#then almost all of them got their money wasted bc they weren’t allowed in

[sokkas-therapist]

Hi hi hi! I have a quick poll question for all the Atla fans that were at Comic Con Revolution today!

If you got in, reblog and put in the tags what time you got in line. If you didn’t, reblog with how long you were in line for, and or what you heard/were told regarding wristband distribution. I’m genuinely curious, lol

Me and a couple hundred other people were in line for over 2 hours and didn’t get in 😭

[simplaertes]

OKAY here it is breakdown/rant over the rh apology.

 bright side is looking up the waste of a tweet led me to see SEVERAL ah members reactions (presumably, they were pretty understandably vague tweeting) and they were so funny fdksal;fa; 

anyways. back to the angry and depressing stuff. (under a read more ofc)

tl;dr: it was incredibly narcissistic and had some pretty clear hallmarks of complete manipulation. but like, i cannot stress enough. the narcisissm

these past few days have been a difficult time

okay, starting off strong, basic, and lame. pretty usual call to sympathy (boo hoo things have been hard for me) 

but also, a little hidden here and VERY manipulative, is that he’s starting off with a relatable statement. “difficult time” yeah they sure fucking have been. anyone else saying that, we would all agree! it’s a textbook way to start off manipulation

without knowing exactly where to start...

ooooh here is where it starts getting interesting: this is what i like to call “anti-ethos” so in argumentative stuff, ethos is basically the plea to respect/authority/competence/etc. but this right here is the OPPOSITE of that... so what does THAT mean?

basically, it’s there as both a cop-out and another, subtler plea for understanding. “please be nice to me” it begs “i don’t know what i’m doing.” it’s a simple, one sentence way to buy yourself some leeway when you know what you’re abt to say isn’t the best. it’s like having to present in class and starting with a “well, i’m not entirely sure this is what was wanted....” it gains allowance from your audience in a sneaky kind of way

i want to say that i know i let a lot of people down, including those that i am closest too

textbook. it’s all so textbook it’s almost boring. the move here is he’s made himself look like he’s taking accountability and apologizing without doing EITHER of those things. also, look at those fantastic i-statements. “i want, i know, i let, i am” it’s just all about him, like always

also, great shoutout to the general language there: who did he let down? who is he closest too? it’s so incredibly vague. ALSO the way he says “let people down” is textbook downplay-- he doesn’t say what he did and phrases it to sound small, like a mistake rather than... what it is.

this is what i regret the most.

i think this was SUPPOSED to be a like, nice short statement that would hit hard. usually you only do short sentences like that when you’re sure they’re going to affect your audience? but like. this doesn’t work AT ALL which is why i’m prettyyyyyy sure there’s some narcisissm or smthn like that at play here

seriously, it just falls INCREDIBLY flat. letting down ppl you know is what you regret the most? not, y’know, DOING it? like jesus CHRIST. notice how he doesn’t apologize or say he regrets the actions once in this entire thing?? he just focuses on how the consequences have affected him. disgusting.

i take full accountability for the way i’ve conducted myself over these past years.

once again, he REFUSES to say what he’s done!! just talking himself around it. and using “conducted” there...... it’s written as though it’s all abt him, like, being a little creepy. it’s not abt how he “conducted” himself it’s abt how he GROOMED AND RAPED PPL!! 

it was unfair to those i have hurt, unfair to my friends in the community, and most importantly -- unfair to my family

“unfair” is once again downplaying it, my friend. but i do think there’s a little bit of an attempt at ethos here..... by throwing in his “friends in the community” where he doesn’t have to, he’s reminding everyone who he is -- that he was, as of a couple days ago, revered. loved. looked up to. 

also, bringing up his family to illicit sympathy for it. he’s STILL pushing this image of a “family man” and it’s DISGUSTING bc after all this, he’s made it very clear he doesn’t really care abt them at all

[stop harassing ppl paragraphs]

i agreed with this on first read and wasn’t going to comment on it but then i realized that’s what this part was meant for. it gives a break in talking abt things most ppl dislike him for, and makes you (the reader) AGREE with him, briefly. therefore, you form a comradery. this is argumentative essay 101: don’t start with the hard stuff, start somewhere everyone agrees and work from there. 

as for providing clarity to my mistakes, i would like to state: i never set out to hurt anyone

calling them mistakes again, you know how i feel about that. also, the “providing clarity” part is so strange. once again he’s framing it like he’s getting ready to write an excuse, like he’s exonerating himself by saying he never “set out” to hurt ppl

i flirted with and had sexual relations with members of the community

notice how he doesn’t address anything other than that. all he owns up to is flirting and sex. he doesn’t address the age gaps, the money, the rape -- nothing. and look at what he calls them: members of the community. that he makes it so general and broad means it’s CERTAIN there’s far more victims than have come forward. 

i am continually saddened to learn that my actions have contributed to anyone’s pain, especially as my interactions, as inappropriate as they were, always came from a place of what i thought was a shared connection

this is just. So Much. in one sentence. first things first: this sounds like a robot wrote it?? or someone who never experienced human emotions?? like seriously. saddened??? saddened was the best word you could come up with for that??? like. try horrified, floored, distraught, but SADDENED?? it just goes to show how UTTERLY disconnected he is 

and then!!! we get to the meat!!!!!! he says “contributed” instead of “caused,” alleviating himself of some responsibility and throwing subtle shadows on the girls who have come forward -- basically “well. they’re all a bit off in the head” in fewer words. also, using “interactions” there is just so fucking strange as well. you weren’t “interacting” with them. he said what he was doing (at least loosely) earlier in the paragraph, so once again he’s DOWNPLAYING IT

THEN there comes the SHARED CONNECTION. HOOOOOBOY. i have a theory on what this shared connection could be.................. love of fucking ryan haywood. bc it’s becoming more and more clear that ryan really, really loves himself. wtf else could he have possibly believed he shared with these victims??? i cannot see it. 

i apologize for all the hurt i’ve caused... i may never redeem myself, but i am taking steps to be a better person

okay sorry most of that paragraph was pointless so i’ve cut it. here, in the final statements, we get down to it.... the real kicker... have you seen it yet? well, i’ll tell you: he didn’t fucking apologize for what he did. TEXTBOOK, TEXTBOOK, TEXTBOOK NON-APOLOGY. HOLY SHIT. he apologizes for the “HURT HE’S CAUSED” like waaaa baby }i’m so sorry you got hurt. not sorry i did it tho lol”

AND THEN: the one, final appeal to sympathy. the pledge to do better. doesn’t matter if it’s true, EVERYONE wants to better themselves in some way, so EVERYONE can relate to this!! everyone wants to do better and be better and he’s playing on those basic human emotions to illicit sympathy. GROSS.

basically, this was one of the most narcissistic, stupid things i’ve had to read in a while and I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS GUY IS STILL ON TWITTER HOLY SHIT. 

at it’s most basic form:

he mentions himself (says i, my, etc): 37 times

mentions mistakes/accountability/unfair: 13 times

mentions his family/friends/community: 11 times

mentions the other victims: 3 times

...see the problem?

