here to win!"

She planted her hands on her hips and grinned. Her bump was bigger and lower than any of the other contestants and yet she seemed the most relaxed and sure of herself.

"That's the spirit Niamh!" Danny said. "Okay, now that we've met the contestants, let's start the challenges!!" He walked over to a new part of the stage, which was set up like a mini grocery store. The contestants followed, albeit more slowly.

"The first challenge is our iconic grocery shop challenge." Danny explained to the five labouring mothers. "Each of you have been given a shopping list of 7 different items. Your task is to go through our pretend supermarket, collect all the items on your list, and make it back to your podiums. You can use either a basket or the trolly to carry your items, but all items must be back here before the time is up. And remember, no matter how much you want to push, you just have to..."

"Keep that crown!" Shouts the studio audience.

"On your marks, get set.... GO!"

Niamh and Becky were first off the mark and waddled quickly towards the pretend supermarket. They both grabbed a trolly and rushed up and down the aisles of food, searching feverishly for their items. Anna and Mandy were quick to follow, and they chose the handheld basket option. Claudia, however, hadn't left her original position.

"Claudia, you need to move if you're going to collect all your items before the time runs out..." Danny tried to encourage the mum-to-be, but she was groaning loudly and gripping the podium tight.

"Ohhhhhh god. It's so low.... The pressure...." She whimpered.

"Don't push, Claudia. You've got to keep that crown!"

She staggered forward on unsteady legs and eventually reached the supermarket trolly. Barely making it down one aisle, Claudia stopped and squatted, holding on to the cart with a white-knuckled grip.

"Looks like Claudia is already pushing...that was fast. She'd better hope the baby doesn't come out any further or she's not even going to make it through the first challenge!" Danny narrates the scene whilst the camera follows each woman around the store.

Anna and Mandy were throwing items into their baskets, rushing quickly between contractions. Niamh and Becky had already got the first few items in their trolley’s. Whilst Niamh was ploughing ahead, Becky was struck by a forceful contraction and was bracing herself against an aisle. The third-time mother had one hand between her legs and she was mooing slightly under her breath.

Claudia managed to get one item in her trolley but soon gave up completely, crumpling to the floor on all fours and actively pushing her baby out. The bulge in her leggings could be seen appearing and then slipping back again.

"And Niamh is the first one back! Impressive with her twin-filled bump. She's closely followed by Anna and Mandy." Danny joined the returning mothers who were bent over and panting back at their stands. "Becky is still working her way around the store, but seems to be struggling. And- uh oh, Claudia!"

The camera cuts to Claudia on all fours by the frozen foods, the distinctive outline of a fully birthed head now protruding her clothing.

"Aaaand we have our first birth, ladies and gentlemen. Unfortunately, Claudia was not able to get through the first challenge and is now delivering her baby in aisle 3!" Danny enthusiastically announced.

The cameras kept their focus on Claudia as she pushed and pushed, but cut back to the TV host when the medical team went over to undress the birthing mother and help deliver the baby.

The sound of a baby crying filled the studio, and the show went to commercial break.

~•~

"Welcome back to Part 2 of Keep That Crown! We have four ladies left in the competition with just as many challenges still to go." Danny said while giving an award-winning smile to the camera.

"Next up is our infamous dishwasher challenge. Looking at you, Becky!" The presenter jokes and the camera cuts to the labouring mother in question. Becky is sweating and holding her extremely low baby bump and rolls her eyes.

Danny continues explaining to the audience at home. "In this challenge, our mums-to-be are tasked with unloading a dishwasher. Now, I've never been pregnant myself so at first, I didn't fully understand why this task would be a challenge. However, since working on this show, I've come to realise just how difficult it is for a heavily pregnant woman to load and unload a dishwasher. It may sound easy, folks, but this challenge has got the better of quite a few mums over the years. Not to mention our current contestant, Becky."

Danny, followed by the camera, travels across the studio to talk to the mums. "Now last time Becky, when you were birthing your second child, this was the challenge that got you. Do you think you'll fare any better tonight?" The presenter asked.

"I don't know Danny... mnghhhh... this baby is pretty desperate to- ugh!- come out." Becky's hands were holding her bump as she swayed side to side, knees dipping whenever she grunted.

"It certainly sounds that way!" Danny's eyebrows raised at the deep groans coming from this third-time-mum. "Now, if you could all make your way over to your allocated dishwashers."

Danny followed the women to the dishwasher setup and began to instruct. "Each of you has an identical dishwasher filled with crockery, cutlery and glassware. Your task is to get all the items out of the machine and stacked on top. You can start on the sound of the buzzer. Three... two... one..."

A klaxon is heard blaring across the studio and the music starts.

Each of the four contestants seemed to approach the challenge in a different way, and Danny began commentating on the challenge as it unfolded.

"First-time mums Mandy and Anna, each carrying one baby and having the smallest bumps of the group, have gone for the regular, forward bend. Mandy is attempting the bottom tray first, starting with the plates and crockery in the most cumbersome of the locations, whereas Anna has decided to tackle the glassware on the top tray, perhaps waiting to build herself up for the more difficult lower level.

"And Becky, our darling returning mum-to-be, has clearly made a strategy after last time. She's taken a new approach of kneeling on the ground beside the dishwasher, picking up plates and putting them on top of the machine. There'll be less physical movement with this choice, but whether her strategy pays off - time will tell." "And lastly we have our mum of twins Niamh. With the biggest belly, carrying two very healthy babies, doesn't have the option of the forward bend and is clearly not sure about getting down onto her knees. What is she going to do ladies and gentlemen?.... Oh, wow. That's a risky move from Niamh!"

The expectant mum of twins was rather nimbly dropping into a deep squat, her obscenely large belly hanging low between her jackknifed thighs and brushed the ground. Collecting a few plates and holding them against her bump in one arm, she pulls herself back to standing to place them above the machine. Seconds later, she's squatting again, collecting the side plates and bowls.

"Wow. Our Irish beauty Niamh is flying ahead in this challenge, but her method is risky and we have never ever seen it used successfully before." Danny's tone showed he was impressed.

Becky had managed to unload half of the bottom tray before she started to obviously struggle. Her knees slide wider on the studio floor, another contraction tightening up her bump and contorting it into a hard round ball. Bracing the tops of her thighs her hips sunk low to the ground and she grunted long and deep.

"Oh no!" Danny cried out. "Looks like Becky is pushing again. Her third baby is eager to join us."

The camera zooms in on the labouring woman; her face red and splotchy with the effort of birth. She was panting and groaning heavily, and from the low angle of the camera, the bulge in her leggings was undeniable. Shouts began to arise from the studio audience. "Don't push!" "Keep that crown!"

"Come on Becky, this challenge bested you last time- don't let it happen again! Keep that crown, mumma!" Danny encouraged.

The third time mum couldn't stop pushing, so in desperation she placed a hand between her thighs to stop the baby coming out any further. Becky grunted forcefully again into her palm and when the contraction was over and her hand removed, the head still appeared to be at a full crown inside her clothing, but was no longer moving. Becky exhaled, shook her head, and continued to remove the remaining items in her dishwasher.

"Anna is flying ahead in this challenge, closely followed by Niamh - those twins seem happy to stay in her belly." Danny observed. "...But it looks like Mandy is starting to struggle."

The soon to be mum was bent over the dishwasher, bracing her thighs and circling her hips, all thoughts of the challenge momentarily forgotten. Her heavy belly squished up tight, contracting forcefully and trying to evict its occupant. She whimpered and wailed as her baby sunk lower and lower, stretching her wide, desperate to be born.

"Uh oh, looks like she's struggling to keep that baby in. The question is.... Will she push?" Danny teased joyfully, adding drama to the already chaotic scenes.

Mandy could be seen muttering to herself under her breath.... Don't push don't push don't push... And yet her efforts were in vain, as the labouring mother soon dropped into a deep squat and bore down, groaning loudly.

"Mandy- hooooo... no! Don't p-push!!" Anna tried to encourage her fellow contestant, breathing heavily as she placed her final item on top of the dishwasher completing the challenge.

"Nnngghhhhh... I can't stop it! I'm pushing!!" Mandy cried, letting out a primal grunt. The bulge between her open legs got bigger and bigger as she pushed, the baby slipping further between her folds and into her tight leggings.

"Aaaaand Anna is the first to complete the challenge!" Danny announces loudly to the studio. "But it looks like we have yet another mother falling at the dishwasher hurdle. Mandy, that baby is almost out.... If the head comes fully out, you are out of the competition."

"Oh god! No..... it's coming out!!!!" Mandy groaned, her body working of its own accord, bearing down and pushing the giant head through her opening. The unmistakable cry of relief that followed told everyone in the studio that the baby's head had been born.

"That leaves three remaining contestants; Anna has finished the task, closely followed by Niamh. Darn, I was sure all that squatting was going to result in a birth- but well done to Niamh! Who do we have left? Oh yes, Becky." Danny smiled and walked beside the labouring mother as she tried to complete the task. "How are we doing Becky?"

