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kenkamishiro · 3 years

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Lost in Translation: Choujin X chapter 1

Fun fact, I was planning to do fan translations for Choujin X with a scan group until it could get a simulpub release, though I didn’t expect it to get one from the very first chapter lol. I’m happy though since it means everyone can read it right away and it doesn’t mess up my schedule.

So instead I’ll be making comparison notes between the EN and JP text to supplement the official translation. I’m not doing this because the official TL is bad (I actually think it’s pretty solid and I hope it will maintain this quality) but because it’s inevitable for something to be lost in translation, and it’s nice to have that additional context for theory crafting and whatnot.

If you want to read it on Twitter instead, the original thread is here, but this is the proofread and way more detailed version 😄

This translation isn’t wrong, but there’s an emphasis on それ (which is TLed as ‘it’) that connotes a stronger, “other, that thing” feeling that isn’t present here. The general idea behind this sentence is: That [becoming a Choujin] resembles more of a disease [than a transformation].

Ely talks like a tomboy, she uses rougher speech patterns and the pronoun オラ (ora), a derivative of the masculine 'ore'. But it's a bit old-fashioned (eg. すまなんだ) which makes sense considering her upbringing with her grandfather on a farm. Hence her country bumpkin speech pattern in English.

Not sure if I should use Ellie or Ely? Ellie makes more sense based on the kana, but Ishida explicitly called her Ely so I might stick with Ely for now... (also istg that blond guy with the huge chin is a reference, I've seen him somewhere)

Tokio, I know your teacher is annoying, but it's rude to call her that lol. This is basically the oppai equivalent of paisen (senpai backwards, it’s slangier). Similar thing actually happened with Ely describing her dream hubby as Goldilocks instead of blond; ‘kinpatsu’ (blond hair) was inverted to become ‘patsukin’, hence the translation as Goldilocks.

Kurohara Tokio (黒原トキオ) and Higashi Azuma (東アヅマ). Kurohara is a common surname, means 'black fields'. Tokio is in katakana, so it’s hard to say what kanji it could be. 'Toki' could be 時 (time) or 外喜 (outside + delight). The 'o' can be the common male name suffix 男 (boy).

But when I think of Tokio, I think of TK's song called 'tokio'. You can read the translated lyrics here. If these lyrics end up being relevant to Tokio's character development I will eat my shoe lol.

Higashi means 'east'. Azuma (which can also be romanized as Aduma, it’s a softer ‘zu’ sound which is why Tokio called Azuma ‘Aju’ earlier in the chapter before correcting himself) is an archaic form of ‘east’. So...this guy is literally East East. The Choujin X equivalent of Moon Moon 😂

Someone also informed me that Higashi Azuma is a station in Tokyo, though the kana are slightly different (アヅマ／あづま vs. あずま). They effectively sound the same though nowadays, if I have to be honest. It’s like comparing the difference between 애 and 에 in Korean.

Tbh this is minor, but worth mentioning just cause it changes the meaning a bit. Tokio is saying something more like, “Why are we even talking about this [the roly-polies] again?”

I think I heard people talking about how the official TL doesn’t match the original text, but personally I really like how this was translated! Sis is using the expression 「爪の垢を煎じて飲む」, which literally means “boiling the dirt under someone’s fingernails and drinking it”. By taking the dirt/grime under the fingernails of someone that you admire, and boiling it and drinking it like a tea, you can become more like them.

But because idioms don’t tend to directly translate well between languages, translators often have to adapt it so that the meaning still remains the same. In English the closest idiom we have to this is “rubbing off on someone.” The “holding hands” bit was added to replace the physical aspect of “taking the dirt from someone’s fingernails” and also contribute to Sis’s sassy and very informal way of speaking.

So Sis is saying in JP (ignoring her personal speech style for now):

You should take the dirt from under [Azuma's] fingernails and boil it so you can be more like him.

And now in ENG it becomes:

You guys should hold hands or something, then maybe he’ll rub off on you.

It now sounds natural in English, still carries the same meaning as the original text, and also suits the character’s speech pattern.

Moving on, in that same panel the literal TL of Tokio’s dialogue is, “Policeman Azuma got dispatched again today,” emphasizing Azuma’s heroic deeds along with his family connections to the police. Another thing I want to note is that this is the second time Azuma has been called 偉い (erai) so far - noble, and now great guy. I’ll just dump the general English definition of 偉い from Jisho here so you get the general idea:

Great; excellent; admirable; remarkable; distinguished; important; celebrated; famous; eminent

But you can tell from how people describe Azuma as 偉い that others look up to him, think he’s a great person and Mr. Perfect. Always being placed on a pedestal by others. (What are the odds this will affect his mentality after the Choujin serum?)

The meaning is still pretty much the same, but I’ll offer a slightly different perspective. Sis mentions that if she were Tokio, she’d burst from the [Azuma] complex. (Clearly Tokio and Azuma's relationship is gonna crack at some point)

Tokio mentions an idiom about hawks (taka) before recalling his childhood memory about vultures. Vultures are called 'hagewashi', but in the chapter it mentions they can also be called 'hagetaka' (buzzard/condor, literally bald hawk).

The kids call him names like "Hagetaka Tokio" and "Hageo". But Hagetaka Tokio only really works in JP cause Hagetaka kinda mimics his last name (Buzzard Tokio doesn't give the same vibe). Same with Hageo. Hage-o = Bald-o = Baldy.

I also think Buzzard was chosen over another name for a vulture like Condor because Buzzard can pass off as an insult.

I would have translated this as, “I wanted to be a lion too...” but this is just personal preference.

A continuation of the 「爪の垢を煎じて飲む」 expression Sis used earlier. Without the adapted idiom the exchange goes something like this:

Tokio: My sister said I should bring home the dirt from under your nails. Can I have some?

Azuma: ...huh? What for, that’s scary. No way.

Tokio: I have to boil it and drink it, apparently.

Azuma: Don’t even think about boiling or drinking it.

But since the 「爪の垢を煎じて飲む」 expression was modified to make it sound natural in English, it means this conversation has to be modified too.

JP: My sister said I should bring home the dirt from under your nails. Can I have some?

EN: My sister says we should hold hands...so I can be more like you. What do you think?

The “dirt from under your nails” part got adapted to “holding hands”, hence how the 1st line from Tokio becomes, “My sister says we should hold hands...so I can be more like you.” “Can I have some?” makes no sense now in this context now, so it was changed to “What do you think?” as a question to Azuma to keep the similar conversation flow going.

JP: ...huh? What for, that’s scary. No way.

EN: Huh? What’re you talking about? No thanks.

Azuma’s next line is similar enough to the JP text except for the removal of “scary”. I think the reason it was most likely removed is because leaving it as it is could be constituted as homophobic (2 boys holding hands, absolutely nothing scary about it as bible thumpers would like people to believe).

JP: I have to boil it and drink it, apparently.

EN: She said to hold hands so you’ll rub off on me.

Tokio’s response to that is explaining what he meant by his proposal. In the original text he lays out the latter half of the idiom (he doesn’t even realize it’s an expression, poor boy), and in English he does something similar by going into why his sister said they should hold hands (so Azuma can rub off on Tokio).

JP: Don’t even think about boiling or drinking it.

EN: C’mon. That’s not how things work.

Azuma’s then rebuts Tokio’s proposal as ridiculous. In the original text he drops a typical straight man response (don’t do *insert whatever ridiculous thing the idiot suggested*). But since Tokio’s proposal in English isn’t as preposterous, his rebuttal is toned down in response by telling him not to take it literally.

Ultimately, even though a lot of this dialogue was changed, I still think it was successful in maintaining the original’s intent. Tokio takes his sister’s sarcastic suggestion literally and brings it up to Azuma, who dismisses it as silly. It would be nice if we could keep the expression as it was in Japanese, but in instances like this where it’s played off of in multiple lines, that’s easier said than done.

軟体 isn’t an actual word, it’s made up of the kanji soft + body. So kinda like Elastigirl, but Flexi was chosen instead. It doesn’t sound 100% right, but I don’t think I could come up with anything better.

Replacing the しい in 楽しい with the C plus that elongated pronunciation makes Johnny sound even more like a stereotypical Yankee, which is why he sounds like that in English 😂

Random but I found it interesting how Azuma called Johnny a youkai (妖怪) instead of something like bakemono (化け物) or obake (お化け) since they’re shapeshifting monsters.

Tokio is worried that if he doesn't do something right now, he's going to lose his friendship with Azuma. The sentence is fine as it is though.

Azuma’s line can also be worded as, "No hard feelings, okay?"

Bestial = 獣化 (juuka) = beast+change = beast transformation

That’s it from me, if you have questions about the TL feel free to send an ask or reply to this post, I promise I’ll check my inbox more often this time 😂

#Choujin X #Translations #fyi i also went into the holding hands TL #tl;dr i don't think it's bad and suits it well #but that's just my opinion

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lesbian-deadpool · 3 years

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Happy Little Accidents

Part Two: Hope

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,317

Warnings: I don’t think there is any?? Crying/light angst, adoption process, stress??