[illfoandillfie]

Ok ho time bc it looks like Rog is wearing a thong and I’m just thinking about making him wear one for a concert... 👀

lauren omg it certainly is ho time this gif lives rent free in my mind thank you for letting me ho out about it. wrote a little over 2k because i struggle with brevity. 

warnings: smut, hand job, talk of anal and oral

Blurb Advent: Day 13

It came as a surprise to absolutely none of your friends when the betting started. You and Roger had always enjoyed a good bet. You were both competitive enough to take them seriously and became bored easily so were always on the look out for something to bet over to spice things up. Plus, betting was the foundation of your relationship. A lost bet had led to your first kiss with Roger. A won bet to your first orgasm at his hands. And a rigged bet with your friends led to your first date. So, if anyone had put money on the evening turning into a betting competition between you and Roger, they would have been given very low odds indeed.

The winnings for your bets could range from small things like a handful of loose change found at the bottom of the washing machine or the last biscuit in the box to larger things like sexual favours or who’d have to drive a friend to the airport. But sometimes your competitive streaks would cause chains of bets, each one over something bigger than the last. On this occasion it started with a friendly bet over a game of scrabble. By halfway through it was very clear to both of you that neither of you would be winning. Deaky and Brian were both well in front of you and every letter you pulled from the bag seemed to be completely useless for high scoring words. So you placed a bet on who you thought would win the game. Unfortunately for Roger, Brian came out second best so you got to pick the radio station for the drive home. Roger was adamant that John had cheated somehow, either you’d been smuggling extra tiles to him or his words weren’t dictionary accurate, so on the way home he bet you that he could make the trip without needing to stop at a single red light. He would have had it, driving a rather convoluted way home to avoid main roads with traffic lights, except there was one unavoidable light that he had to pass though to reach your street and it was changing from yellow to red as you got to it.

“Fuck,” he hit the steering wheel in frustration.

Once you were inside he grumpily headed for the kitchen to make you a cup of tea as your reward for winning. But, not half an hour late he came up with another bet to try and “put things right”. He lost that too and you got two orgasms as he ate you out. Unfortunately for him, he’d made the mistake of putting his own sexual gratification on the line when he’d said the loser of the bet wouldn’t be allowed to cum for the rest of the night. But, clearly very aroused from giving you your winnings, he decided to up the anti and bet that you couldn’t get him off in under three minutes.

You rolled your eyes, “why should I? I like when you’re all whiny and desperate,”

“Think about it, you get to choose what happens if you win. If you get me off in under three minutes you could choose to deny me all of tomorrow and wont I be so much more desperate after an entire day than just the evening? You wouldn’t have to deny me either, you could have me get you off again instead or, um, you could make me eat something I hate or, um, I don’t know. It’s up to you. The world is your oyster.”

You considered it, trying to think of something good enough. You’d already had two orgasms and didn’t really want any more. You could deny Roger but he’d have already cum tonight if you won and you wanted something immediate so it didn’t drag on like it was threatening to do. And then it came to you.

“Alright, you’re on.”

Roger’s face lit up, convinced he was going to win this one. He grabbed the egg timer from the kitchen and then sat down in an armchair, “Go on then love, you’ve got three minutes. I suggest you try and finish me with your mouth so that when I win I can just take over and fuck your throat.”

You stretched your arms out in front of you, fingers interlocked, and then took of your shirt and bra. Roger raised his eyebrow as his gaze fell to your breasts, but he didn’t comment. You dropped to your knees between his legs and unhurriedly released him from his pants as he flipped the timer over. Spitting onto your palm, you began to stroke his length, feeling every ridge and vein under your fingers. You pushed yourself higher on your knees as you twisted your wrist, your strokes getting firmer, and leaned towards Roger’s ear.

“Always did love your cock,” you said softly, dropping one hand to fondle his balls as your other teased his head, “Even before we were together I used to wonder what it’d feel like splitting me open. I knew it had to be big but I didn’t realise just how big it was. Wasn’t sure I could handle it the first time I saw it. Thought my pussy was going to be too small and tight to take it.”

Roger was getting closer, though not as fast as you needed. Usually you loved that he could last but not tonight. You needed something better than flattery.

“Y’know if you win, I think you’d be wasting it by using my throat. You can have that any time. And there is one hole I’ve not let you use before.” You paused to let it sink in as you rolled his balls in your hand, “I wouldn’t be able to say no if I lost. You could pin me down and prove me wrong about not liking it. Show me how good it feels to have your cock in my arsehole. You’re probably right that I’d love it. In fact I’ve held off on it because I’m worried I’d like it more than when you fuck my cunt. I might just turn into a little anal whore who begs to have her arse fucked nightly.”

Roger grunted and you knew he was close.

“C’mon Rog. Show me what I’m missing. You know how good it would feel, stretching my tight little arsehole on your big hard cock. Being the first man to ever have me like that. Teach me to cum from anal and then never have to fuck me any other way. And while you’re teaching me I’d be so desperate for an orgasm that I’d beg you to use me constantly. On my knees just like I am now, begging to be allowed to feel you fuck my arse again. I’d do anything to cum, anything you wanted. I’d beg to be used by you, constantly desperate for your cock. Dripping wet just at the thought of it. All it takes is one fuck to show me how wrong I am and how much I’d love it.”

“Oh G-od” Roger groaned as he came over your hand.

“Looks like I win,” you gloated as you worked him through his orgasm.

Roger groaned again but this time out of annoyance as he let his head fall back against the couch, “Fine, what do I have to do? Edge? Go down on you again?”

“No, nothing like that. Give me two minutes to go wash my hands and I’ll show you.”

“Can I at least fuck your arse?”

You laughed as you walked off, “Absolutely not,”

 Roger was waiting where you’d left him though he’d tidied himself up. You walked towards him with your hands behind your back.

“What have you got?”

“Something I want you to wear tomorrow. My reward for winning.” You held it out and Roger took it, sneering at the silky material.

“Seriously? One of your thongs?”

“Yup. You’re going to wear it all day.”

“Urgh fine. Think I might have rathered the denial though.”

Roger’s complaining didn’t stop once he was actually wearing the skimpy underwear. All day he groaned and muttered under his breath about how uncomfortable it was. Until you got sick of it and offered him a double or nothing bet in which he had the chance to win his freedom. It was closer but Roger lost that one too and added a whole week to his sentence.

“This is fucking bullshit. A whole fucking week? Fuck off. I’ve got a show on Saturday!”

You figured a lot of his shitty mood was to do with his losing stream and, in an attempt to alleviate some of his whining, you went out and bought a few sets of thongs specifically designed for men and agreed that he could wear his regular underwear during the concert.

“Really?”

“I don’t want to get in the way of your drumming Rog. I just thought it would be fun and kind of hot to make you wear my panties. Of course you can take them off to play.”

“Well okay then,” he still sounded ticked off but some of the wind had left his sails and he took the new underwear you offered.

The new sets did the trick though and Roger stopped complaining as much. In fact, by the end of the week Roger seemed to be enjoying the change. He took to strutting around the house in the tightest jeans he owned or, once or twice, in just the underwear as he’d been wont to do in his briefs. You’d have said it was just a bluff, an attempt to make it less fun for you so you suggested you end it early, though it was clearly affecting his sex drive too. Whether it was the feeling of the thong itself or that it boosted his ego to see how good he looked in tight pants, you couldn’t tell. Either way Roger was twice as amorous as usual, and it wasn’t as if his sex drive had been lacking.