"Mnnghhh!" Becky apparently could not speak, putting all her focus and energy on the two tasks - unloading the dishwasher and not birthing her baby. Her knees were wide as she knelt on the floor, the baby's head way beyond a full crown but not quite fully born. She huffed as she picked up the last remaining item, her body trembling as she reached up to place the small plate on the top of the machine, the crockery clinking as she shook whilst stretching up, desperately trying to get that final item in place and complete the challenge that had previously beaten her.

"YES!!!" She cried when the plate slipped onto the pile of clean dishes, and panted heavily with relief. Whoops and cheers rang out from the audience.

"You did it!!!! Well done Becky." Danny exclaimed. "Now, let's go to commercial break, giving our mothers a well-earned rest-" ...the sound of Mandy grunting and pushing in the background briefly interrupted the TV host... "-and also to let Mandy birth her baby girl. Be back in five, folks!"

~•~

Shortly thereafter, Danny and the contestants were lined up for the next challenge, each woman now standing in front of a wardrobe.

"Welcome back to Keep That Crown, where we've had an exciting first two rounds!" Danny announced. "Let's take a moment to check up on our contestants before we move on, shall we?"

He walked over to Anna, who was holding out strong, but definitely getting tired. She was sweating profusely and cradling her low, heavy belly.

"So, what are your thoughts on the challenges so far, Anna?" Danny asked.

"Umm...hmm." Anna muttered, obviously not focused on answering questions. "It's tough. But...hngggh...I think I can h-hold on."

"Let's hope!" Danny said, striding over to the next contestant. "And how are you feeling, Niamh?"

"Feeling good!" Niamh proclaimed, patting her belly. She was breathing heavier and a few beads of sweat could be detected on her forehead, but otherwise she was looking fine. "Ready for another round."

Danny nodded. "Well, that certainly was an impressive feat you pulled off in the last challenge!" He chuckled, then continued on to the last remaining contestant. "And, Becky..."

Becky was standing shamelessly in a somewhat bow-legged position, a massive bulge still in her leggings, as big as before and dripping fluid through her clothes. Surely she was only one small push away from birthing the head. Her whole body was practically shaking from the effort of keeping her baby in.

"...I'm just surprised that baby hasn't budged at all," Danny said frankly.

Becky grunted and her jaw clenched. "Just...get on with the- huuuhh- challenge," She grumbled, stowing one hand between her trembling thighs.

Danny returned to his side of the stage. "All right, time for round three! This one is the Dress-Up challenge. Each contestant has been provided with a wardrobe. Inside is a dress which you must change into, as if you were getting ready for your very own baby shower! Once that's complete, you'll have to return the dress and change back into your regular clothes."

The contestants gave each other exasperated looks. Getting changed is hard work for a pregnant woman even on a normal day... doing it while deep in labour was going to be tough.

"On your marks...get set...go!!" Danny hollered.

The women turned toward their wardrobes and opened them up. They each had an identical dress, with loose, thin cloth that was sure to fit their maternal bodies. Getting it on would be the hard part.

Becky grabbed the dress right away, but she looked over and saw the women next to her starting to take off their tops and bottoms. She looked over at Danny. "Uhh...do we need to strip down to our underwear for this challenge...?"

"Yes, that's usually part of getting changed..." Danny said with a chuckle. The audience laughed along with him.

Becky gulped. "Nngh...o-okay..."

Niamh had already removed her top and was shimmying her leggings down over her hips, leaving her in only a bra and panties.

Anna followed suit, but had to stop before getting her shirt over her head due to a contraction. She doubled over and groaned, gripping her belly. "Oohhh...hoo, God, I dunno if I can do this..."

Meanwhile, Becky was still looking between herself and the dress, only slowly starting to lift her shirt up as her baby's crowning head continued to burden her. It seemed the stress was getting to her.

Niamh sat her clothes off to the side and grabbed the dress. She paused for a contraction, but it barely seemed to phase her. She bent over a bit and exhaled deeply before quickly righting herself.

Anna was now struggling with getting off her leggings. She'd chosen to wear extra tight leggings, hoping they would help hold in the baby in an emergency. But now, after working up a sweat, the fabric clung to her. She was able to roll them down past her hips, but another contraction struck. She squatted just a tad, on shaky legs. "Mmmggghh come on!"

Beside her, Niamh had pulled the dress up over her head, knowing that was the only way it was fitting around her big twin bump.

Becky had only just removed her shirt. She was standing there in her bra and tented-out leggings, clutching her firm belly and muttering to herself.

"Becky?" Danny called out, not sure what was going on. "You should strip down a little quicker if you want to carry on with the challenge..."

Becky gulped again, then nodded. "O-okay..."

Anna had gotten her leggings to her ankles, but as she tried to kick them off, her belly cramped again and she fell forward onto her knees. She grimaced and cried out. "Nooooo aghhh I can feel it coming! I-I don't wanna puuush!"

"Folks, Anna says she doesn't want to push...but will her body agree?!" Danny wondered aloud. The audience focused their attention on the poor labouring woman.

Anna clenched her fists, grunting through the contraction. Now in just her panties, it was all the more clear that she was starting to bulge from the baby's head...

Suddenly, a gasp from the audience. "Wait...what's that? What's she wearing?!"

People turned their heads toward the cause of her outcry. The TV cameras pointed toward Becky, and Danny's jaw dropped when he saw what was happening.

Becky had gotten her leggings down to her knees but the act had revealed her secret weapon. Beneath her leggings and over her underwear, she was wearing a thick leather belt with material that went over her crotch.

Murmurs began to rise in the audience. "Is that... a chastity belt?" "For real? Is that allowed?"

Becky blushed, both from embarrassment and exertion.

Danny was flabbergasted. "Well, I've never seen this, folks...Becky was wearing a leather chastity belt the whole time!"

More audience comments. "Wow, how did she hide that?" "No wonder she was able to hold that baby in!"

"Now, as we know, cheating or giving yourself any unfair advantage is strictly against the rules..." Danny said solemnly. "So, I'm afraid that means I'm going to have to disqualify you from the competition, Becky."

Cameras zoomed in as tears welled in Becky's eyes. "I'm...sorry," she whimpered. "I just...wanted to win so badly this time...but- hnnnngggaaah!"

She was cut off as another contraction hit her. She fell to her knees, and it was clear she was pushing as hard as she could. But no matter how hard she pushed, the baby's head couldn't fully emerge with the leather in the way. She groaned heavily. "Gghh...but...I give up! I'm done! Someone- nngngghhh- just get this belt off of me! The baby needs to come OUT!"

The medics rushed over while the studio audience reeled from the chaos. The cameras turned back to Danny, who was still somewhat in shock. "Well, that was certainly something, folks! We have only two contestants remaining, now. Let's see how they're doing."

Neither Niamh nor Anna let themselves be too distracted by what transpired- they had more important things to focus on. Niamh had fully put on her dress and was taking a minute to pose in it for the cameras. Anna had resisted the urge to push for the time being, and was now grabbing her own dress. She adorned it in a very stiff manner, trying not to move around too much and risk wanting to bear down again.

Niamh removed her dress with ease, but as she was reaching for her original clothes again, a contraction gripped her. This time, she leaned against her wardrobe and groaned, rubbing her belly. She turned her head down and winced, and it looked like she may have finally been starting to falter.

"What are you feeling, Niamh?" Danny asked, trying to sound engaged again after the previous incident. "Hang on, you're almost there!"

"Mmghh...not pushing yet, Danny!" Niamh said, returning to her confident demeanour. She grabbed her clothes and stood back up fully.

Anna had gotten her dress on, but was hunched over again, cradling her swell. "Hooo...gghh...it wants to come out...s-so bad..." She glanced over at Danny. "Can I just...nngggh...keep the dress on?"

"The challenge isn't complete until you change back into your regular clothes!" Danny insisted. Anna groaned and began trying to strip the dress off.

Niamh was once more working at a surprisingly fast pace. With her dress cast aside, she was able to quickly get her clothes back on. It took a bit of time to wrestle her shirt back over her big bump, but once it was on, she raised her arms in victory. The audience cheered.

"It looks like Niamh has completed the challenge! That just leaves Anna- will she make it?" Danny announced.

Anna now had her shirt back on and was gripping her leggings in one hand, but she was riding through another contraction. She leaned on her arms against the wardrobe, her hips angled back.

"Ooohh...ooh, no, baby...nnggghh!" The labouring woman moaned. She tensed up, and her panties bulged out just slightly. The baby was starting to crown. "Guh...I just...gotta get these leggings back on..."

After a few rounds together and only two contestants left, the audience was getting invested. They began to chant, "Go! Go! Keep that crown!"

Mustering her strength, Anna bent down and started to put on her leggings. She was sweating, and it took a great deal of effort to pull the fabric up around her shaky legs. She grunted and panted, trying to keep her legs together long enough to get the leggings over her thighs and hips, even though she desperately wanted to spread them and push.

After a couple minutes of struggle, Anna was finally able to hike her leggings up tight around her waist. She felt between her legs and gave a small sigh of relief, knowing that there was more of a barrier over the emerging head now.