Request: Yes

Summary: You work on getting you little girl back. And hope that it’s successful.

A/N: It’s been a long time coming, I haven’t proof read it or anything (but when do I ever? Lol), so bare that in mind.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

Being a pair of Avengers and going through the adoption process was so very complicated.

On one hand, you were well known across the globe. Household names.

But on the other. You were dangerous people, with violent past's -and futures to come- with more enemies than you could count. Some of which you didn't even know existed. And who in their right minds would ever let a child into that environment? People have been turned down for much less.

However.

You were basically celebrity's. And as everyone knows, that comes with a lot of special treatment. Even if you and Natasha -And most of, if not all of your team- denied to use any of it. But in this case? For little Hope? You would do whatever you had to.

So, it was thanks to that, that you were even allowed to be considered for adoption.

And there was so much work that had to be done.

Papers to sign, meetings to attend, visits and screenings every which way. And so much more.

It was a long and tedious journey. And you still had a long way to go.

Right now, you had to watch as someone picked apart your home -once again- to make sure it was okay for your little girl to come home. Where she belongs.

You had moved not too long ago, maybe a little over two months, and in that time, it had been looked at three times. Which really made it seem like you weren't doing anything, in their eyes, considering you were busy working and renovating the whole place out at the same time.

The day after you and Natasha had to say goodbye to Hope, you knew that you had to get a bigger place than the apartment you had both shared. And began looking for new homes the very same day.

Tony's help wasn't needed, you had plenty of money, but he insisted. So when you two found a townhouse that you absolutely adored, not too far from SHIELD HQ -where you both now worked most of the time. As when Fury found out that you were both to be adopting Hope- or trying to at least, the man lowered your hours and took you off missions altogether. Just until you were all settled-, the billionaire bought it for you, the moment he got wind of it.

You were moved in three days later. Deciding to work on the house while you lived there.

"So, where would the child be sleeping?" Your caseworker asked.

"Oh, right this way," you said, leading her down the hall to the newly decorated bedroom. Natasha following behind.

You gestured to the light pink, yet slightly sparse room. "This is it."

"We still have to pick up some of the furniture. But we've been waiting for the room to be decorated first," Natasha said, excusing the bare room.

"Yeah, Hope's not going to sleep on a stack of paint cans," you tried to joke. To which you barely got a smile from your caseworker, Stephany Halla.

"It look's decorated to me?"

"Oh." Natasha smiled. "We're having a friend of ours paint a mural or two on the walls."

"Yeah, Hope has a few favourite Avengers, so he's gonna paint them. And he's been learning how to draw cartoon characters for it, too."

"He's actually trying to adopt the two kids he took in with his fiance."

"Steve Rogers?" Stephany asked.

"That's the guy," you said, nodding along with Natasha.

"I've seen him around the office," She spoke again a few moments later. "So, when are you planning on getting the furniture for the room?"

"Hopefully, within a month," Natasha replied, "But with our and Steve's schedules, things are up in the air."

It was a difficult start to the adoption process, more so than it was now. Considering that the children legally didn't exist to the world. So, everything was so confusing and thrown up into the air while waiting for the kids to be registered.

Almost like you didn't know whether you were coming or going. Everything stuck in limbo as you waited to see what kind of adoption process you would have to take. And even with all of your connections in the world, you were still left in the dark.

There was the fact that the kids were found overseas in Romania, so they could be considered Romanian. And so, you would have to go through international adoption.

However, none of the children have birth parents and were brought to America because you had rescued them. So, some would say they could be considered immigrants.

Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Babies that had been grown in a lab and saved from a further torturous life, that now needed legalization in the world's eyes.

You and Natasha had to watch as Government's essentially fought over these children you saved. Over the same child, you clothed and fed. The one you played games with and bonded with the little girl you grew to love and consider your own.

So, as the world fought for the right of your child, your little Hope, you waited. Just wishing and wanting to bring your daughter home.

But, luckily for you, the children were now classed as American citizens. Which made it ten times easier for you to adopt than it would otherwise.

Which is honestly just crazy to you, considering just how intensely hard this is.

There were times you didn't believe you could ever adopt your child.

On more than one occasion, Natasha would come to you, saddened to her core, because she truly believed that you would never have Hope in your family.

It was so fucking hard.

Natasha had rolled over one night after you two had -once again- gone through the rules and regulations of adopting. Uttering how you were, "Never going to get her back" that there was "Juts no way, they will let us adopt", as she cried into your arms.

But still, the process continued.

"Well, your home seems to be in good standing. So for. But I advise you to get the furniture for the child's room as soon as possible," Stephane commented as she began packing up her belongings and paperwork.

"Oh, we know."

"Steve did say that he was going to start work on it in the next few days," Natasha added, nodding along with you.

"Well, that's is good news." Stephane smiled. "I'll see you at our next meeting with Hope."

Natasha sighed happily. "We can't wait."

"Well, goodbye then."

You whished the dirty-blonde woman farewell, closing the door behind her.

"We get to see our daughter in a couple of weeks," your red-headed girlfriend said excitedly, dancing from side to side out of pure happiness. Her bright smile filling your soul with warmth, that travelled all the way into your bones.

You matched her emotions, hands coming to curve around her shoulder blades and pulling her close to you.

"I know, Honey. It's been so long since we've seen her. And we're gonna bring her home one day."

That was all you could say before your mouth was covered, with the crushing feeling of Natasha's plump lips against yours.

***

Nerves rattled through you, but you hadn't the faintest idea why, considering this wasn't the first time you had seen Hope. However, it had been one of the first times you were able to see her since the day she was taken away from you.

If you thought you were bad.

Natasha was far worse.

She was practically shaking. From nerves or excitement, you didn't know. But you had a good inkling to think that it was both.

You had done so much for this child in the short span of time you had known her.

And yet, you couldn't imagine your life any other way. The thought of how your life had been that time last year.

No Hope. Surrounded by missions and work. Every free moment you had was spent with Natasha, and the rag-tag group of hero's you had grown to call your family.

It all seemed so foreign now.

Like a past life.

'Wow', you thought, 'Maybe I really am growing up'.

A part of you was afraid that the girl you thought of as your daughter wouldn't recognise you or your []. And would be scared of the two strangers that had just barged their way into her life. Breaking both of your heart's.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Was the thing that greeted you, as soon as the door had swung open. Making you realise just how stupid your train of thought really was.

Natasha rushed forward, scooping the girl up into her arms, with a bright smile upon both of their faces.

"So, I still don't get a name, huh?" you joked, walking over to the reuniting girls.

Brushing a hand over Hope's short hair. Grinning when she reached her arms towards you, ready to give you a hug of your own, which you gratefully accepted.

"Don't worry," Natasha said, rubbing Hope's back as she hugged you, "You'll get a name soon."

"I better. Or else I'm gonna have ta tickle it out of her."

Hope's squeals reached your ears as you threateningly poked her side with your fingers.

"Here, baby. I'll save you," Natasha called, pulling the giggling girl from your arms. Both of them watching as you pulled your hand's in front of your face, wiggling the fingers almost spookily as them. The girls turned to each other, "They're silly."

Then they walked away.

With you calling after them.

"Hey! I may be silly, but-... I have no rebuttal!"

Natasha laughed at this, then greeted the care worker that was patiently waiting for you both. The one that you had only just noticed.

"Hello, Stephany," Natasha said in greeting, shaking the woman's hand. You following suit.

"Hey. How have you two been?"

"Missing this little one," Natasha replied, bouncing the girl on her waist. Receiving fun-filled giggles in return.

"I bet you have. And you, Y/N?"

"Exhausted," you told her honestly, "With moving house and everything, I just want to have Hope home, then sleep for a week."

The care worker laughed at that.

"Let's hope that that's sooner rather than later, then."

Your few hour's with Hope passed faster than you ever could have imagined. You played with blocks, ate lunch, "helped" Hope colour in her haphazardly filled colouring book. You absolutely adored the way her eyes lit up, and she started dancing and flailing her arms when she saw bubbles for the first time. You almost couldn't continue blowing them because of your bright smile.

And now you were watching as Natasha spoke gently to the little girl. Hope's hand's resting on the red-heads cheeks, watching her mother with such concentrating eyes.

You adored your little family.

You just wished you could have them all home.

'One day', you thought, 'one day'.

Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

Just like the last time.

And the time before that.

And the one before that.

It just got harder and harder each and every time you did this.

Hope was crying. And so was Natasha, albeit silently, as she tried to console the toddler.

"I know, my little love, I know-"

"Mommy!" Hope cried.

"I know, angel. We'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"Mommy!"

"I know."

Once in the car, you let your tears fall, Natasha sobbing in the seat beside you.

"I don't think I can keep on doing this anymore," you admitted. Deciding it was best you explained when Natasha turned to look at you, an incredulous look upon her face, "Keep on seeing her, and not being able to bring her home."

"We'll get there," your [] reached over the centre console to squeeze your hand, "We will. You're the one who's always saying that we've got to take after her namesake and have hope."

"But it almost seems endless, Nat."