Finally, the night of the concert rolled around. Roger left a few hours before you so the boys could run through the set list and check everything was up to scratch but you were able to slip in through the back stage area when you arrived. You ran around the back of the stage to catch them all before they went on and wish them luck. Roger gave you a quick kiss before taking his place behind his kit. It was odd. As he leaned forward to make an adjustment it almost looked like he was still wearing his thong. But that couldn’t be because he’d said he was going to change to play. You waved it off, sure it was just a trick of the lights and moved around to the front to find your seat. Roger was on fire, obviously having a great time as he pounded away at his drums, though the whole band seemed to be having a great night.

After they left the stage for the final time you met them all around by their dressing room, ready to head off to the afterparty. Roger gave you a quick kiss and was just taking your hand to head out when he remembered something.

“Shit hang on,” he ducked back into the room and you followed, watching as he bent to pick up a forgotten bag. The top of his thong was clearly visible over the waistband of his incredibly tight leather pants. If you’d been drinking something you would have done a spit take.

“Okay, all good now,” he laughed, grabbing you and leading you out to the car as you tried not to let your surprise show.

The car was so crowded that you couldn’t mention it on the way to the party so as soon as you arrived you grabbed Roger and dragged him off towards the nearest bathroom.

“What are you doing, love?”

“Nothing. Just come in here,”

“Oh I get it. You saw how hot I looked playing and now you want a ride? Well I’m sorry love, but I can’t just now. Got people to say hi too, a party to enjoy. Maybe later though, if you’re still so despe-”

“I saw the thong Taylor.”

He stopped, cheeks flushed though he tried to play it off, “I don’t know what you mean.”

You stepped close, meeting his eyes as you reached around behind him and snapped the top of the underwear.

“Fucking hell, alright. I’m still wearing it. So what?”

“You like it.” You teased, “You like wearing thongs.”

“Maybe I do, a bit.”

“Ha! I can’t believe this, after all your bitching about them.”

“Alright, shut up about it.”

“No way, this is too funny,”

“I’ll make you a bet and if I win you have to shut up about it.”

“What’s the bet?”

“I bet the people out in the other room will hear you”

“Hear me what?”

Your question was answered as he lifted you onto the sink.

“Alright, you’re on.”

[goldenscript]

bffs to lovers!kino

literally the sweetest sunshine of a best friend that you could ever ask for

kang hyunggu, a dancing and music prodigy who can sing, dance, and rap,,, like who knew? well, ofc you did

you’ve known him long before he was accepted into his music academy and hit it off really well all over the place

he’s not signed or anything yet but he should be - actually, he wants to get his degree first before he focuses on all that stuff so on top of music he’s being extra studious

anyway hyunggu and you have been bff’s since you two were kids, you two were inseparable after being seated together and since then it’s just been you and him as two peas in a pod

as you two grew older,,, like into 5th grade and onward, you noticed his affiliation for music and how much he adored being able to sing and play instruments

the way he lit up at the sound of music was more than enough of a telltale sign that he was meant to play and perform

you just knew,, and you’re certain a part of him knew too

he just needed a push from someone

his parents couldn’t really give him the money to play piano or anything, so they weren’t an option

however, the music teachers at your school helped him raise funds because they saw so much potential in him like you and even though he said it wasn’t a big deal if he couldn’t get lessons, you knew it was

he did a bunch of yard work, house work, lots of side jobs that could help him fund that dream of his and he saved up A Lot

sometimes when he wasn’t looking you’d put in a few bucks of your own allowance to his little lessons fund too

instead of giving it to him directly because the last time you did he got really upset, you would give it to the teachers and made them promise not to say a word about it

so you continued to encourage him to keep pursuing his music despite how shy he was with any of it,,, like talent shows? nope. showcases? Heck no

your middle school music teacher begged you to convince him because to no avail the poor shy boy just couldn’t find the gets to get on that stage with other people watching him

you knew how much he wanted to perform and share music he had trapped in that little notebook of his and you just,,,

you made it a goal of yours to convince him

you wanted to give him that strength to do it not only by talking to him about all his anxieties so he’d feel lighter but also by showing up to every single practice

you would always stay up with him to listen to his latest piece and you even showed up to his first performance with a rose because you couldn’t afford a bouquet but he loved it

he really began to love music and performing and the idea of making it a career really dawned on him when he was contacted by a scout for a big arts academy

next to your support, he decided to take a music career path more seriously just to show his parents that instead of running a grocery store with them that he wanted to make music and write lyrics and sing and all that good stuff

they were pretty skeptical because practicality and tbh they actually hadn’t seen him perform

he was also so shy to mention it to them because it was always about the store with them so you told them about it and it was a later performance that would really seal his fate in the music world

he performs this song about growth and doing better things and it’s just so beautiful with his voice and the melody and he hit this gorgeous high note,,,, like he automatically got that scholarship

you and his parents were so proud,,, y’all even cheered the loudest and as embarrassed as eighth grader hyunggu was, he was so elated that you three were there

in the end, they decided to support him and his decision to accept the scholarship to the arts academy in the city and it dawns on the two of you what this meant

school of performing arts in seoul  (SOPA for short) meant bigger and way better things for him and you didn’t want that to be wasted just because he would be leaving

despite how visibly torn he was at first, you definitely talked him into going because you absolutely refused to be the reason why he didn’t follow his dream

so in those for years you exchanged a few words and saw each other in the beginning

sometimes you visited or he visited but a lot of the time you had to go there during his free time which began to get sparser and sparser as the school drew on

and eventually he just grew busier and busier to the point where visits didn’t happen anymore

you’d get a few texts every now and then - eventually those stopped too

at first, it hurt a lot to know that he couldn’t respond but you also understood that the workload there is vastly different from your average high school and if he wanted to keep a spot there then he needed to put 110% in

plus, over the years, his stuff was taking off - from performances to demos to even melodies because his producing was just as good as his singing and dancing which you actually had no clue about

at least until your old music teacher saw you volunteering at the middle school and watched some videos at you and you were just,,, in awe because he really became something amazing like you knew he would

you didn’t have any hard feelings over all - his parents often gave you updates about him since he did his best to send them some updates every now and then and it made you happy

you even enjoyed his music, often sending him a few encouraging messages even if they weren’t answered since he just needed to know you loved it too

your graduations fly by but by then the two of you have gotten new phones and numbers so you just hope he’s doing well

his mom tells you he is before you leave for uni and she even drops a few hints that he’s asked about you too so it makes you happy that he’s still thinking of you

she reacts a little funny when you tell her you’re going to seoul university but you brush it off since you were absolutely certain that hyunggu would wind up getting signed after high school but guess what??

you both wind up at the same university!!!!

you actually had no clue all that fall and winter quarter, only sparsely hearing about how knnovation was at the school but it slips your mind that this is kino aka your childhood friend hyunggu

until,,,,,

you’re both in music theory that spring!!!

he kinda ok really sucks LOL

it’s almost appalling how badly he’s doing in the class since he’s such a superstar in the underground music world but when you see him with his tufts of dark hair and the tip of his tongue at the corner of his mouth,,, you swear he looks familiar

you don’t really find out until a few weeks into the class that it’s him until the professors asks to see you and him after class

at that point where you finally get a good look at him and he gets a good look at you, you both recognize each other immediately

and you’re both like !!! “omg it’s you!!!”

the professor just laughs at you two and says “well it’s good thing you know each other!!” and he turns to you like “can you pls tutor him??”