Danny clapped along with the audience. "Well done, Anna! That's round three done. Let's take a quick break and set up for the fourth challenge!"

~•~

“Welcome back to Keep That Crown.” Danny said straight to camera with his best showbiz smile. “If you are just joining us you have missed one hell of an episode so far; three babies born, a set of twins still on the way and our first case of cheating by chastity belt. You certainly won’t get all that on any other show!”

The camera zooms out and reveals Danny is standing between two heavily pregnant women. “We have two mums-to-be left in the competition - the lovely Anna on my left, expecting a little boy, and the incredible Niamh on my right, who is carrying twins. Now girls, we’re over half-way through the competition now and it’s just the two of you left. How are you feeling Anna?”

Standing behind her podium Anna pants heavily, her face flushed, gripping her belly and forcing a smile. “It’s— it’s definitely getting tougher. Hooooo… it’s so hard not to p-push….” Her feeble voice whimpers with another contraction and Danny takes the cue and turns his attention to Niamh.

“And Niamh, you have been storming through these challenges, and you are carrying two babies in there.” He nods and pats Niamh’s obscenely large belly drooping from her hips. “Have you been struggling to resist the urges to push as well?”

“Well having two of them in there certainly adds a level of difficulty but… mnnnhhh… it’s been okay so far. Just need to breathe through those u-urges…” Niamh’s confident words ring out across the studio but her knees bend subtly, her hands cupping the underside of her gravid swell as one of the baby’s head sinks and presses even lower.

“There are two more challenges to go. Let’s hope you both can make it through round four. For this challenge each of you will be given a baby doll, your task will be to change the baby’s nappy, dress the baby, and get them into the pram. Don’t worry Niamh, unlike real life you don’t have to do this twice. You each get one baby.”

The Irish mum laughed through gritted teeth, trying to keep her cool through the increasing contractions.

“If you two lovely ladies follow me.” Danny instructed, walking the labouring mothers to a new corner of the television studio. Both mothers were walking more and more bow-legged by the minute, but followed silently behind the host.

“As you can see there are three parts to this challenge; nappy change, dressing baby, and the pram. And I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking “Oh but Danny, you’ve forgotten to set up the prams” but we haven’t.” The TV host smirked to the camera and the audience at home. “Prams these days are so nifty, collapsing into the smallest space to fit easily into the boot of your cars. You will have to work out how to open the pram in order to safely strap your baby doll into the seat.”

Niamh nodded in understanding, her eyes already analysing the pram in question and its potential latches. Anna meanwhile looked hesitant, nervous, holding her belly and swaying her hips in rapid movements to try and alleviate the relentless pressure between them.

“Right, Anna you stand here. And Niamh you stand here.” Danny ushered the labouring women to their respective stations for the challenge. “Any questions?”

“C-can we get any h-help with the pram? Like a partner?” Anna stuttered, trying to steady her breath and her spasming womb.

“I’m afraid no help is allowed. You have to do all parts of this challenge by yourself. And you can’t leave the baby on the changing mat when you set up the pram, they could roll off, so you must carry them and put them in the pram.”

Anna paled briefly, looking like she might faint or throw up.

“On your marks… get set… go!!” Danny cheered and the tense but upbeat music of the challenge sounded around the studio.

It was neck-and-neck through the first part of the challenge, with both Niamh and Anna confidentially removing the nappy from the toy baby and wrapping a new one over the bottom half of the doll. They weren’t competing for the quickest time, they just had to complete the challenge from start to finish, but even without the time pressure the urgency was clear from the expressions of both women. They wanted this challenge done so they could be one step closer to birthing their babies.

Unsurprisingly, Niamh finished the nappy change first. The Irish mother was already an audience favourite and steaming ahead in this game. However, before she could pick up the baby clothes to dress the doll her eyes suddenly widened and she curled forward over her large twin-filled belly, gripping the edge of the wooden change table in a death grip.

“Mmmghhh— oh god!!!!” Niamh groaned loudly as her belly visibly contracted and squashed her babies lower towards their exit. “Fuck…. I can f-feel a head….hoohoohoo…”

“Oh no, looks like our fan-favourite is starting to struggle.” Danny said excitedly.

Groaning deeply. Niamh squeezed her grip on the changing table and screwed her eyes shut. “Nngh—! The pressure—” the Irish mother grunted and her knees dipped and widened.

Seeing her competition struggling, Anna bit her lip through the contraction and quickly pulled the clothing onto her doll and finished the first and second part of the challenge in rapid time. As she stepped towards the pram, the toy baby in arms, it was clear that Anna was racing against more than just her competitor. Her hand lowered, trembling with the effort of denying her instincts, and felt the partially crowned head. “Come on baby…. Just a little bit longer.” Her quiet words to her child were picked up on the microphone and an encouraging cheer erupted from the audience.

With one arm holding the fake baby, Anna had to work out how to open the pram single-handed. Huffing her way through contractions, red-faced and sweating, Anna pulled and twisted the handle but the pram remained in its collapsed state.

Niamh meanwhile had survived the aggressive contraction but in her desperation had clamped a hand between her thighs to try and keep herself from pushing. She was now attempting to dress the baby one-handed which wasn’t very successful.

“Niamh, you’re going to have to work with both hands if you want to keep your winning streak.” Danny said to the contestant over the audience's cheers.

“But— but it feels like the baby is slipping o-out….” Niamh was frazzled, overcome with the sensations of birth and her cool confidence was fast unravelling.

“Uh oh— Niamh says the baby is slipping out. What does she need to do ladies and gentlemen?” Danny asked the excitable studio audience who responded with a chorus of “KEEP THAT CROWN!”

“Ooohhhhhh…. Danny!!! The pram… it just w-won’t o-open!!!!” Anna shouted and the camera pans around to find her on her knees beside the collapsed contraption. The doll was wedged in an elbow so she could use both hands and she was frustratingly pulling and squeezing and twisting every inch of the pram trying desperately to unlock and open it.

“They do open Anna. They just have a little… knack to them.” Danny winked at the camera before it panned out to show both women struggling to open their prams while simultaneously crowning with their unborn babies.

“Jesus, who the fuck designed this thing?!” Niamh cursed as she pulled the handle expecting it to expand but grunted with frustration when it didn’t. The Irish mum-to-be had stuffed the toy doll down her top after dressing it, wedging it under her shirt between her breasts and belly in order to use both hands on the final part of this challenge.

“Ohhhhh god… this baby wants o-ouuttt….” Anna rocked on hands and knees, momentarily abandoning her pram and putting all her efforts into not giving birth.

Niamh wasn’t looking much better, grunting and occasionally placing her hands between her thighs when her body automatically pushed.

“This is going to be a close one ladies and gentlemen. Looks like both Anna and Niamh are pushing and it’s going to be a battle of willpower to see who makes it through this challenge.”

“Mmngghhh….. no— don’t come out—!” Anna grunted, pulling the waistband of her leggings up and making the fabric taut and unforgiving at the crotch, creating a barrier against the emerging head.

“Oh! Oh! I’ve got it!!” Niamh cried, finding the switch that when pressed allowed the pram to fully expand. “Anna… it’s on the left, by the l-logo…” Niamh panted as she pulled the fake baby out from under her top and almost threw it into the seat, quickly buckling the baby into the straps and clamping her hands between her thighs once more before the next contraction could strike.

Anna scrambled on her knees, searching for the latch Niamh had mentioned. The pressure between her hips was building, the baby certainly at a full crown in her underwear. “Ohhhh god…. I need to push….” Rocking on her knees Anna flailed her hands over the pram and with a cry of relief found the button and the pram popped open. Placing her fake baby in the seat and buckling it in, tears fell from Anna’s eyes as she trembled against the raging waves of her labour.

“Wow! Excellent work ladies; you have both completed the fourth challenge.” Danny announced, genuinely impressed that both contestants were still in the game. “Let’s take a quick break and we will be back with the fifth and final challenge. Who will keep that crown, and who will fall at the last hurdle? See you in five!”

~•~

“Welcome back to the final part of Keep That Crown, the only game show that’ll have you pushing babies instead of buttons. As you may have guessed, we are getting in the Christmas spirit for the fifth and final challenge.” Danny wiggles his head slightly and the camera pans out to reveal a red and white Santa hat on top of his perfectly styled hair. “We decided to change things up as the holiday season approaches and we have a festive final challenge for you this week. Don’t worry folks, it is a relatively simple task, but… doing it whilst deep in the throes of labour?…” The wide and wicked grin from the TV presenter shines bright across the studio right into the television screens to all the people at home. “This may be our toughest challenge to date.”

As Danny continued talking to the camera the distinctive sounds of groaning and heavy breathing in the background grew louder. Danny walks across the studio, followed by the camera, and stands beside the two remaining contestants who were both now dressed up as Mrs Santa Claus. In hourglass silhouettes, the red velvet cinched at the waist but stretched tight across their pregnant bellies, the hem finished with luscious white fur. The dresses were short, barely covering their hips, allowing a clear view of the tight leggings underneath. Niamh’s hands were still clamped between her thighs as she sweated profusely, panting erratically. While Anna was groaning, her hands splayed wide across the velvet surface of her belly as if she could just hold the baby inside.

