oooooh! for blushy blush face thing! how about some Nath Noir... like Chat Noir kisses Nath cause he's used to doing it as Adrien but then he realizes he's Chat and he's all C2! like oop! Meanwhile Nath is B1, like super confused and BLUSH BLUSH!
You were standing side stage, watching your boyfriend playing guitar. It was always something you enjoyed. Watching Tony pour himself into a show and have such a good time playing was something you never wanted to let go. However, right now, it was hard to focus on anything other than his fingers that moved delicately yet rapidly over his instrument, and not the one you wanted. He had been busy lately and hadn’t really been in the mood to do anything other than sleep. You had tonight planned, right down to getting the others out of the bus.
“Good night, Chicago!” You heard Vic yell out and immediately snapped your eyes up to the guys coming off stage. You wrapped your arms around Tony as he reached you, already having handed his guitar to their guitar tech.
“You did so well,” you whispered, ignoring the sweat covering his body as you pulled him closer. “As always,” you added as an afterthought and pulled back enough to peck his lips before pulling away completely and giving the others a hug. “You got me covered?” You whispered to Vic.
“Of course.” You smirked and pulled away as he did. “You owe me money for this.”
“I’m asking you to go party with a multitude of your friends, not to lick me.” His eyes widened before he grumbled something about not wanting to lick me anyways. You shrugged and turned back to Tony, who was wiping his face with a towel to get some of the moisture off. “Vic, Jaime, and Mike are going to a party. Do you want to go or head back to the bus with me?” This was the only part that there wasn’t really any way you could influence anything.
“I’ll head back to the bus with you. I’m not really in the party mood.” You nodded and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “We’ll see you guys later? One of you stay relatively sober.” You rolled your eyes and we began the walk to the bus.
“You know I love you right?” You asked casually. Tony looked at you weirdly before nodding. “And you love me too?” Your insecurities crept into your head. You didn’t want the night to turn into a pity party for yourself while you locked yourself in the back lounge.
“Of course, babe. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You nodded slowly and then glanced at Tony.
“I just miss you is all.”
“But we’re always spending time together?” It came out as a question since he was so confused. You gave him a look and realization crossed his face. “Oooooh.” He drug out the ‘o'and then smirked. “Is that why the guys are out tonight?” A blush rose to your cheeks.
“Maybe a bit.” He grinned and pulled you into the bus. Your eyes widened when his lips pressed against yours before you closed them and wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands gripped your hips. His lips moved to your neck.
“Tell me what you want,“he whispered against your neck.
"I just want you to touch me like you touch your fucking guitar,” you dared to say. You could feel the smirk against your neck and he bit into the skin, not hard enough to break skin. “Fuck,” you groaned. “I just want you.”
“That can be arranged,” he whispered huskily. “Now jump.” You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your eyes closed as he pressed his lips to yours again. You could feel him walking and figured you would be in his bunk in a matter of seconds. He had different ideas.
“The back lounge?” You breathed as he kissed your jaw and then your collarbones. “Tony, people spend their time here.”
“Your point?” He asked and you could feel him in his turned on state pressing against you. You moaned as he hit the spot on your neck and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up a bit. He let you go to pull it off completely. You were holding yourself up now as he threw it to the side and laid you down on the couch they had in the lounge. His hands moved under your shirt until you finally pulled it off, needing more contact. He pulled you up and unclasped your bra, obviously becoming impatient. He gave attention to both of your breasts and then began to travel further down. You went to touch him, but he grabbed your wrists, pinning your hands above your head.
“Tony,” you groaned in annoyance.
“If you touch me, I’ll stop,” he threatened. Your eyes widened. He’d done this before. Dominant Tony was your second favorite thing in the world, just him in general being the first. He let you go and continued. You fought back the urge to run your hands through his hair as he unbuttoned the shorts you were wearing and pulled both your shorts and underwear down at the same time. His eyes trailed over you. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed and then his tongue was on the place you need it the most. You moaned as it moved around. You moaned your hands and gripped his hair. He immediately pulled back.
“Shit,” you cursed and moved your hands quickly. “Fuck.”
“Since you can’t control yourself, you’re going to have to do something for me instead.” He unzipped his pants and pulled them down before doing the same with his boxers. He looked at you before gesturing to his dick. “It’s not going to suck itself.” You rolled your eyes with a smile.
“I should fucking slap you.”
“Oh, please do.” You held up your middle finger before wrapping your lips around him. He let out a groan. “God, I needed this. Fuck, (Y/N). I almost forgot how goddamn good you were at this.” You would have smirked if your mouth wasn’t full, but alas it was. You bobbed your head up and down and he threaded his fingers through your hair.
“I’m going to need you to stop so that I can be inside you.” His sentence ended in a moan. He pulled you up and laid back, pulling you down on top of him. He leaned over and grabbed his pants, pulling the foil package out. He opened it and quickly put the condom on. You gasped as he entered you and then moaned.
“Shit, Tony.” He guided you as you moved on top of him. “God, I love you,” You whimpered as he thrusted up into you.