hyunggu’s pretty sheepish about saying his grade but he looks at you pleadingly since you’re actually the top student in the class and you’re like “yeah ofc!!!”

so you both get reacquainted and shyly exchange info for studying

tbh this winds up being excuses to wander the city together and you attempting to explain certain concepts to him

he sorta gets it but he gets really distracted bc holy fuck you’re so cute and so sweet and he feels like crap for hardly messaging you back but you actually have no hard feelings and it makes him feel worse so you’re like !!! “ace the next quiz and i’ll forgive you”

and he gets really cutely determined and feels his heart singing like it did before he left you and in truth he kinda stopped responding to you bc he always got these weird fuzzies in his tummy and you consumed his mind a lot,,, it was really distracting

it wasn’t until he was older that he realized he really liked you and seeing you again reignited those feelings!!!!!!!

he invites u to his dance competitions and singing recitals and you go to like every single one with roses even tho he tells u not to but you’re like u never invited me to the ones in high school so i need to make up for lost time

and hearing that, makes him feel even more !!!!!!!!!

and anyway he winds up acing his exams with your help and his own determination to impress u

and in all that time of studying and getting reacquainted, you two have gotten so close, knowing each other’s lives like you were never separated,,, and he sees just amazing you are and how much it makes him never want to see you go

it also shows him just how much you’ve affected him because he’s reminded of those nights in high school where all he could about was you and how much he wanted to text you back and all that but he was scared

he heard horror stories about best friends falling out because one of them fell for the other and how drastically different things were

like even worse because it becomes painfully awkward and imagining a life like that with you?? hurt,,, a lot,,, so he just stayed away

he hoped the feelings would go away

and for a while they did but it was never enough for him to forget you or remember your phone number even when he’d get a new phone

each performance, he’d remember you there with a single rose and it’d always make him work harder

it was sort of his thank you to you for encouraging him and giving him strength to perform

one night you two are just hanging out watching some movies and you look over at him with this gorgeous twinkle in your eye and say, “i’m really glad that you’re in my life again, hyunggu”

and instead of responding, he kinda just leans in to kiss you but he’s about to pull back since ??? ‘@ me wyd!!!!’ 

but

tHEN

you kiss him

it’s really brief and quick but your lips are tingling and so are his

and when you pull away to say, “i’m really really really glad - god i’ve been dying to do that!” he gets so flustered and happy and he admits that he has too

of course, he’s a lil embarrassed that you did it first but he’s like “how abt a date then?”

you break out in a beautiful smile and agree before you cuddle in his arms and continue watching movies

just to really encapsulate your relationship with hyunggu, i just wanna say you two balance each other

he’s prone to overthinking and wondering if what he’s doing is ever good enough but you are always there to encourage and lend him some strength because you believe in him more than anyone in this entire world

and for you, you’re prone to overworking yourself because you want to have a good future and sometimes you tend to take on more than you can handle or you always strive for the best grade and sometimes you get so burnt out but then hyunggu’s there

he’s a sweet soul and he’ll always tell you to take it easy, sometimes taking you away from your desk just to have a break because those dark circles and your growling stomach are all telltale signs that You Need To Rest

he’ll even sing you a lullaby when you want to sleep but can’t and he can’t help but break out into a beautiful grin because you recognize it as a song he sang to you when you were in middle school

and he admits he wrote it for you

because next to giving him strength, you really motivated him to do better,,, you always have

him going to college wasn’t just something his parents suggested, but it was something that he knew even you would talk him into because of your value of education and working for something

he admits that you showed a lot and taught him a lot and it puts you in awe because even though he was really busy with his music,,, you were still on his mind

and honestly it makes you feel even more love for him because he’s truly a loving soul who only wants the best for people he cares about

it’s the night after finals when you’re exhausted and way too lazy to go anywhere but your dorm

he comes over and asks how they went and he laughs when you groan but open your arms up for his usual cuddles and as you both lay there, staring up at the ceiling for nothing in particular,,, you tell him,,,

“i love you”

it takes him by surprise because he’s thought of telling you and thought of the idea of loving you and it really struck him when it hits him that he really wouldn’t be where he was without you 

he tells you that and as you’re at a loss of words, he presses his lips to your forehead and hums that song of yours and says “i love you too”

[buckyslightsaber]

Paranoid

Request: None

Pairing: King Arthur (The Legend of the Sword) x Reader

Summary: Arthur can’t find you and he get’s extremely anxious. (Happens while Arthur is still in Londinium)

 Warnings: I think I swore somewhere in there.

Word count: 2,650

A/N: I’m debating whether or nor I  should delete this account since I barely even post anything ever, but for now, have this King Arthur: Legend of the Sword imagine because i just rewatched it for like the fifth time today. I swear this was meant to be short and lightweight but you know me wh00ps (honestly don’t even like this one sm, I’m just posting it bc it’s the first thing I’ve written in aaaaaggeesss)

My Masterlist

Paranoid

Arthur let out a deep breath as he felt himself being pulled out of his unconscious state and back into his bed, where the sunlight began to stream in. It flooded the room, illuminating it with a dim glow and slight warmth, something he appreciated deeply. He had yet to open his eyes, but a small smile already invaded his features.

This smile was due to one thing and one thing in particular: you. Arthur’s mind was swamped with memories of last night’s happenings, contently basking in every touch and laugh the two of you shared, not to mention everything else that came after that. His brain recreated your face so beautifully in front of lids, which were shut, that he couldn’t keep himself from thinking of you persistently.

After a while, Arthur’d had enough of imagining your face and felt an urge to see it for himself again. He wanted to be able to study every dip and curve on it, and engrave it into his memory more than it already was, if that was even possible.

Prompted by these desires, Arthur slowly rolled over, gently cracked his eyes open. To his dismay, he was greeted by an empty bed.

How weird; he could’ve sworn you’d stayed the night. Hell, he remembered all the times he’d fallen into fleeting moments of consciousness, looking around only to be met with your angelic features, unbothered as you rested next to him.

It couldn’t have been a dream. No, he was sure of it.

Maybe you’d already gotten up.

Following this thought process Arthur slowly peeled the fur blanket off his almost naked figure, swinging his legs over the bed as he pulled himself up. Quietly, he padded over to the bathroom. He stood in front of the door. “Y/N?” Arthur called out, not wanting to sneak up on you and scare you. He stayed still, observing the unperturbed wooden door, which he later opened, only to find the bathroom was empty. His frown only deepened at this finding, assuming you must’ve gone downstairs. You always did like having an early breakfast with the girls. Walking back to his room, Arthur snatched up some clothes and got dressed quickly.

Downstairs, the main room was rather full. The girls ate breakfast and chatted as some men hung out with them, striking up conversation, too. As he descended down the stairs, Arthur adjusted his jacket, scanning the room. You were nowhere to be found. He sighed, walking up to WetStick and nudging him, drawing his attention. “‘Haven’t seen Y/N, have you mate?”

WetStick raised an eyebrow. “Thought she was with you.”

Arthur blew out a breath. “Was. I think she left earlier this morning. ”

“You sure? I’ve been up since the wee morning, ‘aven’t seen her.” BackLack chimed in joining the boys. He had a piece of bread in his hands and crumbles falling out of his mouth as he spoke.

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. There’s no way you could’ve left without him seeing you. Still, he tried to ignore the uneasy feeling he got. He was probably just being paranoid.