“Ladies, I see you’re both dressed for the season.” Danny said cheerfully but his enthusiasm was not reciprocated. Anna’s face was blotchy and flushed as she held back her urges, sweat rolling down the side of her cheeks. Whereas Niamh looked fiery and frustrated, her knees dipping every few seconds, hands clamped firm at her crotch as she gritted “Get-on-with-it-!”

Danny put his hands up in mock-surrender “Okay, okay. Let’s get on with the final task…. The Christmas Tree challenge!” In a corner of the studio there were two large Christmas trees, over 10ft in height, and both were completely bare. Beside each tree was a box filled with all manner of decorations from lights and tinsel, to beads and baubles. “Niamh, Anna, your challenge is simple; to decorate the Christmas tree. Your Christmas trees must be completely decorated, from the lowest branches all the way to the highest. Your tree must have at least 3 different types of decorations and it must have the star on the very top.”

Two assistants on the show briefly came into shot, each placing a step ladder beside the trees and promptly running off stage. The ladders were clearly for the women to use in order to get to the very top of the Christmas tree. Anna visibly gulped with fear, while Niamh was staring at the floor very obviously pushing against her hand.

“I would usually speak with each of you before the challenge, but erm, I’m guessing neither of you are up for chit chat..?” Danny asked with a laugh and got a grunting response from the Irish mother-to-be. “Okay then. Let’s dive into the challenge. On your marks, get set, GO!”

Immediately Niamh waddled bow-legged and determined towards her tree, carefully removing one hand from between her legs and grabbing the set of Christmas lights from her box. Staggering side to side around the large tree, the labouring woman tossed sections of the lights with reckless abandon onto the different branches of the pine tree. Round and around she went adding the white lights up the tree but when she reached shoulder height she looked nervously up at the top of the tree, knowing what had to be done next. Niamh stood at the bottom of the step-ladder, gripping it tight with one fist while the other remained firm between her legs. She paused, waiting for the miniscule gap between contractions, before taking a hesitant step up the ladder.

Meanwhile Anna seemed to be struggling to put one foot in front of the other, her head was dipped low as she held her large bump and breathed heavily. She tried to move but a squeaking whimper came out instead.

“Come on Anna, you’re so close, don’t give up now.” Danny tried to encourage.

“Oooohhh… I can’t— move—” Anna said with a fearful whine.

Danny watched her struggle for a few seconds before taking pity on the girl and wrapped a supportive arm around her waist. “Come on, love. Let’s get you to your tree.” Angry voices came through the presenter’s earpiece as he then yelled to someone off screen “I’m just helping her get to the challenge, that’s all!”

When they reached her designated challenge area, Anna gripped onto the step ladder, her wide legs trembling with the effort of not giving birth. “I can’t help you anymore sweetheart, but you’re so close. You can do this.” Danny encouraged quietly. Anna nodded, breathing deeply, preparing herself for the final hurdle. Then she abruptly let go of the ladder and dived into the decorations box grabbing as much as she could carry and unceremoniously whacking the decorations along the bottom branches of the tree.

The Irish mother-to-be was now halfway up the step ladder trying to throw the Christmas lights around the top few branches of the tree. With a final effort she rose up onto her tiptoes and leant forward, lassoing the lights over the very top. The movement came with a price as a split second later the microphone caught her sharp gasp and the camera showed a clear bulge protruding between her thighs, her hand quickly moved to clamp hard against her crotch.

“Niamh….” Danny’s words were jokingly stern as he stood beneath her ladder. “Was that a head poking through?”

“No! Nnnghh— of course not. Still-ohhhh-very much c-crowning Danny!” She gritted loudly with a slight hiss through her teeth.

“Good girl, remember to Keep That Crown!” Danny said, getting the audience to join in, everyone soon chanting the show’s iconic catchphrase.

Over by the other tree, Anna had thrown all manner of decorations onto the bottom half of the pine tree. There was no style or strategy, the labouring woman frantically grabbing and hooking any decoration she could find onto the spindly branches. Sweat was dripping down her face and she took a breather at the decoration table, wiping her brow with the thick soft velvet of the sleeve of her festive costume. Anna lowered a hand between her legs, her eyes pinching hesitantly as she felt the crown of her baby’s head just inside her clothing.

“Stay there little guy.” She whispered, exhausted but determined.

“Anna, how are you getting on, sweetheart?” Danny asked, out of shot of the camera but carefully watching and narrating the scene to the audience at home.

“I’m— ohhhhhh— hanging in there. And…I’ve got an idea…” Anna said aloud, then surprisingly picked up the whole plastic box of decorations and carried it over and up the step ladder.

Gasps could be heard from the studio audience, impressed at her stamina and strength. Niamh looked up, worried at the reaction from the audience, and tried to look over at her competitor but couldn’t see past the thick branches of the tree.

Higher and higher Anna climbed, the box wedged into the curve of her waist beneath her outstretched arm. Then, upon reaching the top of the ladder, she loudly dumped the decorations on the top step. The labouring woman proceeded to stand half-way up the ladder, picking up each item from the box and hanging it onto a branch. Her mis-mash of decorations meant she was already meeting the criteria of the task - to have at least three different types of decorations. Whereas her competitor Niamh, having chosen to add lights, meant she was having to go around the whole tree again to add the decorations.

The tension in the studio could be cut with a knife, both women evenly matched in their birthing progress, but Anna was taking a surprisingly clear lead in completing the challenge.

“It's neck-a-neck on this final challenge folks, but who will come out victorious? Can both Anna and Niamh hold off from giving birth just that little bit longer…. Or will they fall at the final hurdle?” Danny riled up the studio audience who had started chanting support for their favourite contestant.

Anna was getting higher up the step ladder, getting closer and closer to finishing the challenge. But Niamh was faltering. Badly. She was still on the ground, trying painfully slowly to add decorations to the bottom half of the tree. To the camera she was partially hidden behind the thick branches of the Christmas tree, the odd flash of red and white from her costume coming in and out of view. Her deep, rumbling groans and grunts could be heard over the speakers, because even though she was hidden, the microphone she wore captured everything…

“nnnghhh—!! No! Don’t— gggrhhh—” the rough husky voice of the Irish mother-to-be echoed around the studio.

The flash of red velvet behind the tree appeared to be sinking lower and lower, heading towards the ground. Danny, wide eyed, rushed over and beckoned the cameras to follow.

“Oh…. Niamh….” Danny said as the camera showed everyone in the audience and at home the impending mother of twins.

Down on her knees, Niamh braced her thighs with both hands, her whole body trembling. Her ass was raised up off her heels and the round shape of a baby’s head was forming under her leggings as she pushed.

“Nnnnghhh—!!! It’s coming out—!!!!!” Niamh wailed, and then collapsed forwards onto her hands with a cry of relief when the head, very evidently, was born.

“That’s it folks, our fan favourite is now out of the competition.” Danny said brightly to the camera, before adding “Niamh, you should be very proud. You did amazing. You’ve set the bar extremely high for any other twin pregnancies that’s for sure.”

Niamh remained curled over on all fours, panting as she caught her breath, the medics rushing onto the studio floor to help her deliver her twins. The camera cuts back to Danny, who strolls between the Christmas trees talking to the audience.

“So, that leaves us with one mother-to-be left in the competition. Anna,” he called up the ladder to the last woman standing “if you can finish this challenge, you’ve done it.”

Anna was all the way up the ladder at this point, riffling through the box of decorations and throwing them haphazardly on the top few branches of the tree. The audience cheered and yelled, supporting and encouraging the last remaining contestant as she struggled through the final hurdle. She sagged against the ladder when the decorations were done, heaving deep breaths and gripping the ladder for dear life. When she started to descend the step ladder, Danny interrupted urgently.

“No! Anna, you still need to add the star at the top!!”

Anna looked like she was about to cry, or scream at him. Her whole body was trembling with the effort of not giving birth, the constant low rumblings from her chest as she fought the back to back contractions. With quaking hands she rummaged through the box, trying to find the star as quickly as she could. Every now and then she’d grunt involuntarily, resulting in tense gasps from the audience, the camera zooming in on her closely.

“Come on Anna, find that star! You can do it!” Danny yelled up the ladder. She held it proudly in the air when her hands found the glittery item and proceeded to step to the very top of the ladder. As she reached the top she fiercely threw the box of decorations to the floor to stand right on the highest step.

The whole studio was silent, breaths collectively held as they watched the labouring woman atop the ladder, stretching, reaching up and up and up, straining to get the star on the very top of the tree.

A wild cheer erupted as the decoration was put into its rightful place and Danny announced loudly; “YOU DID IT! Anna, you did it!! You’ve won £100,000!”

Anna didn’t even make it back to the ground before she was actively pushing and the head came out before her feet even touched the floor.