"I know, honey." She wetly kissed your tear-stained cheek. Her lips, brushing against it as she continued, "We'll bring her home. I just know it."

"I hope you're right."

***

She was right.

Of course, she was right.

She was Natasha Romanoff, after all.

It was like she just had this inability to be wrong.

But in this case? You were so fucking happy about that.

Granted it had taken a while longer -a good eight months- but finally, you were here.

Exiting the courthouse with Hope in your arms, and Natasha by your side. Bright smiles upon all of your faces, about to take the little girl- Your daughter home.

You would never have to say goodbye to her, like that, ever again.

She was legally a part of your family now. And nothing would ever change that.

"Ready to go home, sweetpea?" Natasha asked the beaming girl.

"I don't know about you," you started, "But I think this deserves celebratory ice cream."

"I think you just want ice cream before dinner."

You gave an overdramatic gasp.

"Why I would never! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"

Natasha laughed at your antics but nonetheless nodded her head.

"I agree. This does deserve celebratory ice cream."

"Yes!" you exclaimed happily to Hope, your free arm raising above your head in victory, making the girl copy you by raising both of her arms.

She was already taking after you.

Your red-headed girlfriend sighed dreamily after you, as you chanted, "Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" On your way to the car.

She couldn't remember a time where she was this happy.

It had been a long time since then.

And Natasha just couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life would bring with the two of you now by her side.

***

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@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,

SFW Tag list:

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

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ultraimaginez · 3 years

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My Love Is Not A Joke - [Mammon x Reader]

Fandom: Obey Me! Ship: Mammon x gn! reader Word Count: 1.9k Rating: T A/N: just thinkin about the amount of effort it would take to convince mammon you actually like him and you’re not just being an ass to him like everyone else made me feel a lot of thiiiings and then this was born lol.

Mammon lives in a liminal space between fear and a love so fierce it threatens to consume him. It’s a hell of his own making-- too cowardly to tell you how he really feels and too devoted to let you go.

And so you are forced to exist in this hellish space with him. Each time you try to get close he pushes you away, afraid he’ll be the butt of just another joke. Each time you try to give him space he pulls you back in, terrified you might leave him. It’s an exhausting game of tug of war between his ego and his heart and, frankly, you’re sick of being the god damn rope.

Eventually you reach your breaking point.

You are lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying another days worth of back and forths between you and a certain white haired demon boy. This has become as much a part of your night time routine as putting on pajamas or brushing your teeth. Every flush of his cheeks-- be it in anger or embarrassment or affection-- every dumb argument, or sweet sentiment, or stupid joke. They all play like a never ending feedback loop in your mind. But tonight a thought strikes you as you roll over to finally try and get some sleep-- as long as Mammon is engaged in this endless war against himself you’ll be stuck in it right along side him. He’s never going to give himself peace. He’ll fight until there’s nothing left of himself. So if the two of you are going to get out of this mess it comes down to you.

It’s a scary thought, the idea you might have to be vulnerable and make the first actual move. Scary enough that you try and let it go. Maybe you can just sleep on it and think about it more in the morning.

But now you can’t think of anything else. The thought begins to ruminate in your brain and there’s no way you can sleep at this point. You stay awake all night wondering if there’s any other solution. Any other way out of this mess. It turns out you also exist in the liminal space between fear and love. The idea of telling Mammon how you feel is paralyzing. And so you go to school the next day not having slept at all.

This pattern continues for nearly a week. Each night you stare at your ceiling going round and round in circles. And maybe Mammon can take this awful tug of war but you certainly can’t. You don’t have millennia to stay away pondering this shit. You’re a mortal and you’re being driven in-fucking-sane. So finally, on the seventh night of nearly no god damn sleep, you fling off your covers and irritably begin stomping down the hall.

You ignore Beel who is hip deep inside the refrigerator cleaning it out of whatever the hell is left inside. You passively wave to Levi when he sticks his head out of his room to ask you to play games and mumble some lame excuse. You’re on a mission to resolve this once and for all and nothing will stop you.

You make a beeline to your destination and once you reach Mammon’s door you begin to pound on it aggressively.

A familiar voice rings out from inside. “Jeez, cool it, Lucifer. I told you, I’m working on it. I’ll have all these late assignments done by tomorrow just gimme some time.”

“It’s me.”

There’s a pause and you can’t practically hear the gears turning in Mammon’s head as he registers who is speaking.

“Oh well why the hell didn’t ya just say so? Come in.”

You open the door to his room and find Mammon sprawled out in one of the arm chairs in the center of his room. His feet are propped up on the table and his leather jacket is flung over the couch opposite of him, leaving him in his normal jeans and black shirt. You can tell he’s been running his fingers through his white hair in frustration as it’s mused and messier than normal and his brows are knit in concentration as he looks down at his notebooks.

“Stupid Lucifer. Makin’ me do all this damn work in one night. It’s not fair.” He says, tossing the books onto the table as you shut the door behind you and approach him.

You have a rebuttal about how it’s not exactly ‘unfair’ since all of that work had been assigned weeks ago, but it dies on your lips when he looks up at you. You can feel you heart jump into your throat as your eyes meet, the normal façade of the student mode dropped here where he is comfortable and alone. People often attribute fastidiousness with appearance with Asmo, but Mammon is usually just as put together. Seeing him so relaxed is special, it’s something you know he reserves for only people close to him.

Your not sure how long you stand there at the edge of his chair looking down at him but it must be longer than normal because the sound of Mammon clearing his throat pulls your attention. “Eh? Do I have something on my face? You’re staring and it’s weirding me out.” His cheeks are pink and he looks absolutely anywhere but your face. “Anyway, what the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night? Couldn’t wait to see me until tomorrow, huh?”

Well.. It’s now or never. You’ve plucked up enough courage to make it this far so you might as well commit.

“Mammon, I like you. A lot. And I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable but I just... do. So. Yeah... Do with that what you will.”

If you weren’t borderline unhinged from the complete lack of sleep and frayed nerves and being so vulnerable, you would find the way his eyes quadrupled in size fucking hilarious.

“Wha? What do you mean? Is this some sort of dumb prank.” You can see him looking past you at the door. He’s searching for his brothers, searching for a camera, searching for the evidence that this is all some elaborate joke at his expense. You can already hear the derisive laughter he’s waiting for playing in his head. ‘Stupid, Mammon.’ ‘How could you think they would ever like you?’ ‘Got you good, huh?’ ‘Actually thought that they might like you? You’re even dumber than we thought-’

You cut off whatever string of insults he’s playing in his own hand by gently touching his face, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“It’s not a joke, Mammon. I like you. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way but... I need you to know that.”

It’s clear that the moment you touch his skin his internalized war rises into a crescendo. It breaks you open to see his eyes soften with a vulnerability you’ve never seen before, blue gold shimmering with an emotion you can’t quite place but sends your heart hammering harder than it ever has before... and then immediately they harden again. “Do you have a fever or something?! Jeez, leave it to a human to get sick right when I’m supposed to be doing something else. I don’t always have time to be-”

He begins to rise from the chair and it’s clear he wants to run, wants to hide, wants to lick his wounds before they can even form. You can tell he’s already written this off as another joke at his expense. If you let him get away from you right now you’ll lose that look you found in his eyes just moments ago for good.

You push down on his shoulders, seating him in the chair again, and then wordlessly climb on top of him, pinning him beneath your weight. Surely he could pick you up and yeet you across the entire god damn room if he wanted to, but the action seems to break the string of negative self talk long enough for you to actually speak to him.

“Mammon.” You grab his face between your hands and force him to look at you. His expression is wild-- scared and hopeful and completely unguarded. “I. Like. You. And it’s not some joke. If you don’t feel the same way just tell me. But if you do-”

You don’t get to finish the rest of the sentence.

Mammon kisses you like you are oxygen and he’s on the verge of drowning. One hand shoots up to the back of your neck, pulling you close, tangling his long tanned fingers in your hair. The other comes to rest on your thigh. It’s all you can do to twine your own fingers through his soft white hair and pull him closer as he rocks into your body. You feel tears begin to well in the corner of your eyes as a surge of emotion races through you. You’ve never felt so much for one person in all your life. It’s enough to make you feel like you’re being crushed under the weight of it all.

At some point you physically can’t keep kissing him because you’re afraid you might actually suffocate. You pull back to take in a breath but he continues to hold you close, keeping his hands in your hair, lips still only inches from your own. You look at him, his eyes are more gold than blue now and you feel like you might catch fire if you look at him too long. You let out a breathy “Oh...”

Apparently he’s decided you’ve had enough time to breath and he’s on you again, pulling you close and making desperate little noises every time you part lips even briefly. You wonder if maybe you can die from catching on fire internally because every part of you feels like it’s engulfed in flames.

Eventually you manage to part again, long enough to put a hand on his chest and keep him from chasing your lips. You’re breathing heavily, trying to suck in air but finding it hard to do so when Mammon is looking at you like he’s just waiting for the chance to devour you again.