WetStick and BackLack shared a look, which then fell on Arthur, who’s gaze was instead fixated on the floor. WetStick spoke up, stealing the words out of BackLack’s mouth .“Is she alright?”

Arthur didn’t reply immediately, instead nodding. “O’ course”. It wasn’t a lie, was it? Y/N had to be alright, she’d just left early without anyone seeing her. That had to be it, right? Without directing another word to either of them, Arthur simply strolled out of the brothel, calmly closing the door behind him, leaving the two men to wonder what was going on.

Arthur, however, didn’t mind that he’d just left his two pals completely dumbfounded. All he wanted to do was find you and make sure you were alright.

He plotted out a path in his head, the first stop being the market. On his way there he saw Mike, who was selling furs. Instead of pestering him and demanding money from him, he decided to first ask about you instead. “Oi Mike. You know Y/N, yeah?”

Mike, who was busy unloading his furs, merely looked up to answer. “Your girl? Ye.”

“Great. She hasn’t happened to have strolled through here, has she?” He pressed, leaning against Mike’s wagon, calculating how much Mike would owe him for transporting all this fur. Mike shook his head. Fuck.

“Alright then.” As Arthur began to back away, he tried his best not to sound worried. He turned to Mike once more, considering whether or not he’d make Mike pay up. Finally, he decided he had more important matters to attend to, and just let him be for now. He’d have to have another talk with him about paying his damn commission later.

Upon arriving at the market, he noted it was, like the brothel, quite more packed than usual. On a regular day he’d stop and observe amateur pick pockets with WetStick and BackLack, an activity they found rather entertaining when they had the time for it. Other times, he’d work his own thieving magic on passerbys, but today, he had time to do neither.

His eyes stopped on a small figure, wearing a coat he’d seen on you many times before. As relief washed over his system, he moved swiftly, his expert footwork allowing him to sift through the crowd seamlessly. He snaked his arm around your waist, making you jump and instantly turn around to face him. Except it wasn’t you.

The lady staring back at Arthur was a complete stranger. She stared at him as if he were a pervert, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her. “Sorry miss.” He murmured, scurrying away quickly to hide his embarrassment, feeling the nervousness and anxiety regarding your whereabouts settle in again: If you weren’t in the market, where the hell else could you be?

Arthur kept his head down as his feet led him towards the ports, still making sure to be very aware of all the faces moving past him, not wanting to miss yours because he was distracted.

Unlike everywhere else today, the ports were relatively empty. It wasn’t absolutely devoid of people, he realized, it was just because the vikings’ spot was empty.

Shoving his hands into his jacket and pushing down his nerves, Arthur neared a familiar man working at a fruit stand. He’d met and talked to the man before, but his name always seemed to slip Arthur’s mind for some strange reason. The man called Arthur’s name, to which he replied with a nod.

“Where are the vikings?” Arthur asked, glancing back at the spot where the men had been just days ago.

The man merely shrugged, his lips falling into a straight line. “Lord knowns. They left at the crack of dawn. Raided the streets, took some girls wit’ ‘em. One girl was particularly petrified.” Arthur scrunched his nose as he began to get a bad feeling about this story. “Twas sad really. But you know how it is, I wasn’t about to intervene and get me head chopped off.”

Arthur wasn’t sure he’d heard anything the man said after mentioning that ‘one girl’, but he nodded anyway. “What else do you know about the girl. What’d she look like?”

As he heard the man’s description of said girl, Arthur could feel his stomach sinking deeper and deeper inside of him. Apart from how each characteristic he listed sounded peculiarly like you, he couldn’t help but imagine all the things that would happen if that truly was you. He bit down on his lip hard, trying to listen to the rest of the explanation, but the blood pumping fiercely through his veins and behind his ears almost kept him from being able to. Not that he minded, really. That information alone was enough to get his mind going. It killed him to think of you, his beautiful, sweet girl being manhandled by those bastards. Oh the things he’d do if they laid a single, dirty hand on your precious skin.

Arthur felt like he wanted to do multiple things, mostly scream out in anger and beat somebody to a pulp, but for now he just balled his fists at his sides. As soon as the man finished talking, Arthur thanked him and excused himself.

Arthur moved like lightning, marching with heavy footsteps back to the brothel. Even though the menacing frown etched on his face made him look furious on the outside, he felt like he could cry, but he’d save that for later on in the night, when he could be alone with his thoughts. For now he’d have to try his hardest to ignore his dreadful thoughts that were now beginning to eat away at his brain.

“Outta the way.” He called out, shoving people in all directions, moving with fast, abrupt motions. You were his top priority now, it’s not like he’d stop and think about his manners. He almost kicked down the door to the brothel, not bothering to even acknowledge the surprised faces that stared back at him upon entering.

Arthur trudged up to WetStick and BackLack, who were both already conveniently sat together. “The Graybeards took Y/N.” He blurted out, wasting absolutely no time with euphemisms.

Both men looked utterly shocked as they tried to take in Arthur’s words as well his facial expression, a mixture of disgust and genuine anger. They looked like they were about to speak, but Arthur dismissed them with the wave of a hand. “I’ll go upstairs and get my things, then I’ll be back to come up with a plan.” And just like that Arthur was gone again, bolting up the stairs as his mind clouded over with all the different contacts he had that could help him, all the different routes he could take, materials he’d potentially need, and anything else that seemed relevant. He was ready to flip Londinium upside down to get you back safely.

Arthur swung the door to his room open, feeling seconds away from ripping it off its hinges. He took a single step into the room before he froze completely, unable to believe his eyes.

You sat on his bed, nonchalantly looking off somewhere in the distance.  You were right there. One thought swam through his head, jumping out apart from all the others, the most important to him. You were safe.

A couple seconds later you looked up, finally acknowledging his presence. As the weight of a thousand worlds lifted off his shoulders, you began to greet him, but he cut you off as he dove down and hoisted you off the bed in and into the air, his muscular arms nearly knocking the wind out of you. The joy that swelled up inside of him in that second was just indescribable. A section of your clothes was bunched up in one of his hands while the other tangled itself in your hair, pushing you safely into the crook of his neck while he squeezed his eyes shut. He held onto you so tightly that if he pressed even just the tiniest bit harder he’d probably leave an unintentional bruise.

“Arth, you’re hurting me.” Your voice sounded out small and fragile, squeezed through the layers of Arthur’s clothes.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He mumbled into your hair, instantly letting go. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. Arthur pulled you back by your shoulders and took a moment to contemplate your face. Although you were completely confused, to him you looked more beautiful than ever. He didn’t want to waste any time, so he pulled you back into his arms, this time more gently. The hand that was once ferociously gripping onto your clothes was now delicately resting on your waist, while the other stayed on your back. He proceeded to plant a kiss on your forehead, later laying his chin atop your head.

You allowed him to cradle you as you rested your head against his broad chest, listening as his heart beat began to settle down. Both of your hands went under his shirt, rubbing circles on his bare back, something that you’d learned was especially soothing to him.

“My god...” He whispered, thanking every god he could think. He couldn’t be happier to have been wrong. “I was so worried about you, darling.” Arthur mumbled into your hair.

His hands unwrapped themselves from around your figure, letting you stand up straight once again. “What? Why?”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, letting out a troubled sigh. “I didn’t know where you were. I thought something happened to you. I thought the vikings had taken you, I-”

“Shh, calm down Arth. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You assured him as you ran a hand down his arm, all the way to his big hands now encased around yours.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was just so worried.” He repeated, stopping again to look at your face. “Where were you, anyway?”