~ if you like & enjoy my work, please show support via my ko-fi 💜 ~

#well here ya go folks #the longest fic yet #enjoy the story #been writing this so long these girls are like my besties #birth kink #birth denial #birth fic #clothing birth #public birth #birth fiction #my writing #answered asks

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cjrae · 11 months ago

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Rank And Responsibility. Or: The Hairpin Scene from Jinshi's POV.

Be warned now about the consequences of choosing to do an English Lit degree - you end up doing lit crit for fun. With that in mind, let's break down the hairpin scene at the end of Covert Operations (Episode 5). Mild spoilers for Jinshi's arc are below.

While this moment does kick off the romantic subplot, with all the implications that giving Maomao the hairpin out of his own hair has, I would argue that this is not the moment Jinshi realizes he's in love with Maomao. Instead, from his point of view, this scene demonstrates how Jinshi handles failure.

Holding Power In An Open Palm

This is still very early in the story. Our first hint to Jinshi's true rank does come in this scene, but for now we know him as the manager of the Rear Palace. For the three thousand people who live and work there, for all intents and purposes, Jinshi is the highest authority they will encounter. He literally has the power of life and death over them, either directly in the case of the servants and eunuchs, or in the case of the consorts, his word to the Emperor directly can serve the same purpose. We also see Jinshi use this power early on - he's not just there to keep order, but also to test the consorts' loyalties and virtue. We never see what happens to the lower-ranked consort who attempted to invite Jinshi back to her room, but at the very least that report ensures that her already small chance of the Emperor choosing her as a potential mother of the nation is utterly cut off - and if she doesn't bear children, she will be discarded.

We also know that Jinshi will not hesitate to order corporal punishment if he views it necessary - for example, when Maomao discovers that the toxic face powder is still being used by Consort Lihua's ladies in waiting, she mentions in the aftermath that the eunuch who failed to recover the powder was flogged, while the lady in waiting who hid the powder is put in solitary confinement. These are brutal punishments - and if we consider the historical inspirations, these are also very restrained consequences. For hiding an item that caused the death of the prince (unfortunately, the more valuable child) and has put the life of one of the Emperor's favored High Consorts in danger, Jinshi would be utterly within his rights to order executions. If ignorance is a sin, ignorance in the face of knowledge is a greater one.

Microcosm of Li

For all that Jinshi holds his power lightly, he also takes the responsibility that power bestows upon him quite seriously. It's worth noting that Jinshi takes over governing the Rear Palace shortly after Maomao's service contract is purchased. (Remember, Xiaolan talks about the "beautiful, new eunuch that's been posted to the central courtyard," which tells us that Jinshi has not been in the Rear Palace long enough to become a fixture - he's an object of speculation and admiration from episode 1).

In context it's clear that, with the birth of two Imperial children, his job is to ensure the survival of the Imperial line and investigate why children of the Emperor are dying consistently in one of the wealthiest and safest places in the entire empire. We're shown him running in between Lady Lihua and Lady Gyokuyou to ensure that their very sick children are being seen to properly, investigating what could be causing it, while also managing tensions as rumors about the Emperor's children being cursed begin to spread and outright accusations of sorcery are being thrown between consorts. While the audience might immediately scoff along with Maomao at the idea of one consort cursing another, if Maomao hadn't found the cause of death, those types of accusations followed by Lady Lihua's and Princess Lingli's inevitable deaths could have ended with Lady Gyokuyou's execution.

The Rear Palace is a reflection of the nation as a whole. No Imperial heirs plus the deaths of two High Consorts with various foreign and domestic political ties had the potential to thrust the entire nation into chaos. Jinshi's choices have very real consequences, so when Maomao discovers what the true cause of death is and sends her warning, Jinshi looks at Maomao and doesn't see a person. He sees a "perfect pawn." A tool, one with talents that have ensured that at least one Imperial child has survived and providing a rational explanation why these children have died so that it can be prevented from happening again - and a skill set that can be turned to preventing any more shenanigans in the Rear Palace that could threaten the empire's foundation.

And, as Gaoshun points out, in the beginning of the hairpin scene, she is a toy. Maomao amuses Jinshi up until this point.

For all that Jinshi is shown wielding power with a light hand and a responsible mindset, it literally doesn't occur to him that the people working in the rear palace have stories - some tragic - about how they came to be there. They are resources to be used as befits the Emperor's (and therefore the nation's) need.

Hidden Beauty

When Maomao turns around and Jinshi doesn't recognize her until she speaks, he's shocked. He thought he knew exactly who and what this girl was - ugly and unremarkable, except for her intellectual brilliance and the challenge in managing her by other means than empty compliments and smiles. He attempts to recover and assumes that she is enhancing her looks - and is shocked again when he realizes that the face Maomao has presented to him so far is a protective mask against attracting attention. In a world where beauty is both a currency and a tool that others covet, Jinshi doesn't understand why Maomao would deliberately devalue herself like that. So she tells him.

This is the moment Maomao becomes a person to Jinshi.

Not a toy, not a pawn. Someone who has been ripped from her home and her life illegally and sold off. It's in this moment that Jinshi is forced to confront the ugly side of the society he lives in, people who would rape Maomao out of pure convenience or just take a "borderline marketable" girl off the street in order to get extra drinking money.

Worse, Jinshi is complicit in Maomao's captivity. The Rear Palace has bought her contract - and as the manager of the Rear Palace, Jinshi is responsible for everything that happens within its' walls. The fact that Jinshi does not personally oversee service contracts is irrelevant. The buck stops with him. If the Matron of the Serving Women or whoever is below her is buying these contracts without checking their sources, that is Jinshi's fault because he has allowed a lax enough system to flourish. He has failed to govern this microcosm of the nation wisely, with thought for the welfare of the least powerful among his people. Worse, he has failed to even notice the problem - Maomao may say she's angry about having been kidnapped and sold, but she doesn't react in a way that indicates anger. Instead, she's resigned. Yes, what happened to her was wrong and she's angry about it, but there's literally nothing she or Jinshi can do.

Or Is There?

Jinshi offers Maomao two apologies, the first of which is our first hint to his true status. "I'm sorry we couldn't police them better." Maomao immediately blows off this apology - she points out that there's no way Jinshi should have known and has a very "all's well that ends well" attitude about her situation - her contract will be up eventually and in the meantime she's managed to land in a fulfilling role. Essentially Maomao is telling Jinshi that this apology is not his to make - he's overstepping his responsibility. And, if Jinshi were simply the manager of the Rear Palace, she would be right. It's his job to ensure that the Rear Palace is properly staffed, not to regulate that all contracts comply with the law.

Jinshi apologizes again. This time, he offers no other context. He doesn't accept Maomao's absolution of responsibility - because he knows (even if we, the audience, don't) otherwise. It can certainly be read as Jinshi refusing to accept easy absolution, and the rest of those witnessing the scene, apart from Gaoshun, certainly take it that way.

Instead, he takes the hair stick from his own hair and places it in Maomao's. Their entire relationship has just been upended; Maomao is a person who has been gravely wronged and it is Jinshi's responsibility to begin to make it right. Aside from the personal implications of giving her the hairpin (and the faint blush on his face makes it clear that he's aware of them), it is a form of restitution. There is an unspoken social contract Jinshi is offering that Maomao does not understand in the slightest. It never occurs to her that Jinshi would do something for her with no thought of what he would receive in return, because of the difference in their social ranks. But, from Jinshi's perspective, that social difference is the point. He has failed her and, as the person of higher rank, it is his responsibility to do what is within his power to begin to remedy the situation in front of him.

And, of course, in that moment he sees Maomao in a new light, the other meaning of gifting her his hairpin has fertile ground to take root in Jinshi's mind.

#the apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto #jinshi #maomao #jinmao #long text post #apothecary diaries meta #kusuriya anime #knh #jinshi x maomao #jinshi and maomao #lady gyokuyou #lady lihua #princess lingli #gaoshun #hair pin #episode 5 #covert operations

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hiddenlife-manager · 10 months ago

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Hii! I love your fics and was wondering if you’d do a pt2/blurb of one of them? The one where lando is jealous of oscar and reader, and they have jealous sex afterwards? Well I was wondering if you could write something for afterwards where lando is insecure and reader comforts him that she’d never actually leave him for oscar. Its fine if you dont want to do it just liked the idea so I thought Id share it.

Aftercare Lando x FemReader

cw... aftercare, past mention of sex, fluff, comfort, slight jealousy, oscar being a problem, etc...

notepad... I don't often do story things mainly cause it doesn't get much interest in the audience. So if this gets as big as my other smuts of lando then you might have me on board hehe.

Part One

He was sitting up tense, the both of you completely naked. It was clear that even if you let him take out his anger on you sexually, he hasn’t fully recovered. Your lips were aligned with his neck, slowly trailing down to his shoulders. You were attempting to ease him up a little. You two were exhausted, but you wanted to comfort the man you had come to love.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked calmly, massaging his other shoulders as your breasts were pressed against his back. You know what was on his mind, and you wished for him to explain it so you could speak to him in all contexts.