“So..” your voice comes out an octave higher than normal and your face turns scarlet, clearing your throat so you can try to speak somewhat normal. “Uh.. I take it... we’re on the same page then? Y’know... about... stuff...?” You’re not exactly eloquent but Mammon just kissed you to the point of ceasing brain function so, really, who can blame you?

There’s a beat of silence, and then Mammon speaks, voice deeper, quieter, and more serious than you’ve ever heard it before. “Don’t leave, okay?”

You’re not really sure what he’s referring to. Leave this chair? Leave the Devildom? Leave him? But he’s raw and real and so fucking perfect staring up at you perfectly kissed like that and the answer comes to you without thinking.

“Never. I’m never leaving. I’m here for as long as you want me.”

Suddenly both of his arms are around your waist, drawing you close. Your face is pushed into his neck and his into yours. You breathe in the smell of his aftershave and shampoo and you’ve never felt more at home. Your hearts are pressed up against one another and you know you’ve never felt more right than in this moment.

The last thing you hear him whisper as you drift off to sleep for the first time in nearly a week is a whispered. “Always... I’m always going to want you, silly human.”

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mammon x oc #obey me imagine #obey me imagines #obey me fic #fic #0-2k

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hannie-dul-set · 4 years

Text

between the aisles [kim mingyu]

“wherein you discover your feelings for your best friend in between the grocery aisles.”

PAIRING | kim mingyu x reader GENRE | best friends! au, fluff, comedy WARNING | language lol WORD COUNT | 2k

a/n: dedicated to @aborivin happy happy birthday, annie!! <3 this ended up longer than i anticipated, but hope i managed to bring your grocery gyu fantasies to reality LMAO

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong. it was right if you benefit from it, wrong if you did not. but what if you both gained and lost something along the way?

“y/n, look! this carrot has arms!”

that very voice had you sighing, questioning whether or not you had made the right decision today. whether or not you should have given in to his annoyingly endearing pout, his whiny, violence-inducing voice, or the overall kicked puppy look that he was bearing. in the end, you made the decision—

“gyu, put that down! oh my god— back on the pile, not in the cart!”

—the decision to bring kim mingyu, your irritating best friend whom you both want to punch and adore, grocery shopping with you.

“you’re so evil,” he accused, bringing the poor carrot to his chest, hugging it tightly in a protective hold as if you’d grab it from him. “don’t you have a heart? are you just gonna abandon this little guy?”

you frowned. “but i already bought vegetables last time! i showed you my list earlier and it didn’t involve vegetables, mingyu,” you reasoned, gesturing at your shopping cart to emphasize your point. it was partially filled with meat, bread, and everything else except for the produce that mingyu desperately wanted for whatever reason. he seemed adamant to keep it, the little, deformed orange root, but from your stern glare, he returned it back to the pile, although with a frown that he didn’t even bother to mask

“what’s one more?” mingyu grumbled in a soft voice before you two trucked further into the aisle. “he deserves a home too, you know.”

“his home is inside your belly, mingyu.”

he gasped. loudly. very loudly. thank god the grocery store was practically empty. “you take that back!”

from the sudden noise mingyu erupted, you instinctively moved forward to press your palms over his mouth, silencing him. yes, there were barely any customers around, but the employees were still around. you didn’t want to risk getting kicked out thanks to your best friend’s ineptitude to auditory appropriateness. his eyes were wide, staring at you in alarm and you could only harden your gaze. when he seemed to finally get the idea of you wanting him to shut the fuck up, you removed your hands, and he released a long huff of breath.

“okay—” you sighed, brushing your fingers through your hair before returning his curious glances. “how much do you want the fucking carrot?”

mingyu’s face lit up, his sharp canines bearing from the wideness of his grin, and you weren’t able to prevent a smile of your own from forming. one might think he won the lottery— not a mutated alien carrot that he had questionably gotten attached to.

“he is my son, y/n,” he proclaimed. “i’m not leaving without my son.”

it sometimes irked you how one look from him could immediately have you agreeing. you were going to monopolize his closet for this, dear god.

“go,” you sighed, and you didn’t expect him to smile even wider. “before i change my mind. i’m paying for this, remember?”

“oh my god, i love you,” the words slipped past his breath quickly. a little too quickly. he hugged you quickly, too. and the lingering feeling of his fleeting arms around you tingled over your skin belatedly when he had finally left and ran away to pick up his apparent son. he wasn’t there, but you were smiling at him, smiling at his back as he ran at to the end of the aisle, smiling when he shot back at you, raising the carrot in his hands to show it off, smiling when he finally returned to his spot before you.

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong. and right now, you've made the right decision. the stupid smile on your face says it all.

“y/n! thank you, thank you,” mingyu sang, dancing a little bit before gingerly placing the carrot on top of a cereal box inside the cart. “what’s next on the list?”

“oh, so now you care about my list?” you raised at arm to lightly smack him on the head. “ramen. don’t even say anything about preservatives, you wannabe food connoisseur. you’ve terrorized my grocery experience enough already.”

mingyu laughed, gently patting the spot on his hair where you hit him earlier, and he grinned at you. “aye aye, captain.”

the produce aisle and the instant food aisle were at the opposite ends of the grocery store spectrum— meaning that the distance needed to be covered was a bit too far for your liking. mingyu volunteered to push the shopping cart in your stead, humming along to the lyricless music blaring through the store’s speakers. he was walking at a pace far too slow for your liking, even with his long ass legs, causing you to sigh, stop, and look at him in exasperation.

“what’s wrong?” mingyu raised a brow, against the cart handles with his arms crossed.

“can’t you move a little faster? at this rate your son will start rotting before we even get to pay for him at the cash register.”

“well, we definitely won’t make it there if we stop moving,”

god you wanted to punch him. something about that stupid and smug look on his face just looked an exclusive invitation for your fist. mingyu continued strolling past you, eyeing the vast selection of milk inside the lines of freezers. still feeling bitter by your lack of a rebuttal, you resorted to physical tactics— shoving him forward as you passed by, which caused the poor guy to stumble and let out a shriek.

“again,” he breathed, barely hanging onto his life by clinging onto the freezer door handle. “you’re so evil.”

it was a surprise that it didn’t swing open and insinuated a cartoned dairy avalanche onto the male. you stuck your tongue out at him, stealing the cart away from him briskly walking away, not before shooting back a smug grin of your own. “if only you walked a little faster, gyu.”

you already passed another isle but he didn’t seem to be running after you, and it stirred your gut into unease. where the hell was he? the last thing you wanted to do today was file a missing child case. you thought of turning around, hoping that you’d spot him sneaking behind your back once you did. but the moment you stopped your movements to look behind, you felt like you were being carried into the air.

“what the fuckin— oh my god. put me down, you dumbass!”

you heard him giggle. you couldn’t see his face because the motherfucker was carrying you like a sack of potatoes right now, but you could imagine the shit eating expression he was wearing on his face right now. there was movement that you could feel— him leaning forward as well as the shuffling of contents inside your cart, and you could only ask yourself what in the world was he planning.

“there. perfect,” you were about to retort, scold him, and maybe even insert a little bit of profanities in between, but all that escaped from your lips was a high pitched scream because mingyu finally put you down, but the thing is—

he placed you inside the shopping cart.

the damned shopping cart. you couldn’t even fit inside as your legs were practically squeezing against your chest, so you had to have them dangling them out of the cart’s walls just so you can breathe.

“mingyu, what the fuck, i’m not for sale,” you were appalled, staring up at him wide-eyed and he was only grinning at you like a maniac.

“you wanted me to move faster, right?”

“well, yes, but— oh my fucking god, mingyu—!”

he was crazy. you had managed to conclude that amidst your frazzled state of mind because you were literally being steered around the grocery store’s aisles at the speed twenty-fucking-three miles per hour. your knuckles were getting cut off from blood by gripping onto the sides of the cart too tightly, and you couldn’t even think because all you could hear was wheels screeching against the slippery tiles juxtaposed with the sound of mingyu’s laughter.

“do you want me to go even faster?”

“i want you to trip over your own legs, you fucking maniac. what if we get kicked out?!”

“they can’t kick us out if they can’t catch us!”

you shot your head up to look at him, breathless from the sudden rush of adrenaline but even more so when you caught a glimpse of his widely smiling face. he stared down at you, laughing, hair flying against the wind, and the fluorescent lights of the store's ceiling raining on his golden skin made it seem like he was glowing. you weren’t sure if it was the sudden rush, or if you were also going crazy but—

had he always looked this radiant?

the cart stopped, knocking the air from your lungs, and you were finally snapped out of your dumbstruck daze. or so you thought, because the moment your eyes landed on your best friend once more— hair a mess, chest heaving, and an intoxicated smile on his face, you were deterred back into the previous screaming if your nerves.

what the fuck?

“okay, ramen,” he breathed out, probing the shelves filled with instant noodles to pick out your favorite ones. you only stared at him wordlessly. staring at the way his brows furrowed in concentration as he examined the selection, staring at the way his lips were formed in a slight pout, staring at the way he picked out a handful of the goods, until his gaze resigned back to yours with an inquisitive air. “do you want me to get you out of there or…?”