“I went to the market to grab some apples to make your favorite apple pie.”

“But I went to the market. I didn’t see you there.” Arthur replied, confused. He even remembered looking specifically at the apple stand and not seeing you at all.

“I was probably there before you. When I came back the boys said you’d just left.” Oh. His mind took him back to few minutes, when he hadn’t given either of his mates a chance to speak because he was so caught up with all the viking stuff. If he’d let them speak he’d probably spared himself a couple minutes of agony.

Arthur chuckled softly, feeling incredibly stupid for making such a big deal out of nothing. He ran a hand down his face, which you must’ve interpreted as him feeling annoyed with you. “I’m sorry I left so early, but you know how it is, if you don’t get there early you won’t get to pick the good ones. Please don’t be mad.”

Instantly, Arthur shook his head. “Oh, no love. I’m not mad. It’s my fault, I was just being paranoid.” He couldn’t be mad at you, not even if he tried.

He reached over to stroke a piece of your hair that’d fallen out of place. He twirled it around his finger, not looking you in the eye at first, but slowly making his way back up to meet your eyes. “You know I love you right, sweetheart. Very, very much. And I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

You nodded slowly, looking at him with loving eyes. “Yes, and I love you, too.”

A smile spread across Arthur’s face, the smile that only appeared when he was around you. His eyes danced around your features, stopping at your lips. Scooting closer to you, he leaned in as you did the same, your lips willingly parting. His tender lips moved slowly against yours, not pushy, not needy, but loving and caring instead.

He drew back, still letting your foreheads touch as he brought a calloused hand up to your cheek. Arthur’s didn’t allow his eyes to leave yours until he brought his lips up to your forehead, letting his chin place itself on your head again. “I will always protect you, love.”

Running his fingers through your hair, he felt himself let go of all the emotions he was previously harboring. He never wanted to have to feel that way again. Never wanted to have the thought of something being wrong with you even cross his mind.

You were one of the last bits of happiness and love in his life and he didn't know what he’d do with himself if you were gone. Shuddering at the thought, he closed his eyes again, allowing his mind to drift. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” He repeated, more to himself than to you, but still a promise nonetheless.

A promise he very much intended to keep.  

More Fics By Me

Tags: None

If you want to be added to my tag list, you can send me an ask telling me so and what fandoms you want to be tagged in

[freevoidman]

④ DAY 4 (10/22): Alternate Universe ★ Fears/Insecurities

For some reason, daemon activity has been on the rise in Insomnia, despite the walls standing as strong as ever. The city’s falling into panic, and on top of all of that, there are completely new daemons that are fighting for dominance in the city. The only thing Lucian scientists can conclude is that they’re spawning from a similar area, given that all eye witness reports claimed to see a green hourglass symbol somewhere on their bodies.

Meanwhile, Prompto has a new accessory: a large, clunky watch that doesn’t tell time.

((Look y’all I have no idea where this AU came from but it’s my brain child and I love it and I might continue it after Prompto Week bc I am a self-indulgent piece of trash))

Ignis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked at the scene in front of him. “What number is this?”

“Nine. We’re nearly at double digits.” Gladio nudged him, holding out a can of Ebony. “I probably shouldn’t be feeding your addiction, but I think after this many early morning wake-up calls I might have to get a can for myself.”

Ignis took the drink and quickly opened it, taking a long gulp. He surveyed the ripped streets, the jagged crystals jutting out of the ground, the overturned cars and, of course, the daemon’s blood, only just beginning to evaporate in the early dawn light. “I doubt the cleanup will be anything but pleasant.”

“Sure won’t be like that green goop stuff from a couple weeks ago.” Gladio made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and slapped Ignis on the back. “C’mon. Cor’ll kill us if he sees us slacking.”

Ignis quickly downed the rest of his Ebony, surveyed where workers hadn’t started, and picked up a hammer and chisel.

It was time to get to work.

~*^*~

His homework (somewhat) completed, Prompto grabbed an energy drink from his fridge and took a few sips as he looked out the window. He put it down on the small table next to him, besides his camera, and examined the watch on his wrist.

Today would mark the beginning of week three since he found the stupid thing. It had been left in an alley, faintly glowing green, and he’d seen it on the walk back from his job. He’d gone to pick it up, like an idiot, and it had leapt from the ground, like an excited puppy, to clamp onto his wrist. No matter what he did, it wouldn’t come off, and he wasn’t about to cut off his arm to do so. More importantly, the stupid thing couldn’t even tell him the time!

And then he discovered what the watch could actually do.

He opened the window, peering at the street below. So far, no one was outside—which was expected with the mandated curfew given the rise in daemon activity and the mysterious creature killing them. Pulling back, he tapped the watch’s face, the green and black disc popping up into a cylinder. The green hourglass symbol shifted into a diamond, and a silhouette appeared in the center.

Prompto scoffed. “I am not becoming Antman again.” He twisted the face dial, the silhouette changing into different forms, one after another, each one being changed as Prompto considered them, only to move on. Finally, he nodded, and very lightly placed his hand on top of the dial. “Please don’t mess up, please don’t mess up, please don’t mess up…”

He pressed the dial down, and his apartment was filled with green light.

When it faded, Prompto was gone. In his place was a bipedal creature with sleek blue, black, and white scales. His body was lean, with a long, reptilian tail coming from his back. His feet ended with jet black spheres, and his fingers had fused into three claws. His head was angular, an x-shaped visor covering its eyes and mouth. With a hiss, the visor slid back, exposing narrowed sky-blue eyes. Prompto looked down at his body, examining the hourglass symbol badge on its chest.

“Alright, looks like I got the right one.” Prompto’s voice had become somewhat raspy and higher pitched, noticeably different from his normal tone. He carefully went back to the window, claws clicking against the windowsill. “Now the hard part.”

The creature backed away a few feet, sizing up the available gap, before darting forward faster than any human could. At the last possible second, it leaped, diving through the gap and tucking and rolling before hitting the ground. Not wasting a second, the creature took off down the street, the air around it rippling and buffeting the buildings.

Prompto grinned beneath his visor, darting down the streets and weaving around, performing a few tricks as he went. Velos was always a fun form to take, mainly due to the fact that the high speed and traction allowed him to run laps around Insomnia, if he wanted.

However, tonight, he wanted to be Velos because of the increased security. Last night’s patrol had left a sizable amount of damage to the streets, as Terra was bound to do. Turns out he could create more, similarly colored and shaped rocks so long as he had contact with the earth!

He winced as he darted past the torn up road and stabbed buildings that he’d hit dealing with a bunch of Arachnes. He did feel guilty about it, but he couldn’t really do much about it now, not without creating more, unintentional damage as a result.

Moving on, he dashed into the northern neighborhoods, keeping as close an eye as he could on the smaller gaps between the apartment complexes. Satisfied with the lack of any daemonic activities, he moved southwest, making a very complex, maze-like path around the city.

Tonight he’d simply do a short patrol. The watch would change him back sooner rather than later, but he should have enough time to do a quick sweep through. The Kingsglaive were probably actively patrolling, because of him or the daemons or both he didn’t know, but it would certainly make the rest of Insomnia feel better.