“Nothing…” He trailed off; he was low in his tone, and you sighed as you pressed your head on his one shoulder.

“You know you can’t hide a little thing from me.” You knew it was wrong to press, but you had to. “If it is about Oscar, just tell me.”

“Of course it is about Osc. He is nothing but my competition. I am conflicted.” You brushed his air a bit as you took a deep breath in.

“The rookie who impresses all who watch,” you chuckled, kissing his shoulder. “It reminds me of someone. Sure, he is competitive, but so are the rest of the drivers. You already signed a multi-year contract with McLaren; you have nothing to fear.” You attempted to comfort him, but he truly continued to be tense.

“This is my life racing. Oscar is a good guy, but all he does is make me realize I am temporary if I don’t show results. Look at him, flirting with you. He lost Lily, and now he is after everything in my life. His helmet is similar to mine, and I had to change it to be different.” He began to tell you all in his mind, and he realized it was eating him up.

“And…” You rolled your eyes and sighed. “So what? Isn’t that the point of the sport? Training to be better and not lose your seat. This job isn’t forever, Lando. He is your partner, and competition treats him as such. Stop worrying about such trivial things as helmets. I know one thing: you deserve the seat. That being said, what is so wrong about leaving Mclaren and branching in the future?" You kissed his neck once more and left a mark. “I would never leave you for Oscar. He may be hot, but you are hotter and have such a nice morning voice.” You whispered into his ear.

He was quiet and a bit surprised you told him so straight forward. But you were like that always, and you meant well. He laughed and grabbed you, pinning you to the bed. You screamed a bit and sighed.

“You are right. These worries are annoying.” He kissed your lips and sighed. It was a beautiful night in Monaco. All he wanted was to cuddle you. “Let's just rest; fuck the others.” He laid beside you and pulled you in closer. His voice is low and perfect.

“I love the way you speak.” You mumbled as you rested your head on his chest. “Don’t stop.”

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misscammiedawn · 4 months ago

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Thinking about Furudo Erika and the "without love it cannot be seen" quote again.

Many attribute Erika as a criticism on the Sherlock style sociopathic detective and to an extent that's true but she's more important as a symbol of the contract between the author and audience as elaborated in Chapter 7 of Umineko.

The author promises not to trick the audience with bad faith mystery writing and the audience must promise in return to approach the fiction with sincerity and accept the universe that the author writes.

It takes two to create a world. One to create it and one to acknowledge it. Without love it cannot be seen.

Erika is the munchkin rules lawyer at the TTRPG table who wants to "win" what should be a collaborative storytelling experience. She represents disrespecting the fiction and trying to "win" at the mystery by peeling apart the narrative at the seams. Refusing to acknowledge the imagination of the author and forcing them to engage with reality on their terms.

The Great Detective trope is just fine. But they have to be a part of the world they are in and play by its rules and respect both the fiction and the audience. Like Will does.

To engage with the story and have faith in the author is to love and with that you can see the story being told.

I feel this should apply to all storytelling. Approach all fiction with love. Go on a ride with the author and see where they take you. If they respect you, I promise it'll be more fun.

#dawn posting #umineko #furudo erika #erika furudo #ahaha.wav

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pregobirthlvr · 3 months ago

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Public shower birth

• ————— •

Possible TW: this story contains some noncon themes (unwanted exhibitionism)

Also contains: pregnancy, birth, labor, public birth,

• —————————————— •

I grip the handles of the shower stall. A public pool bathroom was not the place I wanted to have this baby but it had different plans. Thankfully it was early enough there weren’t that many people around to see what was happening. Still, I tried to keep quiet behind the sound of running water and the thin plastic curtain that covered the shower stall.

I could feel the next contraction start to rip through me. I gasp and grab the bars harder. I squat down slightly and push hard. I shake and writhe around while I somehow find it in me to push. I make it to the end of my contraction when I hear the door open.

“What was that noise?” A man’s voice said.

I tried to hide my breathing even more and think to myself ‘Did I enter the wrong bathroom… I thought the ones restrooms were on the right.”

I tried to think back. Suddenly I remember I stumbled and got turned around at the entry way from a large contraction. I must have walked into the wrong bathroom by mistake.

I didn’t have time, nor the ability to fix it now. I tried to fix the curtain to close as much as I could. It wasn’t very effective to begin with but I was mostly covered. I didn’t have time to fuss with it, I now had to focus on my next contraction.

The next contraction came just as one of the men that walked in appeared in the stall next to me. I grab harder at the bar in the shower and try my hardest to stay quiet. I end up squatting and buring my face in my arm to get through. I labor again a few moments later the man still in the stall next to me. Then again and again.

Finally, I hear the water turn off and I let out a sign of relief. It was short lived when I hear the foot steps of a second man approaching.

“Hey you don’t yet?” Another man voice said.

“Yeah I’m about to hop out,” The first man said back.

They started to mess around, and I tried my best to tune them out as another contraction started. I grip the bars again and spread my legs wide. My concentration was abruptly ruined when the two men ripped the curtain to my shower stall down.

I let out a gasp. My focus now pulled away from being quiet, I let out a deep loud moan as my contraction reaches its peak. With the curtain down, I try to cover myself up, which wasn’t working in the middle of a contraction. It didn’t help that the men that just ruined my privacy were now staring at me. Just watching me push and grunt my baby out.

“Please don’t look,” I say blushing and panting hard after my contraction.

Neither of them said a word. They just stared at my body.

“Please don’t look at-“ I get cut off by another contraction. I push hard the lips of my vagina spreading around the babies head.

When I stop pushing the head sinks back in. “No. No. No. please stay out…” I beg.

I gently sit back leaning against one of the walls legs spread to my onlookers. When I realize the position I’m in I try to start scooting across the floor to get more privacy. I get stopped almost immediately by another contraction.

I toss my head back and cry out. I instinctively spread my legs and push hard. I scream and grunt my way through the contraction. I shakily reach down and feel between my thighs. The babies head was half way out.

“Please help me,” I beg to the men.

“I think you’re doing a great job all on your own,” one says.

“Yeah you’re doing amazing,” The other one says.

Another contraction cut of any attempt for me to try and plead for it. I braces myself and pushed hard again. I was exhausted but this baby had to come out.

“Almost done,” I gasp out. I look up to see my audience has grown. Two more guys have showed up just in time to see me push this baby out.

With another big push the head popped free. A gush of fluids splattered the floor and flowed down the shower drain. I took a moment to breathe then pushed again the shoulders and body sliding the rest of the way out of me and into my hands.

I lay on the shower floor with my baby on my chest when I finally hear someone say “maybe we should call an ambulance.”

#birth kink #pregnancy kink #labor kink #preg kink #pregnant kink #public birth #birthing in public #shower birth #exhibition kink

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venus-haze · 1 year ago

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You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!”

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd.

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor.

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too.

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you.

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room.

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set.

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in.

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back.

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys tv #the boys amazon #homelander #homelander the boys #the boys

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burningred1989 · 2 months ago

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EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE

A/N: Final part of “A Budding Connection”

“Every breath you take, every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you.”

PART 1: A Budding Connection

PART 2: The Shift

P ART 3: Bridges to Mend

PART 4: Cracks in the Wall

PART 5: The Contract Ends

MASTERLIST

<<<<<

Years after their heart-wrenching breakup, Y/N and Harry lived their lives apart, both navigating stardom with aching hearts. Though the world saw them as two separate entities, fans knew better. Their music told the story of a love that refused to die, lingering in the silences between the notes and the longing woven into their lyrics.

<<<<<

"Every breath you take, every move you make..."

The applause echoed throughout the room as Y/N’s name was announced as the winner of Album of the Year. Dressed in an elegant gown, she gracefully made her way to the stage, clutching her award tightly. The cameras panned to Harry, seated in the audience, clapping harder than anyone else. His green eyes sparkled with pride, but there was something deeper—a longing, an ache that hadn’t faded over the years.

"Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you."

As Y/N delivered her speech, she thanked her team, her fans, and her family. Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly. Then, as she concluded, her gaze scanned the room until it landed on Harry. For a moment, time seemed to stop. Her lips curled into a small, shy smile—her nose scrunching in that way Harry used to adore.

Harry’s heart clenched. He returned the smile, his pride unmistakable, though his eyes revealed the silent pain of knowing he could never be part of her life again.

<<<<<

"Since you've gone, I've been lost without a trace”

A year later, Harry’s name boomed through the speakers as he was awarded *Album of the Year*. The audience erupted in applause, but it was Y/N’s reaction that captured everyone’s attention. She rose to her feet immediately, clapping enthusiastically, her face glowing with pride.

“I dream at night, I can only see your face..."

As Harry walked to the stage, his eyes darted toward Y/N. She stood in the front row, her hands clasped together in front of her chest. Her gaze was locked on him, her expression soft and warm, as though she was silently cheering him on.

“I look around, but it's you I can't replace..."

When Harry began his speech, his voice was steady, but his emotions were barely contained. He spoke about the importance of connection and love in his music, his voice faltering slightly when he mentioned how loss shapes the art we create. Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she nodded gently, understanding his words on a level no one else could.