“o—oh yeah i can get out by myself, thanks,” you were still slightly out of it (well, very out of it), so it was a bit of a task to get yourself out of the tiny shopping cart. you were struggling, that you acknowledge, and it seems like mingyu did as well because you heard him release a chuckle, returning the stacks of ramen onto the shelves before coming to your rescue.

“there you go,” he hummed, pulling out of your predicament, and your feet were finally back on the ground “i was afraid you’d kill my son out of your carelessness.”

you smacked him, to which he let out a whine. “i might actually do after the whole stunt you pulled earlier.”

“but it was fun, right?”

you were about to bite back, opening your mouth to split another snarky comment, but you were only left speechless once you saw the eagerness from his upturned lips, the crinkling of his eyes, and you couldn’t help but mirror his gleam

“yeah…it was pretty fun.”

mingyu hummed in satisfaction, returning to his previous agenda of picking out the last item on your list. “let’s finish up this trip,” he said, throwing in a number of the noodles into your cart before grabbing onto the handles, ready to move on to your next destination “where off to next?”

it was easy to weigh whether your decisions were right or wrong, and bringing your best friend along to your grocery trip was definitely both a right and wrong decision on your part. you lost a few screws in your head, maybe, as well as a few chunks of your patience. though, you definitely gained something else in between the aisles.

what that was will be left unsaid, for now.

a fond smile blossomed on your face, shaking your head before moving ahead of mingyu who started to trail behind you shortly after. he waited for you to speak, earnest in his gaze, and you nudged your head towards the orange carrot, resting peacefully inside the shopping cart.

“let’s go pay for your son now, yeah?”

#DHFJSFH happy birthday anner hope u enjoyed HEHE #caratwritersclub #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu fanfic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

acquainted | ten

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, jealousy, some good car sex w/ breast play, straddling, fingering, a lil spit play

note: to the anon who requested the one shot, i promise i have it done - i can’t post it juuuust yet tho lol

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1 @thebeebi (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"How was your date, Jungkookie?" Hoseok asks as he forks into his salad. Jungkook sits in front of Hoseok and Yoongi, while Namjoon and Jin sit off to either of his sides. Kook does a simple chuckle with his nose scrunched as he's digging into his fries.

"Good." He smirked.

"Oooh, Jungkookie has a girlfriend!" Hoseok laughed, causing both Namjoon and Jin to shoot looks at each other while shifting in their seats.

"No, but I hope to ask her out."

"Wait, like really ask her to be your girlfriend?" Yoongi chimed in, his gummy smile coming forth with a small high-pitched laugh. "How cute."

"Yeah, I want to. Not right at this moment, but I've already been planning on how to have this talk with her about being exclusive."

"Aw, our Kookie is growing up!"

"Shut up." Jungkook laughs. "I just really like her. She's beautiful, and smart and fun to be around."

"Are you seeing her today?"

"No, but I'm gonna hang out with her tomorrow. She has stuff to get done."

"Do you see her a lot?"

"A good amount, but I try not to suffocate her."

"Jin, you haven't said anything. What's up with you?" Jin looks up from his plate, eyes quickly roaming between all of them.

"Sorry, I just knew all of this already. It's nothing unexpected." He gives off a fake chuckle.

"Grace issues?" He shrugged.

"Sure, but this isn't about me." They nod and shift their attention back to Jungkook. Whew.

"Have you gotten her in bed?"

"Woah, Yoongi? What the fuck." Namjoon laughed.

"I'm just curious and we're always honest with each other right?" Joon shoots Jin a quick look before shaking his head at Yoongi.

"No." Kook chuckled. "I mean I don't care for it much. If she isn't ready to take that step with me then I won't force her."

"What a gentleman! Jin you taught him well." They laughed. Jin is reciprocating the energy with a small smile, as that's the best he can do right now. He didn't want this topic to come up only because he did already know how Jungkook felt about you. Yes, he felt bad, but also, he didn't want to let up on you. He wasn't going to, and Namjoon can easily tell he wasn't over you even though he told Jungkook to go for it. He hated having this silent competition. He knew his feelings for you were growing and he couldn't help but feel like a child over it.

I saw her first. I got her first. Me. Not you.

And so their conversation over an early dinner gets put to rest, Jin thanking God that no one pressed him more about Grace or why he truly wasn't saying much. They were all too caught up in Jungkook's feelings. All, except Namjoon. Jin gets to his classroom a little early to get himself together for class, gathering all his thoughts and feelings about you, Jungkook, Grace, etc., and pushing it to a far, far corner in his mind. At least, until class is over.

[Namjoon] 5:04pm: You couldn't be any more obvious.

[Jin] 5:05pm: What are you talking about now?

[Namjoon] 5:05pm: You're still seeing her. Or, let me rephrase - You're still trying to pursue her even after you told your brother to go for it.

[Jin] 5:06pm: It's complicated.

[Namjoon] 5:06pm: Seokjin, please. What did I tell you? Don't start this mess.

[Jin] 5:07pm: It'll be fine, okay? I appreciate the concern but stop worrying about me.

He sighs as he paces around the front of his room. The real reason as to why you weren't hanging out with Jungkook tonight was because of him. He needed to see you. Feel you. Touch you. Be close to you. There was also something he needed to bring up, hoping you'd agree to it.

Namjoon was right. The concern is valid. However, if things pull through the way Seokjin expects it to, then he knows what he has to do from there. He'll know how to approach this better. Hopefully.

Seeing you in class makes him feel at ease. He loves the little smiles you send his way when you both make eye contact. He just loves to look at you. Smiling and laughing with your friends. Your serious face when it's time to focus. He has it bad for you.

"Alright, class. Get those in to me on time by next week and I'll think about the movie." Jin laughs as the class has mixed reactions while packing up their things.

"But Mr. Kim it's a really good movie, don't you think we deserve a little break in class?" Taehyung whines as he picks up his bag.

"I always think you guys deserve a break, the movie though? Not sure if it's my cup of tea."

"Awww come on, just once." The class whined, making Jin laugh that adorable laugh he has. It was cute to see how adored Jin was by your classmates. He truly was a great teacher and made it a safe environment for everyone. Completely inclusive.

"I'll sleep on it. See you guys next week." He smiles and flashes a wink at a couple of people leaving the classroom saying their goodbyes. He stands at the front, his hands dug into his pockets as he looks at you and Ryujin coming down the steps - always being the last to leave.

"I'm counting on you, Mr. Kim." Ryujin says, flipping her hair.

"Counting on me for what?"

"The movie." She turns to look at you. "And other things." You shove her out the door before looking over at Jin, who hasn't stopped chuckling.

"You heard her." He nods.

"Pick you up in a few?" He asks, almost at a whisper. You return the nod and smile before walking out. You silently walk next to Ryujin, thinking about what tonight would be about. Not gonna lie, you were excited to be alone with him again, even if that meant being in his car, sitting in silence. The thought alone made you happy. The thought made you push through the day just to get to this point.

"Are you seeing him?"

"Yeah." Is all you respond to Ryujin with.

"Be careful, okay?"

"I know." Ryujin knew you weren't going to let up on Jin easily. She too, just like Namjoon, could tell that you had developed deep feelings for him, yet she just didn't know how you would approach it. Whatever it was though, she was going to have your back and be there for you. She just wished you had told the boys because handling you alone is work! Extra support would have been nice!

Getting home, you toss your things aside and start working on a few assignments until Jin is texting you that he's outside of your building. You feel a little nervous, as if it's a first date when it's really not. You step out of the elevator and into the lobby, just to see him ahead in the driver's seat. He has one hand resting along the wheel while he's scrolling through his phone in the other.

"Hey." You say as you hop into the passenger's seat. He puts his phone down and looks at you, his head tilted towards you and rested against the headrest.

"Hey pretty girl." He softly smiles as he leans over to kiss you on the lips. "Want some ice cream?" You laugh.

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not?" He begins to drive off, taking you to a nearby ice cream joint.

"How was your day today?" You ask him as he's roaming the streets looking for parking.

"It was alright. Went to work for a bit and met up with the boys for an early dinner before class."

"How was that?" He keeps his eyes on the road.

"Mm, good. I love sitting around and hearing about my brother's feelings for you." You chuckle at his sarcasm.

"You're dramatic."

"Call it what you want." He says. "It's still not fair."

"You can do something about it, you choose not to though." You straight up tell him. He parks his car and looks over at you, a small smirk plastered on his face.

"So, do you want me to do something about it?"

"Jin, please. Don't turn this on me. You're the one whining." You get out of the car. It was true. He kept talking about Jungkook and how he couldn't stand it, but yet, his ass was over here doing absolutely nothing. You expected that much though, because what? Was he just going to up and leave his fiancé because of a little jealousy? You honestly didn't think it was that deep for Jin. Maybe a little bit of a competition, but nothing too serious. And that was honestly the most painful realization for you.

You probably weren't worth it.

"I'm not whining, love. Trust me." You subtly roll your eyes at the weak comeback, but you don't throw in a rebuttal. Were you worth it? It was hard to read Jin sometimes. There were days where you felt like this could be more, then there were days where you felt dumb as hell for even having the thought cross your mind.