“I’m so close, (Y/N).” You had gotten him closer than You had thought. Your hands landed on his chest for balance as you moved over him. He pulled you to him, pressing his lips to yours. You could feel the familiar feeling in your stomach. You hadn’t done this in so long, and you were so ready for it that it was hard to contain. Tony flipped you over and went faster, rubbing your most sensitive spot in the process. You wanted to scream in ecstasy but didn’t want people to think we were shooting porn in here.
“Tony!” You screamed as he hit the spot you were hopping for him to find. All hope of being quiet was lost. “Right there,” you breathed.
“I- Shit.” Before you could say anything, he was shuddering over you, an orgasm wracking his body. You were soon to follow, both of you moaning each other’s names. He pulled out of you and disposed of the condom before returning back to you and picking you up, carrying to the bunk you two shared and crawling in after placing you in there. “Hey, babe. Don’t ever let me say I don’t want to make love to you, okay?” You laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips before snuggling into him.
“Tony, (Y/N)! Get your damn clothes out of the back lounge!” You heard Jaime yell in the morning. You groggily opened your eyes, realizing that instead of being naked like you had been when you fell asleep that you were in Tony’s shirt and a pair of his boxers. You glanced up at him and saw that he was awake as well. “I take it you two had fun last night,” Jaime said with a smirk as he opened the curtain to your bunk.
“You too,” you retorted, noticing the bags under his eyes and the way he squinted in the light. He rolled his eyes playfully.
“Yeah, yeah. Just get up so that we can go get some breakfast.” He left afterwards and you looked up at Tony.
“I love you,” you whispered and pressed a small kiss to his chest.
“I love you too.” Then you were being tugged out to get ready for breakfast.
This is absolute shit and the first smutty thing I’ve ever written.
Dean and I have a lot of different interactions so I’m gonna try to organize the posts about them a different way.
Thursday was kinda eventful if I say so myself.
On my way to fill up my water bottle between first and second period, Dean caught a glimpse of me and literally RAN to the water fountain to keep me from filling up my bottle.
“No water during class transition.” He said with stupid smug look on his face, even though I fill up my bottle during every transition everyday.
I use the bathroom every period to catch a glimpse of him sitting in the hall since him and another administrator chill in the hall all damn day. When I went to use the bathroom during second period he walked by me with a weird look on his face.
“You look good.” He mumbled as he passed by me.
I immediately giggled and turned to watch him walk away. He’s an idiot.
When I went to use the bathroom third period, I stopped to talk to him and the other administrator, we’ll just call him Admin, at their post. Admin got up and walked to their office, leaving just Dean and me. I had a cherry flavored lollipop in my mouth.
[SIDENOTE: I eat a lot of lollipops around Dean.]
“Let me get some of your lollipop.” He said, leaning forward in his chair.
“It was in my mouth, though. You sure?” Knowing he wouldn’t care.
He shrugged in response so I held the lollipop out, smirking. We weren’t alone in the hall so he ended up shaking his head.
“Nah, it would be inappropriate.” He grumbled, obviously a little disappointed.
I just kinda laughed and told him I’d give him one later.
While we were at lunch he walked by my table and pointed at me saying “Ms.[my last name], I need to talk to you.”
Needless to say, I got scared and was worried about it all lunch long.
At the end Of lunch I held back so we’d be the last ones up the steps and I could ask him about it. Long story short, I’d given one of my teachers attitude and that apparently isn’t very student government like behavior. (I’m the head of community service)
When I went to defend myself he immediately rushed to say “I can see you giving Mr. D sass.”
“Ok have you actually seen me give him sass or is it that you can picture me giving him sass?” I shoot back
He replies with, and I swear this is true, “I know you give him sass because I stick my head in the back door to try to get your attention all the time and have, in fact, witnessed you giving him sass.”
Which of course gave me a mini heart attack.
My fourth period class is a computer based one so I always make up excuses to get out and wonder the halls in hopes to bother Dean, who just so happened to walk into my class when I was getting my note written.
“How are you getting out of class this time, nerd?” He started to peer over my shoulder at the note.
I didn’t wanna tell him since it was a teacher he’s always joking about me having a crush (even though he knows that it’s himself I’m crushing on) on and saying that that particular teacher is my favorite instead of he himself.
So I didn’t let him see it and went to wait in the doorway of my class.
When Dean walked by me to leave the room, he tried to snatch the note out of my hand. I’m lowkey a ninja tho so he was unsuccessful.
“[My name], let me see the note.” He was all stern like and put his hips and it was super cute.
I sighed and held the note up in his face.
“Oooooh of course it’s a note to go to his room. That’s crazy considering I was abouta ask you to come hang out with me in my office.”
I literally have no shame cuz I was all “WELL IF THATS THE CASE forget said teacher I’ll just go in your office.” like super fast.
He shook his head and started walking away but gave me the universal hand sign for “wait a second.”
I waited for more than a second though I waited all fuckin period and the dumbass didn’t come get me.
When I went to use the bathroom during fifth period I went over to his post and started bugging him to let me use his pen.
“Where are you going with my pen?” He asked after finally giving it up.
“To the office to sign something real quick.”
“Oh damn well I was gonna take you somewhere but guess not.”
Which also made me show that I have no shame cuz I was all “Where you tryna take me cuz I mean we can go.” all fast n stuff.
He just shrugged though and was all “Oh too late ya lost your chance.”