As the cameras panned back to Y/N, her proud expression lit up the room. But for Harry, her look was more than that. It was a quiet acknowledgment of everything they’d shared, everything that still lingered between them.

<<<<<

“Oh can’t you see, you belong to me. How my poor heart aches, every step you take”

The internet exploded. Fans dissected every moment from both Grammy nights, piecing together the silent story unfolding between Harry and Y/N. Edits began circulating, their interactions paired with the hauntingly fitting lyrics of "Every Breath You Take" by The Police.

The first scene showed Harry clapping with longing eyes as Y/N walked to the stage, her radiant smile lighting up the room. The second scene cut to Y/N standing proudly, her hands clasped in front of her, watching Harry accept his award. With the text in front—“I’ll be watching you”

<<<<<

"Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you."

Clips of their stolen glances and subtle smiles were seamlessly paired with the lyrics. Fans couldn’t stop talking:

- *"The way he looks at her—he’s still in love."*

- *"Y/N’s smile when she saw him on stage… my heart!"*

- *"This edit with ‘Every Breath You Take’ is so hauntingly beautiful. It’s like they’re still watching over each other."*

<<<<<

“Every single day, every word you say..."

Harry and Y/N returned to their separate lives, but the echoes of their love remained. Fans scoured their music for hints of each other, piecing together lyrics that spoke of heartbreak, longing, and quiet admiration. Their love, though lost, was immortalized in their art.

"I'll be watching you."

Neither Harry nor Y/N ever acknowledged the Grammy interactions or the viral edits, but they didn’t need to. The connection was still there, unspoken yet undeniable, like a melody that never fades. And as the years went by, the world continued to watch their story unfold—two hearts forever linked, even in their distance.

A/N: Thank you for reading!! <33

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leaf-kei · 6 months ago

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NO ONE ASKED FOR MY TF2 VOICE ACTOR OPINIONS

but I really like the way Robin Atkin Downes characterizes Medic while he’s improvising! His interpretation basically lines up with my own—that Medic’s a silly, dorky guy who IS crazy and disturbed, but ultimately means well and cares about his friends. I love how parental Robin’s Medic is to Archimedes… in one livestream he did (which consisted of him contemplating performing surgery on Archimedes with a pizza cutter???), he threw the plush across the room while yelling “fly, my little prince, fly!” and I just like that. I think thats something Medic would say. He’s a weird dork alright

I also like the way he and Gary Schwartz play around with their relationship! They squabble in a very predictable and harmless way, and they’re always making cheesy romance-related jokes (like Heavy telling Medic he thinks they should seek counseling). I don’t think they’re actually that invested in the ship—which is fine, they don’t have to be—but the potential for humor in it is obvious, and they play into that well. The story of TF2 is so wacky and violent that having the characters experience moments of relatable mundanity is surprising and cute. In the Poker Night game, Heavy has a line like “I live in Red barracks. It’s nice! We have foosball table!” and imo heavymedic is funny for the same reason. Contract killers also play foosball, and they also fall in love, and they also have constant tiny arguments with their partners which annoy their friends

…And as far as dirty jokes and innuendos go (there have been lots lol), Heavy’s always suave and forward while Medic’s prudish and oblivious, which I also like a lot??? It’s probably because revealing the muscle brawn gun guy to actually be smooth and romantic is funny (and Medic constantly shooting down Heavy’s suggestions might be a result of Robin being kinda embarrassed and not sure if it’s okay to make these jokes in front of an audience lol)… but i think it converges in a great way ok. These guys just happen to keep replicating my own headcanons for these characters. im Eating

#tf2 #heavymedic #red oktoberfest #team fortress 2 #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #just rambling bc my sleep schedule's fucked #heavy x medic

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 8 days ago

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“I’ll be good, I’ll be good…”: Victorian Medicine and Society in “Nosferatu” (2024)

This film has several points of view to present the story; because it’s a non-linear and intricate narrative, filled with unreliable narrators. The story is mostly dominated by the “Victorian point of view” (with the humans characters), because Robert Eggers’ concept with his films is to transport the audience to the time his films take place; it’s way of thinking, behaving and believing.

Victorian society is represented by the Hardings (the perfect Victorian family) and Thomas Hutter, and Victorian medicine by Dr. Wilhelm Sievers, who calls himself a “modern doctor”, in the sense that he embraces the latest medicine trends of the early 19th century (obviously).

When Ellen is having what the Victorian doctors classify as “epilepsies” caused by her “troubled nerves” or “hysteria”, she’s communicating with Orlok, as confirmed by Von Franz: “The pupil is expanded. It does not contract naturally to the light. […] A second sight. She’s no longer here. […] She communes now with another realm.”

Her “hysterical fits” mirror the Trance-like states of Pagan priestesses (Trance mediumship), and that’s why she gets compared to one, by Von Franz later. Ellen trances aren’t only physical; they are, mostly, spiritual, and Orlok talks to her, too.

However, during her scene with Thomas, she breaks off her trance when he, not knowing what to do, says he’ll fetch Dr. Sievers to help. A doctor that will contain her with drugs and/or binding her to the bed. And she doesn’t want that, so she promises she’ll be good, as she ends her communication with Orlok.

And this is the first time we see something like this happening, because, until this point, it seemed like Ellen didn’t had any control over her trances. But this scene proves that she does, she can snap out of it, at will. But why doesn’t she, more often? Probably because of what Lily-Rose Depp says in this interview. And how Robert Eggers says Ellen doesn’t hide her sexuality. This scene also proves something else: it wasn’t Thomas that “blocked” Orlok; it was Ellen herself.

Lina Muir, the costume designer, talked about the importance of Ellen’s corset to the plot in a interview with “The Art of Costume”:

One example of costume design serving the plot, as you mentioned, is Ellen’s corset. I came across a particular style called a fan-laced corset during my research, which I’ve also referred to as a “self-tying corset”—though it doesn’t actually tie itself! This type of corset can be tightened from the front, allowing the wearer to adjust it independently. For Robert, this design was ideal. When Ellen is in the throes of her supernatural connection with Orlok, the men around her—Sievers and Harding—try to impose control by tightening her corset. Because of the fan-laced design, we can see her anguish and convulsions, as well as the men’s oppressive actions, without needing to obscure her face or body by laying her prone. This moment is a perfect example of how research and storytelling can come together harmoniously in costume to enhance a scene.

And, indeed, we see Ellen corset consume her, to the point she tries to break free from it during this scene with Thomas:

This is Ellen desperately trying to break free from Victorian society expectations and medicalization of her. She wants freedom, she wants to be herself in a society which will never accept her, and will always restrain her (metaphorically and literally) not only with drugs and tying her to the bed, but with gender roles of marriage and children (a major theme in Female Gothic literature). And she wants Thomas to understand this, but he can’t (like Robert Eggers tells us in several interviews). He’s unable to handle the situation, and his reaction is to do what Victorian society tells him; call the doctors.

We also see Ellen grabbing her corset, while Dr. Sievers is tightening it to restrain her, trying to stop him from doing so.

Those unfamiliar with Victorian medicine, it’s a wild ride. Victorian doctors were obsessed with demonizing sexuality (especially female) to the point endless pathologies (diseases) were theorized about it, and it was during this time period the notion of “paraphilias” was created. Female sexuality was seen as a plague and a monstrosity in need of containment, because the ideal Victorian woman was a model of virtue, purity, virginity and modesty; who didn’t take pleasure in sexual activities.

Married heterosexual sex was the only socially acceptable sexual expression in the Victorian era, and everything else (masturbation, homosexuality, prostitution, etc.) was considered deviant, and labeled as “sinful” and “evil”. Sex was a marital duty, and often seen as a painful task women had to go through to have children, because being a submissive wife and a mother was women’s role in Victorian society. Women served their husbands, including sexually. Regular sex was considered important to men’s health, and husbands could beat and rape their wives without fear of legal repercussions, because the husband owned the wife, according to the law. In the early Victorian era (in which “Nosferatu” takes place), women’s sexuality was controlled by their husbands. Marriage was considered of the pillars of patriarchal society and social order, and a social contract, above all.

The fear of sexual transmission diseases was also at a all time high during the Victorian era. Which is also connected with vampirism lore; a “disease of the blood”. STD’s were seen as a sign of civilizational failure, and sexuality itself by extension. A decent Christian knew how to control their impulses, and sexual impulses were seen as animalistic, uncivilized and demonic. Von Franz tells demons seek out and haunt those who are dominated by “low animal functions”, meaning, sexualized. And this encapsulates Victorian views of sexuality.

Which is also connected to the 19th century racist theories. Where indigenous civilizations, with their Pagan-shamanic ancestral religions and traditions, were seen as “uncivilized”, “animalistic” and “demonic”, and hence the “Western Christian white man” was superior. It also during this period the notion of “The White Man's Burden” is born, connected to Colonialism, because it’s the Christian white men destiny to civilize non-white peoples, by erasing their culture and heritage, and violently impose Christianity upon them (even among fellow Europeans, who weren’t considered “white”).