Western neighborhoods secure, Prompto moved to the southern end of the city, then to the east once he was satisfied at the lack of any daemons. Deciding to vary his path a slight amount, Prompto found a lowered fire escape ladder and took the stairs at a much slower, much more annoying pace. Velos was the fastest thing alive so long as he wasn’t going up a ladder and trying to keep quiet enough to not wake up anyone staying in the apartments.

Reaching the roof, Prompto sighed and looked over the barely-tall-enough skyline. So far, the night had been pretty easy going and, frankly, he was surprised! Typically he’d run into at least one nasty daemon encounter or another before retiring for the night. Maybe they’d finally screwed off and given him a break.

A distant scream came from far down the street, almost far away enough that Prompto barely heard it.

He sighed. Never could get an easy night, huh?

Racing across the rooftops, Prompto headed towards the scream, paying attention to the roads below. He slowed considerably when he couldn’t hear or see any daemon activity, and stopped completely on top of Nouveau Records, a store he frequented for movies and music. As far as he could see, there weren’t any daemons, so what—

“Keep his mouth covered! Do you want to have the Crownsguard finding out about this?” Prompto paused, then walked to the edge of the roof and looked down. Beneath him were four people dressed in all black wearing ski masks, keeping their identities a secret. One was standing guard at the entrance of the alley. A second was hanging back further in the alley, a gun in hand. The third and fourth were working in tandem, with one pinning their victim against the brick wall and the other looking through his bag.

Now this was a bit more uncommon. With the curfew in effect, as well as the known increase of daemon activity and patrolling guards, there hadn’t been a lot of robberies or just… crime in general. Insomnia had become safer with Prompto running as a monster, in a weird, paradoxical way.

Still, he wasn’t opposed to stopping a robbery. With a smirk, Prompto ran down the side of the building, rapidly circling the one hanging back and creating a small tornado before darting towards the one holding the victim to the wall. He slammed into him, throwing him into the guard and knocking both of them to the sidewalk.

The fourth robber yelled, and Prompto just had enough time to turn and see the glint of silver before his clawed hand stabbed into the robber’s arm. He let out a scream, holding the wound and dropping the switchblade he’d intended to use. Hearing the screams of the first man he attacked getting louder, he picked up Mister Switchblade and threw him into his buddy before he could hit the ground, both of them flying back into the alley.

“What the fuck is that thing!” Shouted one of the robbers currently outside the alley. Not wanting them to escape scot-free, Prompto grabbed both of them and threw them back into the alley into their friends. As a last hurrah, he grabbed the cell phones from their pockets, keeping the only flip phone (thank the Gods for that) before grabbing a dumpster and blocking them in, cutting the wheels from the bottom with the spheres at the end of his feet.

Satisfied with his vigilantism, Prompto opened the flip phone and dialed the emergency hotline, tapping his foot in impatience when he wasn’t immediately answered. “Hello this is Insomnian Emergency Hotline, how many I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I’d like to report a robbery at…” He dashed to the street, narrowing his eyes at the street sign. “The corner of seventy-sixth street and Lexington. They’re in the alley between Nouveau Records and Lectio’s Books, behind a dumpster.”

“A… dumpster, sir?”

“Yep, at the back of the alley. Thank you!” Flipping the phone closed, he tossed it into the street, uncaring if it broke or was run over. Darting back into the alley, Prompto picked up the bag and any discarded money or somewhat-clean items and put it in the bag, turning to the guy still pressed against the wall. “Here you… go…”

Noctis’ wide, terrified eyes stared back at him, the grip on his short sword trembling as the awkward silence settled between them.

[slugmanslime]

Stretching

Pairing: ChiChi x Piccolo Warnings: cursing?? babies Word Count: 2,335 Fic Type: Oneshot Drabble

i want to say a huge thank you to @lilacboii for proof-reading all of these and thank you as well to @lilmissmousey for the encouragement!

i did vague this up a little bit bc sticking to timelines gives me a headache late at night bit i may fix this later on!

It might be difficult for the average woman to adjust to the feeling of a baby having a tantrum in the womb, but Son ChiChi is no average woman and her babies do not simply have tantrums, oh no. While her firstborn was rather mellow, surprising given his astronomical power level, her youngest son was proving to be very easily excitable. On days where all she wants to do is hang up the linens to dry and mop the kitchen, she is often forced to take frequent breaks, bent at the waist and gasping, while baby Goten does backflips off her ribcage and uses her small intestine as a jump rope.

It seemed that today was going to be one of those days; they were beginning to happen more often the closer she was getting to her due date, and ChiChi finds it to be both a blessing and a curse that her little boy’s gestation period would be seven months rather than nine. With Gohan’s schoolwork done for the day so he could make a break for the Lookout, and breakfast dishes that needed to be washed, ChiChi took a deep breath and hoisted herself from the kitchen chair she had collapsed in when Goten started practicing the mamba. The expectant mother clutched six months’ worth of baby belly in one hand as she waddled to the sink with a stack of plates in the other. Depositing them in the sink and taking a moment to wince, ChiChi rolled up her sleeves and got to work. While she was still heartbroken and angry, not much had changed with her Saiyan husband wishing to stay in the Other World. She could commend him for wanting to keep them safe—but she still felt that he was going about it all wrong. What good would it do for him to be gone if trouble reared its ugly, alien head regardless? Her scrubbing faltered for a moment before continuing. Well, it wasn’t as if she and her little boys were all alone…

Piccolo hovered a few yards above the roof of the Son cottage, silently tracking Gohan’s ki as he raced to meet Dende for who knows what. If he was a betting man, he would put money on them cracking open one of those ancient Namekian tombs and spending hours drooling over it. Deep in meditation, his lips quirked upwards only the slightest at the thought. Gohan was his closest friend, but the boy needed interaction with those his own age, and who better for the strongest fighter on either to befriend than the planets guardian himself?

Gohan’s ki was not the only one he was keeping tabs on at the moment. Beneath him in the cottage, he could feel two more sets thrumming with vitality. Although ChiChi would never admit it, he knew that his help was always wanted and appreciated; he supposed it had just never become a thing to consciously vocalize it, lest it become awkward for the lot of them. Piccolo had always been close, even when Goku was alive, always hovering and always around. But it wasn’t until cracks in the foundation had started to show that Piccolo came even closer, allowing himself to get sucked into the mundane of everyday life with the Sons. And on some level, he even admitted that sometimes it was enjoyable.  

Animated swearing cut his meditation sessions short, and his unconscious smirk vanished as his ears perked. Piccolo dropped to the ground in an instant, but the curses had slowly started dying off. Chichi’s voice had been laced with pain, and the Namekian wasted no time barging through the too-small front doorway. To his increased confusion, he could smell no blood, and as he peered at the tiny woman doubled over and clutching the sink so hard the aluminum was warping, Piccolos anxiety spiked.

“ChiChi, what’s going on? Is—is this labor? You’re very early, I should call that doctor to see—,” The very hand that had been crumpling the sink like a soda can whipped up, motioning for him to be silent. Piccolo’s mouth shut with an audibly click, fangs knocking against each other.

A few moments later when she was able to speak, it was hardly more than a hiss. “Trust me, Piccolo, I know what labor feels like. This… is Goten stretching…”

The surly Namekian stays hunched for a moment longer before completely entering the house and standing at his full height, violet tinging his ears. He had been truly frightened for a moment, thinking he had this spitfire woman about to have a Saiyan baby right in front of him. His arms crossed over his broad chest, talons curling around his bicep as he gazed down at her, brows furrowed. “You look like he’s ripping you in half. Is that even normal?”