At this point I was pissed cuz that was the second time today so I just tossed him his pen and went to class.
He texted me after school asking if I was excited for prom and who I was going with.
I told him not really but I’m going anyways and also some girl that we’ll name S. (Not to be confused with my lesbian Best friend J)
He knows I’m Bisexual and knows S has a boyfriend so he was all “Ooooh you home wrecker. Try not to seduce her.”
I replied: “Lol I’ll try not to I don’t think it’s my strong suit anyways.”
Dean: “You’re okay at it. Could be better 😉”
Me: “Wow ok I’ll keep that in mind.”
Dean: “I’m just messing with ya nerd.”
Me: “Hmmm yeah ok.”
Dean: “Was gonna pull you aside today but then thought better of it yanno.”
(I don’t know why he types y'know like that)
I was complaining about getting into trouble and I was all “So when I gonna get perks for being your favorite student.”
And he goes
I SWEAR After you graduate
I doodled this last night for a small blurb I wrote between Jacky and Alf. I’m usually pinging several characters off of each other when I RP. Jacky and Alf were having a rough spell, so I typed up a thing for them to clean up my mess. It’s full of out of context RP references (obviously, Wreck it Ralph does not belong to me, we just use it to spice up our playground). The art is a bit off model? I really think it takes away from Big Alf to make him look too much like his smaller self. I need to add some of the cartoony-ness back to his face. If you’re lookin’ for RP, join us on discord: discord.gg/RFTe8eY Everyone hangs out in #general.
It was the same story, different day. Alf had gone looking for Jacky. He fell easily into his old habits, and took care in them, enjoyed them even. He was weak in resisting that kind of thing, but his motives had changed. He had a plan that amounted to more than just a fuzzy excuse to find something to do, and he was driven by it, as well as a belated admittance by one of Whisk’s Crinkles that she had never gotten her truce letter. She didn’t know, and that had to be fixed. It took a little over a week to get his first clue. He made short trips to the terminal every afternoon. On the ninth day he found her scent trail at the Hero’s Duty gate and took a hiatus from Jurassic Park to follow it back to the power line. From there it weaved in and out of many places. It took him to a suburban neighborhood down the road from Litwak’s Family Fun Center, to a private desktop housing an installation of Guild Wars 2. The hunt would have become hopeless had she not grown overly fond of a snowy community near the starting area, where everyone was as tall, or taller than he was. He found that especially helpful for hiding, and especially confusing for just the same reason. It was like she wasn’t watching for him at all. He spent a full day and a half in local fashion, watching her do busy tasks. Coming and going from market-men to crafts benches, fully immersed in the game’s culture. She passed his table many times. She even tripped on his foot and apologized- and never saw him. He didn’t understand. Alf made his move the same night. He bided his time until her inner craftsman was satisfied for the day, and followed her back to a quieter place. She gave him the ideal opportunity when she mosied into a backshed. Its windows were ice blocks and it had a single door. It was small enough that he could have stretched an arm from the front to back wall, and the door was tall but thin. Just half of his body filled it fully. She jumped when she turned, and he tried not to grin. "Gotcha.“ Jacky’s face paled. She looked from his head, down to his feet, and saw no more room to wriggle through than a gerbil would find in a wire cage. Gotcha, alright. "Alf?” He didn’t like the way she said it. She didn’t sound convinced. She tried to beat him to the breathing spaces between the sloping roof edges and the tops of the walls, but he snatched her down and held her out in a hand. "EY-Ey! Ain’t no need for that.“ Alf snapped, as softly as old habits would allow, then pointed an unfiled claw in her direction. "You’re caught. Nothin’ you can do about that. So just be still and listen.” Jacky stilled. There were things she could wriggle out of, but Alf’s hand was not one of them. She looked up quizzically and then sagged. Her body language spoke volumes to him. Issac wasn’t the only person he had a private language with. What, Alf? "You shouldn’t have taken my shit.“ Alf started. "You two pissed me off somethin’ awful, and I’m not over it.” Before she could be rattle back at him, his claw advanced toward her, and then descended to lift her arm by the palm, forcing an awkward hand shake. “That said, we’re squared. I’m calling a truce.” He waited for her to pick her jaw up off the floor, and then gently lowered her to the ground. "You know what truce means?“ "Yeah.” "Then why you still makin’ that face?“ "I don’t understand.” She gave him a bewildered look, then stepped back when he knelt at the doorway, even squinted a little. He didn’t look like himself. He did, but he didn’t. The scruff was new. "I know you didn’t do what they say you did.“ Alf explained, resting an elbow on his knee and resisting the urge to check over his shoulder for onlookers. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, she’d be gone like a flash, truce or not, and he needed this done. "We found the real monster. Killed it, too.” He raised a hand when she started to open her mouth. “But you did steal from a bunch of Familiars, and you know what they’re like, so don’t expect they’ll get over it.” Jacky returned with a knowing shrug. Que Sera, Sera. "Does Beel know?“ She ventured. "No. You’ll tell him.” Alf was happy to leave that to Jacky. She was the priority. Beel seemed impervious to unhappiness and had an ocean of cropmates to get lost in. Jacky was the one that seemed to have gone a thousand miles from home to avoid him, and he took pride in that, he really did, but it was starting to feel like cheap pride. “You better find your dragon bitch friend and send her some reassurance. She was lookin’ for you.” Alf stood to leave, but stalled before unblocking the doorway. He knelt again, and leaned as if to whisper. It would have been easier had the door been wide enough to fit his snow-dusted shoulders. "Hey, when you eat blue bread… how long until you’re hungry again?“ His face read uncertainty. "Uh.” Jacky leaned back, but not too far. “A while. I guess? I mea- Oooooh.” Her face got distant. She suddenly knew why he was asking. “I had that thought too.” The dark thought. The one about DYING. The one that had made her wonder if she wasn’t hungry because she had actually kicked the bucket when she crossed between worlds. “I think it’s the bread, cause it took a while for the hunger to go away but after a couple of weeks it… did?” Alf breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay.“ Another sigh. ”Okay. Good.“ Not dead. He stalled again, then opened his mouth for slightly more important business. "I’m sorry.” He said weakly. It was followed by a long silence. He evened out his voice for the rest. “You deserved some shit for taking my stuff, but you didn’t deserve what you got over something you didn’t do.” He frowned, and flexed his claws in front of him. Apologies were a strange concept. He decidedly quickly that he didn’t like them, but a few words had been repeating back to him. Caught and dragged. He didn’t want to be that person.