Like right now, you feel like this could be more with the way he's letting you taste his ice cream, his hand below your chin to catch any melting ice cream from dripping onto your clothing. He takes his cone back to his lips at the same time he's raising the napkin to the corners of your lips. You're both sitting in his car, overlooking the bay and the San Francisco skyline view in his back seat. There's a walking trail in front of the small lot his car is currently parked in, but no one is around. It's just you, Seokjin and your ice cream cones.

"Mmmm, thank you." You say gobbling up the last bit of your cone.

"You're welcome." He chuckles. "How was your day?" You shrugged.

"Same old." You fold your leg onto the seat while the other draped over it just so you could turn and look at Jin. You lean your head against the seat, watching him eat the last bits of his cone. You admired him, and you couldn't help but marvel at how absolutely breathtaking he was. The goddamn nerve. He was literally sitting there in a hoodie and jeans and you thought he was the most endearing thing.

"Sounds fun." He clears his throat as he tosses the napkin into the cup holder in front.

"Why'd you bring me out here?"

"I just wanted to see you. Is that too much to ask for?" He looked at you. "I missed you."

"You see me in class."

"It's not the same and you know it." He cocks his head to the side again to look at you. "Come here." He grabs your hand to pull you closer to him and leans in for a kiss. You rest your hand on his neck as you continue to kiss him back, the sounds of slow kisses being exchanged filling the car. You climb onto his lap as the kiss deepens, your hands gripping Jin's face while his warm, soft hands explored inside your sweater. "You drove me crazy the other night." He whispers as you slightly pull away.

"Good." You respond, bringing your lips back onto his, slowly grinding your hips into his.

"Fuck." He hisses. He quickly aids in removing your leggings before unbuckling his jeans. You feel his hardened member underneath his boxer briefs against your clothed folds, causing you to slightly tilt your head back in pleasure. You feel his hands travel up to your bra, unhooking it and raising your sweater to suck on your nipples freely. You feel his tongue working in circular motions on your hardened bud, causing you to let out a breathy moan. His eyes wander up to your face, slightly shutting close when he sees how much you're enjoying this. He moves to the other breast, his free hand cupping the one he had just removed himself from, tongue exploring your nipple. His hand moves down to aggressively hook your panties to the side, giving him room to swipe his fingers up and down your wet folds.

"Oh shit." You slightly jerk at the sensation, his long fingers taking their sweet time spreading your wetness all around your pussy.

"You're so fucking wet." He keeps his eyes on you and watches your eyes roll to the back of your head when he inserts two digits, pumping them in and out. It's incredibly hot to him how fucking wet you are, the sounds of your pussy now echoing in the car.

"Jin, ohhhhshit." You mewl. "I'm gonna cum." He continues to pump his long fingers into you, the feeling of both pain and pleasure radiating throughout your body. He curves his digits upwards, tickling your core to send you hurdling over the edge. You buck in your position from how hard the orgasm hits you, Jin's wet fingers swiping your folds and gently caressing your sensitive clit. You squeal, the overstimulation becoming a little overbearing but it feels so fucking good. You unbury his hardened member from his boxer briefs, letting your spit dribble down onto his cock as you play with the pre-cum pooling at the head.

"Oh fuck, Y/N. Don't do that shit." He tilts his head back in pleasure. You silently chuckle as you jerk him, getting his dick a little wet before hopping on and filling yourself up with it.

"Ugh, why do you feel so fucking good?" You moan as you fix your position onto him, slowly riding him and easing your way into it. You slip his two fingers into your mouth to taste yourself, his fingers still dripping from your cum.

"I-I've been wanting to fuck you so badly." He lets out a breathy moan. "The things you do to me."

"Yeah?" You say, picking up the pace as his hands guide your hips and direct your pace.

"Just like that, baby." He groans. You love when he called you baby. It made you want to give him all of you.

Your hands are resting on his shoulders, gripping tightly as you grind your hips in a steady motion. You cock your head back in pleasure, Seokjin's hands gripping your breasts. You begin to roll your hips slowly, a louder moan erupting from both him and you.

"I'mgonnafuckingcum." Your words mesh together, unable to speak clearly at how good he feels deep inside of you.

"You're so tight. God, you feel so good, gonna cum with you." Sooner or later, a roll of the hip or two in, your coil is spiraling out of control, causing you to yell Jin's name as you scratch onto his clothed shoulders, his fingers digging deep into your skin as he fills you up at the same time you're milking his dick.

His head slowly raises from against your chest, his cheeks tinted and eyes slightly glazed. He smiles up at you, his lips locking with yours once more before you climb off to clean yourself.

"Y/N." He says, tucking himself back in and getting himself situated in the seat.

"Hm?" You hook your bra back together and fix your sweater.

"I'm going to LA this weekend for a quick business conference." You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure why he was telling you this. It's not like you asked him for a daily play by play.

"Okay, have fun?" You chuckle.

"Meet me there." He looks at you. "I have to be there by Friday morning, but I know you still have work and school."

"Meet you.. in LA?" He nods.

"I really want you to. I'll buy your plane ticket. But also, know that I'm not forcing you." He slightly sighs. "I just wanna be able to spend time with you and do other things together besides fucking each other's brains out."

"Um," is all you can respond with. Because hell to the fuck yes you wanted this. But you weren't sure why you were hesitating? Maybe it was a big jump and you were scared of taking it? The lies you'd have to tell people about where you would be going this weekend? It was all such a mess. Such a huge, huge mess. Part of you also felt like this would be such an easy way for Grace to find out.

"You don't have to tell me your answer now but— just know it'll make me really happy to have you there with me." He looks at you softly, a small smile creeping at the corner of his lips. Perhaps, you were worth it.

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straight-into-the-animus · 3 years

Text

A Place For Crows To Rest Their Feet (French Fryes)

Cause some people were interested in the idea of older French Fryes apparently and I thought I’d try my hand at it.

Song title and fic inspo from Marbles by The Amazing Devil

Read on Ao3

Arno felt old.

Well, he was old. It was made sure of that when at his last milestone birthday that everyone decided to overload the cake with candles representing his age. He had been able to laugh it off as a joke then. But now everytime he looked in the mirror and saw a new wrinkle near his eyes and mouth, he scowled.

When he saw his favorite music being relegated to the classic station, he flipped the channel.

And when it was cold and rainy and shitty outside and he had difficulty getting out of bed, he grumbled.

Jacob always just laughed at his perturbed expression and would say that they didn’t need to get out of bed anyway and would snuggle in for a few hours more.

Even though he knew Jacob never meant anything by the things he said, it still made him feel bad. His husband was only a few years younger than him. But the problem was he didn’t look that bad, and if he felt old he never told Arno. He was already aging like fine wine. Arno felt like aged milk.

Jacob had noticed once before, when Arno pointedly avoided looking in the mirror while they were hip to hip in the bathroom getting ready for the day.

“‘ou a’righ’?” He asked around a toothbrush.

“Hmm?” He asked, toweling off and looking over as Jacob spat out the paste and washed his mouth out before trying again.

“You alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… off. Didn’t even hear one ABBA song in the shower, either.” He smiled a bit, trying to get Arno to copy. Which he did, but it was gone rather quickly.

“I’m fine, mon amour. Just tired, still.” He wrapped the towel around his waist, pecked Jacob’s cheek and made to leave, but got pulled back. Jacob kissed him deeply, the taste of mint still on his tongue and making Arno hum; his husband’s mouth was still practically sinful after all this time. Jacob pulled away and then went back in for one more peck on Arno’s lips, leaving both of them smiling.

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Arno said, meaning it completely as he left to go get dressed.

He tried to make sure that was the end of it, or at least to keep it out of sight of Jacob. But then his pride went down like a kick in the balls when he woke up one morning and saw the roots of his hair turning gray. Like ash gray. Like old gray. He’d gone out to the shops immediately and found the darkest box color for his hair that he could and shoved it in the back of their linen closet the minute he came to his senses.

Really, it was a bad idea. If he did it, he’d have questions no one wanted to hear and explanations he really didn’t want to give. And Jacob would find out anyway. But it was an impulse purchase he didn’t think through and so he hid it until the time was right, if it ever would be.

And then Jacob noticed him as he entered the living room and let Arno in on their small couch to watch whatever inane reality show they both liked, and then he forgot about it, because how could you remember anything at that point?

It didn’t take too long for his husband to find it out, though.

“Care to explain this?” Jacob said, coming into the dining room where Arno was trying to clean, and Arno turned too quickly at the tone in his voice and stubbed his toes on the thick table leg.

“Merde-!”

“Jesus, Arno- Don’t try and die on me now.” Jacob went over quickly as Arno sat in one of the chairs, placing something on the table as he pulled up the other chair next to Arno’s. Arno waved him away and curled up his hurt foot to rub it.

“Don’t touch it.”

“Drama queen. Do you need me to get the first aid kit? Or do you think you’ll live?”

“You’re hilarious. Have I mentioned that before?”