It’s no coincidence the character who’s deemed the “villain” in this story is a Eastern European Pagan sorcerer and a Pagan creature (strigoi). Orlok, the Pagan sorcerer from the “uncivilized” East of Europe comes to the West to bring blood plague and death, threatening the lives of the good and moral Christian white men. As a Pagan, he’s also demonized as a “devil worshiper” by the Christian characters (even though his sigil and coat of arms has no satanic symbols). The Victorian characters see him as a demon terrorizing a woman, and Ellen as a poor victim of his sexual perversion, of his sickness. Ellen is in “grave danger” Von Franz tells the audience.

The Victorian characters victimize and patronize Ellen; she’s blameless because she’s “sick”, she has a “disease” she’s not able to control. Anna says she’s innocent, a “sweet Romantic” and Von Franz calls her a “child” repeatedly. Then, they come to the conclusion Ellen is “cursed” and needs to be saved and protected from this sickness, from this “plague carrier” who is trying to corrupt her by inflicting sexual pleasure (sickness and shame) upon her, threatening to turn her into a demon. It’s even reassuring to these characters that this “creature” happens to be a Eastern European, strengthening the idea of Ellen’s innocence and victimhood at his hands.

Why? Because Victorian women were expected to be innocent, ignorant and naïve about the world. And if a woman wasn’t innocent, she should pretend to be, which is what we see with Ellen, as she accuses Orlok of corrupting her innocence (making her “unclean”) and of being “her shame”, even though she’s the one who grants and denies him access to places (strigoi folklore). The average Victorian woman wasn’t allowed to be educated nor possess knowledge outside of the domestic. A woman’s entire life revolved around men: obeying their fathers, preparing for marriage, seeking an husband and as a wife, living for her husband.

An important historical note: we are talking about middle and upper class women here. Working class and poor women had to work, the same as men, and children. And poverty was also seen as a moral failure by Victorian society.

Friedrich Harding, however, is not so convinced of Ellen’s innocence and naivety, and he resents her because of what she represents; not only “otherness”, or “sickness”, but mostly female sexuality. He’s allowed to be sexual and display sexuality because he’s a man; Ellen cannot because she’s a woman. Friedrich is not convinced because he recognizes his own nature in Ellen (“rutting goat”; “always hungry”): “her dashing young husband is leaving her bedside cold” as he jokes with Thomas before his departure. And he tells Ellen himself: “I am most sensitive to your ardent nature”.

And he doesn’t want her anywhere near his wife, nor their children, and reluctantly accepts this friendship between them, probably out of respect for his dear friend, Thomas. In the Harding household, we also see the strict gender separation; the women and children in one room, and the men in another, drinking and smoking. It’s the domestic sphere vs. public/social life.

Friedrich Harding sees Ellen as a bad influence on his wife and children, and as a social embarrassment to Thomas, as he chastises Ellen for her behavior: “Find the dignity to display the respect for your caretaker” and “And for your husband’s sake, I pray you might learn how to conduct yourself with more deference.” He also instructed Anna to keep Ellen away from their children, and wasn’t pleased with his wife disobedience, however he’s too passionate about her to be angry about it (“I cannot resist you, my love”). Because virtue and decency were the Victorian ideals, and a woman’s reputation was said to be her greatest treasure. And since husbands owned their wives, the wife’s behavior would reflect on the husband.

Harding also considers Ellen a burden on their household, which Anna herself agrees, but she loves her, and, as such, endures her because Ellen is a decent married woman, and, as such, blameless of her disease.

These choice of words aren’t random from Eggers’ part, because this is Victorian female role model in a nutshell. Victorian Christian women endured everything out of “love”, considered the opposite of “passion”, which the sacrament of marriage was meant to repress and contain, alongside erotism and “animalistic impulses” (sexual desire), especially when women are concerned. In the Victorian era, “love” was considered tempered devotion confined to the household. Because ��lust isn’t love” is a staple of the Victorian definition of “love”, and so, love was meant to be chaste, modest and restrained. And initiated by the men (who could be as lustful as they wished to be, as we see with Friedrich Harding character).

The Hardings are also the couple Ellen and Thomas wish to emulate, because that’s what Victorian society expects of them. Thomas admires and aspires to become like Friedrich; a successful man, with a good and wealthy house, and a devoted and comfortably settled wife, who elevates his social respectability.

And so, Thomas dismisses Ellen’s concerns as “fancies” and “things of the past”, sweeping them under the rug to make them go away, and pretending they don’t exist: “Ellen, we have put these difficulties behind us” and “Never speak these things aloud. Never. It is a trifle. A foolish dream, just as your past fancies.” He fears her “past melancholies” might return, symbolizing his failure as a husband and a man, before Victorian society.

For Victorian men, marriage was the institution where they could fully accomplish their male privilege: to form a household, exercise authority over dependents (wife and children) and provide safety and comfort where the trademark of a successful man (gender role). This was also connected to their social and professional success, making them respectful in the eyes of other men. A man who couldn’t govern his wife was also seen as unfit, socially, professionally and morally.

And this is Thomas ambition: he wishes to climb the social ladder, being “no longer a pauper” who has to ask his wealthy friend, Friedrich, for money, drowning himself in debt. As he tells Ellen, he aspires to buy them “a fine house” of their own (implying the one they live in, will probably rented), with “a maidservant”. Ellen says she’s doesn’t need any of that, all she needs is his love: and, indeed, she married “down”, because Ellen comes from a wealthy family, and we see the contrast between her family house in the prologue (a manor), and the small apartment she shares with Thomas (with old and damaged wallpaper).

And now, we have the context of Ellen scene with Thomas: this entire scene is her putting his Victorian male identity into question. She accuses him of not writing, which means she’s accusing him of not loving her, because letters were a part of Victorian love ideals. Then, Ellen weaponizing Thomas’ ambition against him: “You never listen. Well where is it? Your money? Your promotion? Your house? Where is that which is so precious to you? Have you paid back kind Harding your debt? Have you repaid him with this plague that infects his wife? For what? For what? For these... things?!” What she’s truly accusing him, here, is of being a failure, as a husband, and as a man in Victorian society.

During this scene, we see the extent of Orlok’s connection with Ellen, too, as she reveals some things he says to her, and even weaponizes them against Thomas: “He told me about you.” And calls him “weak”, “fearful” and reveals she knows about Orlok attack on him, and further questions his masculinity (she compares him to a “swooning lily of a woman”).

And Ellen breaks off her communication with Orlok when confronted with the threat of more drugs and imprisonment; and she promises she’ll be good, which echoes with what Friedrich Harding told her, earlier: “Find the dignity to display the respect for your caretaker”. She’ll try to be a good Victorian wife for him, as she has tried to be until recently. But then gives him the final insult of saying: “You could never please me as he could.”

And Thomas has sex with Ellen, symbolically establishing his ownership over her. She’s his wife, she belongs to him, not to Orlok. And now she weaponizes this against Orlok, as she tells Thomas to let him see their love, because this is the kind of love Ellen wants, and craves. And then asks Thomas to kiss her heart, but he refuses. Then, she kisses Thomas heart, where Orlok fed on him, and Thomas has a vision of Ellen, as Orlok (like he did in the castle just before Orlok attacked Thomas), and begs her to stop it.

Thomas promises Ellen is safe with him, because he’s a good Victorian husband who can protect and govern his wife. She can trust him to protect and rescue her from this Eastern European demon, because he’ll step up to his role, destroy and save his wife from danger, like he’s suppose to. His entire male identity depends on it.

This is also the “second night”, where the perfect Victorian patriarch Friedrich Harding is powerless to protect his wife and children from Orlok. Just as Ellen vows and fails to embody the “Victorian wife role model”, we see Orlok killing this archetype in the narrative: Anna, and also the children, which are deeply connected with women’s identity in the Victorian era. Ellen gave him access into the Harding household, and, now, he’ll destroy the archetype Ellen doesn’t want to be. He also feeds on Friedrich; the perfect Victorian patriarch Ellen doesn’t want to be married to, but Thomas aspires to be.

When Victory society archetypes come together to destroy Orlok, Von Franz studies Ellen’s reaction to their plan. Because he’s the character who put “two and two together” concerning who summoned and unleashed Orlok (Ellen) and he just discovered Orlok plan by reading the Şolomonari codex of secrets he found in Herr Knock’s office: Orlok seeks to break his own curse and set his spirit free, and he wants to take Ellen’s spirit with him. Von Franz doesn’t tell Ellen about these instructions, only to be true to her own nature. He also tells her she’s not meant for Victorian times, where she’ll always be ostracized and demonized: she could have been a great priestess in Pagan times. But the modern world has no place for beings like her, or Orlok. But, still, she’s their salvation.

#Nosferatu 2024 #Robert Eggers #Ellen Hutter 2024 #Thomas Hutter 2024 #friedrich harding #anna harding #Victorian era #Victorian society #Victorian medicine #count orlok 2024

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