Jacky resisted the urge to slap her own face, surely she was dreaming, such sensibility would never come out of Alf’s bear trap. She raised a hand and when everything else failed her, she plopped it on his head and scritched. That was revenge enough. This was a side of Alf that needed to be re-enforced. The appalled look on his face made it perfect. "Good boy.“
What made Rhys think he could have a nice afternoon out?
It had gone well enough in the beginning. He and Jack had pulled up to the quaint little vineyard, chatted a little bit with the other couples, and even sampled some fruit and cheese that was absolutely to die for. Rhys had relaxed, figuring that nothing could possibly go wrong.
But then they’d brought out the wine. And Rhys had realized far too late that Jack had no idea how to properly do a tasting.
For someone with millions of dollars to spend at his leisure, Rhys figured Jack would know at least a little bit about the kind of procedural etiquette that came with bougie activities like tasting wine. At the very least, Rhys thought that Jack understood the concept of tasting, that this wasn’t a frat party or a competition, and that the emphasis was on variety rather than volume.
They were four wines into the tasting when Rhys had realized that his husband had drunk his entire glass instead of spitting, and by then it was far too late to do anything except fervently apologize as he tried to pry his tipsy husband off of the poor, balding accountant Jack believed had been making eyes at Rhys.
“You think I didn’t notice…notice the way you’re lookin’ at him?” Jack slurred, shaking the man by his grey blazer. “I’ll frikkin’ kill you…idiot…”
“Jack, stop it, let go of him!” Rhys hissed, arms wrapped tightly about Jack’s waist, trying to pull him away while not yanking his tipsy ass completely, likely taking the hapless young man with him. Jack swayed with Rhys’ efforts but still shook the terrified man in his clutches.
“You…you think you gotta bigger dick n’ me or somethin’? Thinkin’ you can just whip it out and steal my husband…well guess what, dumbnut? I’ll show ya exactly what you’re up against—!”
“Okay, no!” Rhys screeched, cheeks bright pink as Jack finally let go of the man only to start fumbling with his zipper. The young man slapped aside Jack’s hands, cupping his own over his crotch as to shield it from Jack’s drunken machismo. The older man stared dumbly at the hands covering his junk, only for a lecherous, drunken grin to spread over his face.
“Oooooh, Rhysie, you sly little thin—“ Jack belched loudly, swaying in place as Rhys carefully turned him around, sliding his arm underneath Jack’s pits to support him as he tried to drag the older man back to their car.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry….sorry…” Rhys apologized limply, digging in Jack’s pocket for his wallet and shoving some hundred dollar bills to the poor accountant’s stunned wife, as well as the sommelier who had been running the tasting. No one was going to call the police on the CEO of Hyperion, but damn it, Rhys felt really bad that his asshole of a husband had caused such a scene for these people.
“I’m never taking you anywhere ever again.” Rhys hissed as he shoved Jack into the passengers seat, aggressively belting him down as the older man tried to get handsy with him, only for Rhys to slap him away and wag a stern finger in front of the man’s dazed eyes.
“You’re not getting any of this until you make it up to me. And you’re going to have to get me a whole new wardrobe to make up for this.”
Jack responded by pitching sideways and throwing up all over Rhys’ slacks.
Piccolo was not entirely sure how he had been dragged into joining Chichi and Gohan for an outing all of the way out at Kame House, but there he was, standing awkwardly on the beach while the others - Krillin, Gohan, Bulma, and Yamcha - frolicked in the waves. Chichi was sitting in a fold out chair that the namekian doubted could actually support her current weight. The concerned look on her face told him that she was thinking something along the same lines. It was also quite apparent that the heavily pregnant woman was stuck in the chair, plasticy supports sagging and squeaking as she tried and failed to adjust herself. He pursed his lips, wondering if he should offer help. He caught her eye, and she shrugged, apparently committing herself to being stuck, and sank back in the protesting chair. The namekian’s ears flicked. Alright then. He shifted from foot to foot, contemplating removing his training gear to cool off, but thought better of it as Vegeta and Roshi exited the small pink cottage. It simply wouldn’t do for the saiyan to think he was weak. As it were, Vegeta completely ignored him, huffing about before apparently deciding to go mope near Trunks, who was busy eating sand.