“Only on days that end in “y”.” Jacob replied, and Arno stewed a bit. It didn’t take long for him to look over at whatever it was Jacob had brought into the room, and he grew a bit pale. Jacob, of course, because he had such a great eye when he wanted to, noticed immediately. “Figured it was yours.”

Arno didn’t grace him with a response at first. But the silence wouldn’t give.

“I found some gray hairs.” He mumbled.

“Yeah… Those tend to happen when you make it a few decades.”

“It doesn’t mean I have to like it! I don’t want to get old, Jacob. I’ll be… Gross, and senile, and you’ll hate me.”

“Please tell me you’re joking. You are joking?”

Arno flexed his hurt foot and quickly set it down, making to leave but stopped as Jacob grabbed his wrist and sat him back down in the chair.

“You know what I like so much about you getting old?” Jacob didn’t wait for Arno to answer. “It shows you made it.”

Arno almost made a rebuttal, but stopped when he tried to parse through the words and actually think about them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve known you for decades.” Jacob still held Arno’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “Since Uni. And you did the dumbest shit. I’m surprised we’ve gotten to this point without you needing a liver transplant.”

Arno looked down. He knew exactly what Jacob was talking about. He had been twenty two and having daily panic attacks about leaving university to actually be a person. Most relationships with girls and some guys were limited to one quick go in bed and then he was gone in the morning.

Jacob hadn’t been much better off emotionally, or financially, but at least he knew how to handle his shit better. They made an interesting match that way.

“You’re getting old because you’re alive. And I get to see that.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well it isn’t.”

Silence overtook for a few minutes as Arno looked down and Jacob studied him.

“Then I guess you must really hate me looking old.” Jacob said.

“I could never. And the difference is, you look good. You still have cute waitresses flirting with you despite the ring.”

“You mean from the diner last week?” Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Leanna had to be forty. And she was just being friendly.”

“She certainly wasn’t giving extra ketchup to me.”

“I would’ve given it to you.”

“So generous.”

“One of my best qualities.” Jacob murmured as Arno’s eyes remained dropped. A hand moved up to Arno’s cheek, and he realized Jacob’s pointer finger was tracing the lines near his mouth and the crows feet on his eyes. “Didn’t marry you for nothing, you know. I knew what I was getting into. And even if you turn out to be a grumpy old hunchback who can’t walk, I would still choose you if I had the choice.”

Arno felt his eyes start to glass over the longer Jacob spoke. It wasn’t some great speech. It was simple, and short, and matter of fact, and just… Jacob. Just as he had been for decades. And it sounded just as sincere now as it sounded when they were much younger men and first said they loved each other. And it was as sincere as when they had finally gotten married not even a decade ago. Arno had a shaky smile and squeezed Jacob’s hand, allowing the other one to keep exploring the tracks in his face.

“‘Sides,” Jacob purred as he leaned in closer, a gleam in his eyes, “being older just means you’re full of experience. And how could anyone say no to that?”

“Jacob-” He didn’t even know where he was going with his sentence, but it hardly mattered when he felt a warm pair of lips on his neck, making their way up his face. He turned his head at the right time and caught Jacob’s lips with his own. They both smiled, a soft thing.

“I love you.” Arno said.

“Love you too. Drama queen.” Jacob smirked as Arno rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Maybe stop putting up such high standards and I’ll consider taking a step back on my quest for perfection.”

“Sorry, I can’t. I gotta put in work to keep you in love with me. Sure as hell it isn’t my personality keeping you locked up.”

“Certainly not.” Arno snorted, leaning in and resting against Jacob. The man held him for a minute before speaking again.

“You believe me yet? That you’re good? And we’re good? Even if you get old?”

“I’ll work on it.” Arno admitted. Whether it was what Jacob wanted to hear or not, he was still welcomed in and let to rest for a while longer.

“Let’s move this to bed so we don’t stiffen up, eh?”

“You’re not going to carry me like you used to?” Arno asked teasingly as Jacob helped him stand up out of the chair. The man shrugged.

“Can’t. I’m too old.”

It wasn’t funny. It really wasn’t. But Arno laughed until he coughed, anyway.

They ended up throwing the box color out with much prejudice. And when Jacob started growing his own gray hairs, looking like a salt and pepper shaker, Arno just ran his fingers through each one while they watched inane reality television.

So. I ended up creating a whole other backstory for these two but found I couldn’t fit it in to the story, lol. If you’d be interested in that as well, let me know.

I hope you enjoy! If you do I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request! If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here but absolutely no pressure on that front. Have a wonderful day and thank you for reading!

#assassin's creed #french fryes #arno dorian #jacob frye #my writings

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solactier · 3 years

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This one’s for you @heytherestilinski

This is going to be quite the mixture of emotions, so I apologise in advance if my expression of said feelings is all over the place, but I simply must talk about the golden fanfiction that is Heat Waves and how it has swayed my soul with sounds of sweet bells.

To start, I should say, I’ve been in love with writing and reading for as long as I can remember. The ability to weave an entire world with mere threads of words is fascinating to me, always has been. I’ve taken in quite the number of books and fanfictions throughout my period of living, and considering so, I can confidently say:

Dakota’s writing is a force to be reckoned with.

But the force I speak of is the kind that is emitted from ember sunrises that one witnesses during moments between summer and autumn. They hold a certain glow that keeps a person sat there, for incessant hours, in pursuit of a special warmth that will leave them settled and content.

I have never been captured and pulled in by a descriptive style more than I was with Dakota’s, and I say this having read a multitude of her work. This author is admirable in a multitude of ways, and I’m genuinely excited for anything and everything they will produce in the upcoming future.

I could ramble for a good bout of time about many of Dakota’s works, but that would result in a document longer than Dream’s 19 page rebuttal, so let’s focus on one (for now).

Heat Waves

Two words that hold a grand amount of weight and cause hearts to shift.

I have a lot to say about this prosperous and glorious story, but at the same time I don’t because upon finishing a chapter, be it one of the first or the last, I am rendered speechless. My words of explanation and admiration morph into vibrations of zeal flowing through my veins as I absorb beautiful descriptions and powerful dialogue.

Heat Waves chapters aren’t ones I find myself totally rereading often, and here’s why:

When reaching the end of whatever chapter and scrolling through the final notes, I am left satisfied, completely. Dakota’s style is captivating in a way that allows me to read their sentences and phrases carefully and attentively, making sure the picture painted in my mind is as accurate as possible. I will encounter a certain, strong line and read it again, and again, and again before continuing on as to ensure I consume the sentiment being served, and mind you, it was served.

I came here at first expecting the usual or normal plate-size of feelings, but oh was I wrong, I was quenched, fully fed, if you will lol.

The reason for that is this narrative is not your typical fanfic troupe.

Heat Waves is a story about messy, unpredictable love, and that’s what makes it as enthralling as it is. It is poetic as it is real.

It’s thrilling lust turned to excruciating yet oh so warm love.

Dream misses and wants to hold onto George’s presence regardless of the pain it causes him, of the internal conflicts that have suddenly surfaced, of the changes he must face and make, of the haunting dreams.

Even if George’s actuality distresses and brings Dream affectionate confusion, he will still reach for him. He will hurt and hurt and hurt in order to grasp the heat he’s grown a little too addicted to because he prefers when George is around, rather than when he isn’t.

Dream’s mind spirals and his feelings scatter over interactions due to him knowing George very well, yet not knowing him at all. The two could flirt and exchange the most ridiculous of dialogue and nothing would change, and that’s where a certain dilemma is contrived: How much of this is real? What is considered serious among the numerous jokes him and George make? How far is he allowed to go? All of these questions tug at the curves of Dream’s brain and heart, and he is unsure about much, but despite that, he finds himself thinking all about George, during late nights, in the middle of June.

Dream undergoes a series of emotional disputes over whatever the fuck is happening between himself and George, and that, my friends, is the heartache that comes from truly having feelings for someone and wanting their every speckle. Of course, such strong desires can sometimes be unhealthy. Dream, at one point, is a bad friend to Sapnap (whom we all must agree to stan because damn sir your back must be hurting from carrying your two idiot friends’ passionate but disordered baggage. a king) by ignoring his calls and messages due to being caught up, tied, and trapped in the strings of yearning. This one guy is doing so much damage to Dream, but he’s fallen too far down the pit of affection to care, in fact, he luxuriates in it.

(I also honestly do not blame Dream for playing the song on loop, because same, really does make you feel things)

Dream loves George. He loves George so much that the simplest of phrases and statements set his nerves ablaze and sparks his soul with hope.

It’s so painful but so fucking invigorating.

Which is why, at one point or another, he must learn to let go, not completely, but enough to stop the analysing and obsessing and sweating and dreaming, and that’s what’s so enticing about this tale, that among the reaching, there must be patience in order to reach something stable. Dream has been going insane for far too long, pouring his heart out to the one he so desires, but with such want comes uncertainty and surprises. Who the hell would’ve thought George had feelings for Dream for a good while before reeling himself in, only for his emotions to be stimulated with affection all too unexpectedly.

and who would’ve foreseen the slap of pure angst that were chapters 9 and 10, George’s hopeful rejection.