Almost immediately he regretted speaking as her head tilted upwards, melting him to the spot with her fiery gaze. Sweat beads dotted her face and her mouth is set in a grim line; haggard is an expression she had been sporting for too long and there was something about it that tugged at Piccolos chest.

“Well I don’t know, is being pregnant with a half alien child normal? Idiot!” Although her voice is sharp, it’s becoming apparent that Goten’s movements were becoming less agitated. They shared few more moments of silence punctuated by ChiChi’s panting, and finally she stood, wiping her sweaty palms on the front of her gown. Piccolo took this opportunity to come closer, peering around the nearly completely cleaned kitchen for something to do. She had beaten him to nearly everything, and he frowned down at her.

Chichi gave it right back, hands placed on her hips, cocking one to the side with a sass that comes as easily as breathing. “Don’t give me that look, Piccolo! You know when I need help you’re the first person I call.” Her face softens some, and she gives him an apologetic smile. “You shoulda seen the look on your face though. Priceless! You looked like you’d seen a ghost.” She doesn’t bother trying to stifle her giggles at his discomfort.

“Oh, come off it! How was I supposed to know?” His frown weakened into a scowl, his ears growing a shade darker at her teasing. The concern hadn’t left his eyes at all however, no matter how gruffly he was speaking. It doesn’t go unnoticed by his companion either, even as she sighs and returns to her seat, hands folded over her stomach.

“Okay, you wouldn’t know, you’re right. I was just pokin’ fun, Piccolo, don’t be such a ‘fraidy-cat. Hey, c’mere, let me show you something—quick, before he calms all the way down!” Beaming in a way that only a mother-to-be can, ChiChi motioned for him to approach, holding one hand out for his own. He shuffled over to her after a long minute of hesitation and her beckoning with increasing annoyance. Once his hands slipped into hers— or rather, he engulfed her hand with his own— she guided it to her distended stomach slowly, and placed the clawed appendage atop it.

Any other mother may have been terrified at the sight of a huge green hand equipped with claws sharp enough to put any razor to shame so close to her unborn child, but again, ChiChi was no ordinary mother. Time and time again it had been proven that she could trust this snarky alien leaning over her, jaw slackening in awe at the little kicks and rolls her Goten was performing. Something fuzzy tickled her heart just at the sight of him, unable to hide the intrigue and fondness blooming in his gaze.

“Amazing isn’t it? And he’s actually being pretty tame right now. Usually it feels like he’s training for the next World Martial Arts Tournament.” She felt the coolness of his skin even through two layers of clothing and it was both strange and reassuring. Goten was moving less frequently now, his little feet pushing at her abdomen every other minute, and ChiChi was silently relieved; Piccolo’s fingers twitch to match Goten’s movement, but he can sense he exhaustion as well.

“How are you feeling, honestly? And don’t give me any bullshit about being fine because you’ve got…” Piccolo lifted his hand from her stomach delicately only to wave it errantly in the air, giving her a no-nonsense look that she was kind of impressed with. “I dunno, chores or something to do. Gohan and I can take care of that.” There he goes again, signing himself up for menial human crap.

Teeth worried pink, chapped lips as she looked around the kitchen thoughtfully; a few more hours of rest sounded heavenly, and she was rather frustrated with her unborn son for wanting to act up every time she got busy. “Since when did you become the boss around here?” Damn, she could have at least managed to put some conviction behind that. He smirked at her too; he knew she was done for.

“Since you decided to become some kind of Super Mom. You’re catching a break here,” Without warning or notice for her to protest, a pair of burly emerald arms scoop her out of the chair, cradling her to his chest as if she were the newborn, “so take it, and get some rest. The day won’t be wasted, I assure you.”

ChiChi’s protests were falling on deaf ears—purposefully, how could he not hear her yowling and complaining even if his ears weren’t superhuman? —as he meandered through the cottage, ducking down through the doorway of her bedroom. No, his arms did not hesitate to deposit her gently on the bed, and no, his gaze did not linger on the tiny puckered pout that had formed on her face during the trip. Not to mention, he definitely did not miss the warmth of her body curled against his chest, although it seemed that some of it had seeped through into him, his memories. Piccolo had minded that, though. He minded that one a lot.

“Thanks, you stubborn jerk. I’m pregnant not crippled, you had better get the right idea! But since you’re here, and you diiid offer…” ChiChi shifted to lean over to her bedside table, swiftly scribbling on the handy notepad she kept there. With a clean tear, she held the list up to her stoic helper, smile sweeter than honey. “Just a few things I had on my agenda today, nothing a big strong guy like you can’t handle, right?”

What had he gotten himself into? One hand rubbing his temple, he reached out and plucked the list from her fingers, giving it a once-over before snarling down at her. “What the hell, there’s at least thirty things to do on here! How could even you do this all in one day?”

“It’s called being a mother, you should try it sometime!”

“No thanks, I’m much more suited to meditating and training that brat of yours.”

“Call him that again and you won’t be training anyone anytime soon, especially either of my boys!” Once again, she had matched his expression, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how hers was so much more intimidating. Arms crossed in defeat, Piccolo crumbles the list in his grasp and glares down at her. “That’s more like it! But honestly, make up your mind, because I need all of that done today. Now, I can do it myself, or I can stay put, so what is it gonna be?” Another withering look is cast in his direction and he bit his tongue—she was obviously crabby but it wouldn’t do him any good to say so.

“Oh, damnit all woman, it’s a few menial chores and some heavy lifting. Don’t worry your chatty little head.” The former demon gave her a once over, picking up the far edge of the blanket and tossing it over her as if to make his point. “I’ll take care of the big stuff and pick up the br—Gohan, to finish the rest. Won’t take more than a few hours—long enough for you to take a nap. And bathe.” He didn’t need to crinkle nose to illustrate, but he did it anyway, just to see that cute enraged look on her face.

Wait, he didn’t mean cute, he meant…

His train of thought was cut short by a pillow to the face, and he can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes his mouth before he tosses it back. His cape swirled upon his exit, its swooshing not near loud enough to mask her searing remarks but he simply smirked to himself, and shut the door. If ChiChi wasn’t tuckered out before, she damn well had better be now. The same cape that helped him escape fluttered behind him in the breeze when he strode out of the cottage, pouring over the list once more; Piccolo had no regrets about putting her on bed rest for today, and no matter how standoffish he was, he could at least admit to himself that he was worried for her. Now, why exactly was a can of worms for another day... 

When was the last time the headstrong woman had been manhandled in such a fashion without her consent? ChiChi flopped back against her pillows and drew the blanket up to her chin, thinking of her late husband. Albeit careless sometimes, he had loved hoisting her up to grab things or spinning her around when he was elated about something. Sadness tinged the smile on her lips, fingertips brushing the swollen area of her stomach. She was unsure if Goku had even known about his second son before he died, and the thought turned her expression bitter. It didn’t matter now, anyway. Exhaustion was creeping up on her, and in the mist of sleep the image of Goku smiling down at his firstborn morphed into one of a fanged smile framed by green lips and a clawed hand jostled by the movements of another Saiyan child to come. Sorrow lost out to the content of an assured mother, but it was debatable whether she’d remember when she awoke.