Bulma must have noticed her… Piccolo’s ears flicked, he was unsure what Vegeta was to her. Gohan had explained that people were not husbands and wives until they had been married, whatever the hell that meant, but he knew that Vegeta and Bulma had not undergone any ceremony besides making a baby… and he understood that marriage was not necessary for babymaking. He decided to go with ‘mate.’ Bulma must have noticed her mate and offspring, and splashed out of the water.
“Vegeta! Don’t let him eat sand! Trunks, Trunks that’s icky! Ugh if I didn’t know that he turned out cute and smart I’d be concerned.”
“He won’t be the same as the Trunks from the Future,” Vegeta snapped, and Piccolo tried very hard not to roll his eyes. “This timeline is going to be soft compared to his! Pity, that boy was almost worth something.”
“You’re such an ass, God, Vegeta! I don’t know why I keep you around. Ugh.”
Piccolo rolled his eyes, focusing his attention once more on Gohan; he too had exited the water, shaking his head like a dog, water droplets flying everywhere.
“I’ll watch Trunks, Bulma! I need practice for the baby.” He wore an infectious grin, and Piccolo felt his face soften as Gohan plopped down next to the infant.
“Oh, sure, Gohan. Thanks, that’s a big help.”
Vegeta snorted, but gave no indication that he planned to move from his position. Bulma seemed satisfied that at least one of the two would keep Trunks out of trouble as much as possible…
The namekian’s ears flicked and he refocused on Chichi as her chair once again squeaked in protest.
“Ugh, I do not miss being that huge. I felt like a blimp.”
“Thanks, Bulma,” Chichi’s reply came out more like a grunt than her usual voice. Piccolo snorted, catching the dangerous glint in the usually-tiny woman’s eyes. If she weren’t swollen to nearly twice her size with an impending second child, he had no doubt that Bulma would be flat on her back in the sand, and he would be fending off Vegeta from seeking revenge.
“How far along are you anyway?” Bulma had either ignored or not heard the threat.
“Thirty-three weeks,” Some of the tension left Chichi’s shoulders as she placed her hands on her belly, “almost to the day.” Piccolo heard her mention something vulgar under her breath. Bulma heard it too, and laughed.
“Well, that’s something. Just a little more, huh?”
“Mmm,” Chichi nodded, shifting again and the chair creaked dangerously. “Piccolo, Piccolo, can you help me up? I’d ask Bulma but…”
Piccolo grunted and strode over to her, not bothering with the outheld hands and simply scooping her up from under the arms. “Hey I’m with child, not a child!” But she was soon on her feet, grumbling and face flushed. “Thank you, Beanie.”
Piccolo’s face flushed, and Chichi beamed.
“Beanie?” Bulma snorted, but Chichi tut-tutted, smoothing out her sundress. It was still incredibly modest, at least in comparison to 18 and Bulma’s swimwear, but a good deal more revealing than her usual outfits.
“Piccolo has been a true dear lately, there won’t be any mocking him.” He was about to remind her that he could take care of himself, but was abruptly cut off at the look of pain that creased Chichi’s face. “Oooooh,” she snatched at his shirt with one hand, rubbing her belly with the other.
“Are you alright?” Piccolo’s ears flicked, brow furrowing.
Chichi nodded, face pinched, waving him off.
“Just ah, just Braxton-Hicks.”
Piccolo did not know what that meant, but Bulma sighed in relief and apparently empathy.
“That’s a relief, imagine if you went into full blown labor out on the island, that would be a hassle.”
“You’re telling me,” Chichi muttered, straightening and shaking her head. “I don’t think there’s room for all of this on that tiny plane you brought.” Bulma laughed and nodded in agreement, said something about going to get a drink, and wandered off.
“What…” Piccolo paused, “what is a ‘Braxton-Hicks?’”
“False labor,” Chichi grunted, making another face. “I got them with Gohan too, it’s not a big deal, really more uncomfortable than anything. Ugh, those were a little close together…”
“Is that normal?”
Chichi shrugged, “they’re irregular, while real labor contractions get closer and closer together. I’ll know the difference.” Piccolo pinned his ears, deciding to trust her, even if her Ki level was raised above its normal level. Perhaps a side effect of the stress? Humans, he thought to himself, following Chichi as she made her way to a different, more supportive and sturdy looking chair, and helped her lower herself down down into the seat, were incredibly inefficient creatures. “Ooooh, this is getting old…”
“Correct me if I am wrong,” Piccolo pinned his ears, “but these…contractions, seem quite close together.”
“This is nothing, trust me,” Chichi huffed, even as her face pinched in pain. “Can you get me water and an umbrella? I’m probably just overheated and dehydrated.” Piccolo waved his hand, an umbrella materializing in the sand next to her chair, throwing shade over her.
After squeezing through the door to Kame House, Piccolo found the kitchen and a tall glass, filled it with water, and returned to Chichi. She still looked incredibly uncomfortable.
“Are you sure -” “I’m fine, Piccolo.”
He closed his eyes for a moment trying to decide if it would be worth the chewing out he would undoubtedly receive should he comment on her tone of voice. He determined that no, no it was not worth the energy expenditure. Not today. He handed her the glass of water and folded his legs up into his usual lotus position, hovering under the shade of the umbrella. He could sense her ki fluctuating, but chose not to comment. It was not as if he knew anything about human childbirth in the first place, and Chichi’s ki had been all over the place lately as it were. Still, he had a creeping suspicion that she was incorrect in saying that she was ‘just fine.’ Swallowing the urge to sigh, Piccolo closed his eyes and turned himself inward, seeking meditative calm.
It was always hard to keep track of time whilst deep in meditation. He was, however, jolted rudely out his trance as Chichi’s fingers dug into his bicep. It was all he could do not to yelp. As it were, the namekian jumped, jolting violently and wincing.
“What the hell, Chichi?”
She replied with a feral snarl, fingers tightening and nails biting into his skin. “…Chichi?” Pain was easy enough to ignore, and he pushed it to the side. Her ki flared, attracting the attention of Gohan, Krillin, Yamcha, and Vegeta.
“Mom?” Piccolo wasn’t looking at the boy, but he didn’t need to - the concern was dripping off of his voice. “N-Not now, Gohan,” Chichi panted, face reddening more and more by the second. Piccolo was reasonably certain she was going to tear off his arm. The entire limb was throbbing in agony. But, he managed to reason as Chichi’s hand somehow tightened even more around his bicep, whatever pain he was in was surely nothing compared to whatever the hell was happening to her.
“Holy hell, Chichi, are you in labor?” Krillin looked like he was going to faint. Yamcha ran into Kame House before Chichi could even reply, muttering something about towels and ice chips. Piccolo’s heart leapt up into his throat. The baby? Now? On the beach? That couldn’t be sanitary! Humans didn’t lay eggs, the infant would have no protection from all the - the - the everything!
“What’s this I’m hearing about Chichi in labor?” Bulma’s voice screeched from the doorway leading into the pink house. “Didjer water break?”
“I’M NOT IN LABOR!” Chichi sounded utterly unconvinced, tears pricking her eyes as her voice grew in pitch. “I HAVE AT LEAST SIX MORE WEEKS!” She let go of Piccolo’s arm in favor of the seat of the chair. It cracked under her grip.
Yamcha threw open one of the windows.
“I cleaned up the living room and laid out towels and have a bowl of ice chips!”
That sounded better than the beach.
Piccolo had no memory of actually making the decision to carry the screaming, belabored woman into the house, but, there they were, in the living room, with Chichi propped up against the wall by pillows and one of Piccolo’s arms. She was still trying to deny that labor was indeed what was happening, loudly and shrilly insisting that she has merely in discomfort and had wet herself. By this point, everyone on the island was in some state of panic. Gohan was wringing his hands and asking if he could help, should he get go get Dende? a doctor? and it was causing Chichi even more stress. Krillin offered to take Gohan to the Lookout to fetch Dende, and Piccolo would thrown them both out the door if only he had a hand that Chichi was not using in some way. Those two were gone, and Vegeta had disappeared, using the excuse of taking Trunks home to flee the scene. Bulma kept asking Chichi of she wanted bourbon, then smacking herself on the forehead. “Of course not, you’re giving birth. Alcohol is bad for babies.”
Chichi was actually just crying at this point, her hair already drenched in sweat and face flushed an incredibly stressed out red. Piccolo was sweating, and he wished he could blame it on being uncomfortable on their proximity. In truth, she was crushing his hand with enough strength to rival the grip of a super saiyan.
“I don’t want to have this baby right now!” she sobbed, even as he watched a contraction ripple through her. “I can’t have this baby here, I can’t, Piccolo make it stop!” “What do you want me to do?” His voice cracked, eyebrows shooting up and crinkling his forehead.
“I don’t care just make it stop!” Piccolo looked helplessly around the room at the ghost white faces of Bulma and Yamcha. He mouthed “what do I do?” even as he adjusted his hold on her, the hand connected to the arm supporting her back tightening on her shoulder, drawing her closer to his chest. Chichi heaved a sob, her head falling onto his shoulder as another contraction rippled through her body. He wished he had removed his weights, the shoulder pad could not possibly be comfortable for her… Piccolo’s ears pinned against his skull, still hoping for an answer from Bulma or anyone else.
He tried to read Bulma’s lips, and was reasonably certain she said “just keep holding her,” and he swallowed, heart hammering.
“Can y’see the little feller yet?” Roshi asked, and Chichi’s eyes popped open.
“I don’t want that lecherous old pervert looking at me while I’m in labor!”
“Woaaahhh, Nellie! Ain’t nothing more disturbin’ than lady bits while there’s a baby -” Chichi screamed and somehow grabbed something to hurl at the Turtle Hermit.
“This is my - ”
“You heard her, Old Man!” Piccolo snapped, lips curling back over his long fangs, “get out of this room!” Roshi did not argue with Piccolo, and fled, muttering rude things under his breath as he did. Chichi’s fingers loosened on his hand, and he was suddenly aware of just how much the appendage was throbbing. It was probably broken. She tried to push herself up, heels slipping on the floor despite the towel beneath her, and Piccolo eased his arm from behind her. She made a noise as if to protest and snatched at his abused hand. “I’m just taking my weights off,” he wished he understood why she was so adamant about having his presence. It was not as if her pain was his doing! Nevertheless, the moment he was free of his cape and turban, he resumed his… duty… of holding her, supporting her through whatever this was. Just in time, too, he thought with a grimace as Chichi crunched his hand in hers. Another contraction. How far apart were they now? He glanced at the clock, trying to remember when the last one had happened, and kicking himself for not paying more close attention.
“Three minutes,” Bulma must have read his mind; she was sitting between Chichi’s knees and pulling capsules out of container. “I have an emergency birth kit in here somewhere…” Yamcha dabbed a wet washcloth over Chichi’s forehead, and offered her ice chips, which were refused in the form of an agonized yowl. Piccolo’s hand audibly cracked, and his eyes watered.
“Shouldn’t we be concerned?” he hissed, sweat pooling on his forehead and dripping down his face.
Bulma shook her head, still searching her capsule case.
“This is pretty normal.”
This was normal? How the hell had the human species survived? Humans willingly subjected themselves to this? It was so, so… so inefficient! And dangerous! He could feel Chichi’s ki puttering, lowering as she exhausted herself with this labor. “Oh, here it is! Okay, we’ve got gloves, sterile scissors, shoe laces, alcohol - not the fun kind, sorry guys - syringes, diapers, the works! Don’t worry, Chichi, we’ve gotcha covered!”
Chichi’s response was a small sob, and pushed back against Piccolo’s arm. She was so tired? How could she possibly finish this? What happened if she passed out?
As in answer to his silent fears, Dende, Krillin, and Gohan’s kis appeared on his radar. Good. Dende could at least help keep Chichi comfortable and conscious.
“Mom! I’ve got Dende! Piccolo is she okay?” Gohan dropped to his knees beside his mother, taking the cloth from Yamcha and attentively dabbing at the sweat beading on her forehead.
“I have never seen a human birth before,” Piccolo thought Dende looked faint. That was just what they needed, the guardian passing out on them. “But I am here to help, and I assisted with many eggs on Namek.”
“I’m not laying an egg! Piccolo,” Chichi struggled to sit up more before falling back against him with a cry, “gahhhh, Piccolo tell him I’m not laying an e–hhhaaaaaa!”
Piccolo gritted his teeth as Chichi furthered the destruction of his hand. Dende knelt beside Gohan, and placed a hand on Chichi’s shoulder. “What - are - you -” Chichi could not manage any more words as yet another contraction hit her.
“You are tired, I am restoring your energy.” Piccolo felt Chichi’s ki rise slowly, and some of the strain left her face. The relief was momentary, however, and Piccolo thought he heard Bulma mention something about being able to see the head. See the head? Chichi was screaming again, but at least now, it seemed, things were happening.
“We got a full head o’ hair, keep pushing, Chichi, push, ahhh there’s a shoulder - two shoulders!”
“Ahh this baby better grow up to be a doctor, oh my g— ahhhh,” Piccolo was unsure if his hand was so damaged he could no longer feel it, or if he had simply become used to the pain.
And then, quite suddenly it seemed, it was over, and Chichi was holding a messy, wet, wrinkly, and loud baby. Its sopping wet tail was already curling around Chichi’s wrist as she cried, kissing its face and murmuring sweet words to it. Bulma mentioned something about afterbirth, and looked as if she were pulling something out from between Chichi’s legs. Piccolo chose to look at his hand. Just like that, the pain came rushing back. At least it was an easy fix… In a haze, Piccolo stared at Chichi, at the baby, at Gohan. What… Why… Bloody towels were being rolled up by Yamcha, who had tears in his eyes and a smile on his face. Bulma was busy getting blankets to wrap Chichi and her newborn in. Roshi and Krillin were peering around the corner. Gohan was crying almost as hard as Chichi, petting the little hairy head as the baby nursed. Dende was sitting off to the side, looking slightly confused, but quite pleased. What had just happened?
“You’ve done this twice,” Piccolo deadpanned, dark eyes once again focusing on the tiny baby. A boy, he thought.
Chichi beamed at him; despite Dende’s healing powers, she still appeared immensely tired. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, cheeks red, eyes swollen and overflowing with tears. And yet… Piccolo’s stomach did a somersault, and he decided he did not want to pursue that thought. Too dangerous.
“Twice,” she affirmed, and he thought that she looked pleased.
“Why?” he was rooted to the spot, staring at her and the baby. “Why on Earth would you do this once, let alone twice?! You knew how absolutely terrible this was going to be, and yet you do it again! I don’t under -” Before he could react, Chichi had placed the baby into his open arms, and when that weight settled against him, something deep in his chest stirred, and his words were cut off, strangled in his throat. He gaped at the child in his arms, so comically small compared to him. He was afraid to move lest he accidentally crust the baby “…stand.” The end of his sentence slipped out, so small and quiet. The baby’s tail curled around his wrist, and, in that moment, he understood perfectly.
I've noticed you've been posting a lot of Faiz lately Oolong, is this your first time watching it? If so how are you enjoying it thus far? It's my favorite Rider show but it's also highly divisive so I figured I'd ask
It’s my first time, yeah
REALLY loving the aesthetics of the suits for the raiders and the Orphnoch.
The MISUNDERSTANDINGS are painful, but it dosen’t distract from the interesting story and the character development.
I fucking hate Masato Kusaka so fucking much. Oooooh this two-faced two-timing motherfucker gets me heated. I hope Mari doesn’t have to deal with this where-my-hug-at stalker piece of shit until the end of the series. I have to contain my rage every time somebody walks away from him and he does that shit-eating grin of his. This nigga would deadass catch some hands out in the streets. He is NOT a friend of justice
Fluffstravaganza commission for @transbirdetta who tumblr won’t let me tag. They wanted some Stan and Dipper bonding fluff. Hope you enjoy!
Thanks as always to @thesnadger for beta-ing, although I feel the need to point out that I came up with a pun in this story All By Myself.
froze at the bottom of the stairs, one hand tightening instinctively
around his coffee mug and the other curling into a fist. He cursed
inwardly. Which one of them had raised the dead this time?
One of the nerds most likely, although he wouldn’t entirely put it
past Mabel to do it as an excuse for family bonding.
right. He’d done this before. Admittedly, he hadn’t been in his
underwear then, but there was nothing to be done about that now.
He could probably take them by surprise as he entered the kitchen,
which would buy him enough time to grab a blunt (or not-so-blunt,
depending) implement off the wall. Then grab the kids and either
queue up another karaoke song or break out the industrial-sized
for this one, i went with an S/O who is really sweet and nice on the outside, but inwardly hates everyone - only expressing it to their close friends. And this is a little vague, so I wrote how they would take it.
thank you for the ask, dear anon! <3
At first, she furrows her eyebrows and frowns.
S/O was acting different than she thought S/O would.
Mainly; because S/O had confided in her about all of the annoyances she had about everyone.
S/O would secretly laugh behind people’s backs, but act all sweet and nice when the time came to talk to them.
It doesn’t particularly affect her much - so she doesn’t care.
But, she does almost blow S/O’s cover once.
Which, she’s sure that S/O talked shit about to their friends.
She can’t stand it when S/O is being two faced.
It makes her insecure, so she usually avoids talking about their social life.
Is S/O secretly talking about her, too?
If she’s being honest, she considers breaking it off with S/O until they mature to a point where they just don’t do that anymore.
it’s terrible, and she hates it, hates it, hates it.
“S/O, as much as I hate to say this, you really need to get your act together. Talking about people behind their backs and being two-faced like that won’t get you anywhere in life.”
She’ll actually take pointers from S/O’s behaviour.
She needs to build up this facade of a sweet and innocent girl who’s also venomous to disguise how scared she really is of the world.
And so she does.
She grins and laughs at people with S/O behind their backs.
She laughs and laughs.
But somewhere in the back of her head, she has to wonder.
Is S/O doing the same thing behind her back?
The answer, obviously, is no.
Why would S/O ever do something like that?
She’s relatively oblivious to this type of stuff, but she notices it.
However, she turns away from it and assures herself that this isn’t how S/O really is.
So, it’s no skin off of her nose.
But, S/O has to watch what they say around her, she’s very loose lipped.
Very loose lipped.
She almost exposes S/O on multiple occasions.
It’s a wonder that they didn’t break up with the girl.
Like Chiaki, she hates it.
Seeing people smile….that’s what she does her photography for, you know?
And what S/O is doing?
Well….she knows from experience how that can feel.
But, she doesn’t just think these things - she’ll quietly go out of her way to let the people she talks about know.
Even if that means costing her S/O’s trust and relationship - she doesn’t care.
A lot more people can smile this way.
When she first finds out - it kills her.
S/O - who was so nice, and loving, was actually like this?
She couldn’t begin to fathom it.
But, here was the truth, right in front of her face.
So, slowly, as to keep S/O close to her, she adapts and becomes just want S/O wants her to be.
Because in the end, she just wants to be loved and forgiven.
Even if that means becoming something she isn’t.
All she cares about is S/O.
The S/O that’s sweet to her.
She’ll do anything, anything for them.
So, she’ll turn away from it - pretend that aspect of them doesn’t exist.
Oh, how she wishes that it never caught up to them.
She acts oblivious and innocent, but she notices it.
How could her S/O - the ruler of another kingdom - talk like this?
About their friends? Family? Servants? The people?
She forces herself to endure it, telling herself that she loves S/O, and this will be nothing. Nothing at all.
But in the end, Sonia, you know it’s not true, don’t you?
Who would you really like to just punch in the face? - Oooooh, at the risk of being revealed as the salty bitch I am I will refrain from mentuoning certain names. Maybe not a punch, more like a good smack idk. But I guess really I’d love to punch that guy they let hang out in the oval office.
19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? - Can I force them to give up their money? Cause in that case I would take the richest asshole who is making money off the poor people of this world and force him to give up 2/3rds of his wealth to be distributed to people who need it.
24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. - Thick white bread with a good crust that is crusty but you can bite through it easily. Mayonnaise, deli mustard, sliced turkey, roast beef, thin sliced tomatoes, shredded lettuce, pepper jack cheese.