We read the two flirt, smile and laugh until their chests ached, connect, talk and call for hours, send fucking snapchats to eachother, telling sentimental stories, and much more.

All for Dream to crumble, piece by piece, until he is on the floor and crying over missing a chance he’s been so desperately trying to take. After what felt like a blooming relationship, Dream is seen breaking.

Because George wasn’t ready.

Because George was hit by a sudden wave of emotion that is so confusing and overwhelming and what the fuck Dream.

Yet, not all has been lost. The blazing fire of yearning may have been rained on, but it has not gone out.

Because it’s not a no, it’s a not yet.

And I cannot tell you the power such a statement holds. It was such a simple phrase, yet it shook my core as it delivers something raw, something hopeful, something to look forward to and have you inhaling a breath of longing because embers are still sparking and maybe, maybe, that chance isn’t completely out of Dream’s reach.

He just has to work on listening, bettering himself, healing and reaching a point of self-contentment. A point where he knows: he’s right for George, he’s enough for George. And the same goes for the latter.

Everything is so messy and destructive and confusing, yet they still reach.

And that, that, is such a raw form of love that it left my chest tight. They both want to be the best for eachother. They want to work and try for eachother despite the pain it may bring. They wait, and with their patience comes progression, which slowly but surely, will turn into comfort.

And to have the ability to articulate and describe such a journey is insane in every sense of the world. This story takes your collection of emotions and rattles it, making you feel so much at once that when ending a reading session, you release a satisfactory breath.

It didn’t end with attained love, or accepting confessions, or a romantic moment during the visit, or promises of kisses, or whatever cliche closing you could think of.

It ended with two friends saying “see you soon”

And that was perfect.

Perfect enough leave me, the reader, content and in awe. Because this is a slow and difficult love, one that will simply need time, as time is what will heal.

I couldn’t have asked for a better ending. Dakota is truly an inspiration.

Thank you, for creating and sharing such a masterpiece of a story, and having your readers go through the entire spectrum of emotions.

I cannot wait for Helium.

#heat waves #dreamnotfound #hey dakota your writing is fucking flawless #not me crying over here #i had the song on loop while writing this lol #a story i will definitely return to #everybody say thank you dakota

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obey-me-fics-n-shit · 4 years

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Satan X MC: “Cat Cafe?”

@gostbirds So the brothers don’t really interfere with them going, (because I couln’t think of any good reason lol) and I didn’t actually write them going to the cafe, AND its a bit longer than I meant it to be, but I had lots of fun writing it and I hope you like it!

Also this is my first time writing something that’s not headcannons, so if you have any criticisms, keep them constructive please and thank you!

Satan x mc “cat cafe?”

You sat down for a peaceful Saturday breakfast in the house of Lamentation, ready to scarf down as many of Satan’s delicious pancakes as you could before Beel came down and ate them all. Taking charge of who all was there you took stock of Asmo, who seemed busy drizzling on syrup just so in a way that made it look picture perfect. Turns out that was the plan, because a second later Asmo pulled out his DDD and was taking pictures for Devilgram. Moving further down the table you saw Mammon, who didn’t seem particularly interested in what was going on in terms of food, but he was eyeing up the new silverware in a way that told you that you probably wouldn’t see it again soon. Finally there was Satan, who was sat at the table with a book in hand. He already finished eating if you were to judge by his empty but dirty plate. It was cute, you thought, that everytime he made a meal he stayed in the dining room until everyone had eaten some. Satan never really said why he did this, but you figured that he like to gauge everyones reactions to the meal, to see whether or not he should make it again.

You decided to sit across from Satan, who acknowledged you (and your large stack of pancakes) as you sat down with a smile. You offered a smile back and dug in. You’d always liked Satan the best, and the two of you had gotten pretty close but sometimes he still made you nervous. You had honestly gotten pretty good at reading all of his little micro-expressions too, Satan is a quiet guy, you’d noticed that early on. So when the two of you started spending more time together, being able to know what he was saying without actually saying it was a must. But, for all of your hard work on getting to know him better you still couldn’t tell if he liked you back. You looked up at Satan and made sure to make a show out of pointing to the pancakes then giving a big thumbs up. You would’ve said something but it was kind of hard because A) mouthful of yummy pancakes and B) you didn’t want to rope him into a conversation when he was trying to read. Satan acknowledged you thumb up with his own thumb up, small smile and no, it couldn’t be was that a blush? Before you could look closer and verify his face was hidden by the book again.

It was then that Levi walked in and sat down next to you. You greeted him with a cheery “good morning” and Levi did the same. Looking back at the table you saw that Mammon (and his silverware) had done a little vanishing act and were gone, but Asmo was finally getting started on his pancakes. Levi started talking and you were really trying to pay attention, but you had already missed the first part of his conversation. You tuned in just in time to find out he was talking about some new gimmicky cafe he was interested in had just opened.

“-and they’ll join you at the table! Anyways MC all the waitress have little paw print aprons, which I’ve heard are pretty cute and they have a gift shop with a whole bunch of themed collectibles, I’ve got to get there soon before they run out of Ruri-Chan cat figurines!”

Now you really wish you had listened to the first part of Levi’s spiel because to say you were lost was an understatement. You couldn’t help but notice though that whatever Levi talked about must have been interesting. Satan was looking at his book but his eyes weren’t moving across the page, he was listening. If it had gotten Satan’s attention it was probably something you should’ve been listening to. Sooner or later you had to respond though you you decided to go with, “Yeah, that sounds really cool Levi!” Before taking another bite of pancake so you wouldn’t have to say anything more.

It was quiet for a little longer while you and Levi took some bites, “Anyway, MC, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me later today.” Levi got around to the point of his speech.

“Ooh! Like a date?,” Asmo piped in, “because if it’s a date that’s no fair! Do you have any idea how hard it is to convince MC on a date?” At this you noticed Satan stiffen a little a bit, eyes still fixed on his book but unmoving on the page.

“No that’s not it at all, Asmodeus!” Levi rebuttted a little red in the face. You decided if you didn’t chime in now things would only get heated from here.

“Oh that’s nice, Levi, but I think I have some more work I need to do on one of my assignments, maybe next time though!” You weren’t in the business of committing to plans if you didn’t know what they were (although you knew it was your fault for not paying attention.) and if the idea of you going to whatever this place was made Satan uneasy it probably wasn’t worth it.

“Oh that’s okay! It’ll be easier to get a table if there’s one person anyway.” Levi responded. With that you finished up your plate, thanked Satan for breakfast and made your way back to your room. You really did have some work to do, so at least that wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t as much work as you made it sound to Levi.

Around noon-thirty you had finished the work you needed to do and decided you’d head down to the kitchen to throw together some lunch. To no ones surprise Beel was stationed in front of the fridge, eating whatever was unfortunate enough to find its way into his hands, and thereby his mouth.

“Heya Beel!” You greeted reaching arounf him for some lunch meat, on the way down to the kitchen you’d decided a quick sandwich seemed like a good lunchtime option.

“Hi, mc,” Beel said through a muffled mouthful of food, “heard you turned down Levi’s offer to buy you lunch, what are ya, crazy?” Beel turned to you a goofy little grin on his face. You don’t remember that, when would you ever turn down a nice time out with your friends? Ohhhhhhh this morning is the time you’d turn that down. You remembered, as you began to assemble your sandwich.

“Oh haha,” you recovered with a quick chuckle, “did he offer to take you instead? I would’ve gone if I didn’t have to catch up on some homework” you asked, trying to retroactively figure out where exactly Levi had offered to take you to.

Beel gave you a friendly laugh over his shoulder, “he did offer, and I’m not one to turn down a free meal, but he said it was a cat cafe,” he paused to take another bite and swallow, you used the silence to throw together an extra sandwich, glad you at last knew the answer to this ‘Levi-lunchtime-mystery’. Beel continued, “-but after Satan’s cat fiasco a few years back I don’t really like dealing with cats anymore.”

Cat fiasco? Were you supposed to know what that was, the way Beel mentioned it so casually, you supposed so. You had no clue but you figured you’d save your questions for another time. “Oh, understandable,” you commented, so that you didn’t sound like a complete idiot. “Speaking of Satan, has he had lunch yet?” You asked, you figured you could take him some lunch if he hadn’t had any, it wasn’t that uncommon for him to get so wrapped up in whatever he was reading that time escaped him.

‘No, not yet. Or at least I haven’t seen him.” Beel said, more to the fridge than to you. Good, you thought, you could take Satan some lunch and spend some time with him.

“Okay, I’d better go make sure he gets something to eat then, see ya later Beel!” You said already halfway out of the kitchen with your two sandwiches.

Finding Satan wasn’t that hard, if he wasn’t in his room he was in the library. And that’s where you found him, he was reading the same book from this morning, and he was much farther along, judging by the way the pages near the back cover loooked a lot thinner than they had this morning. “Hey,” you spoke softly, as not to startle him, “I brought you some lunch.” You said extending the plate towards him.

Satan looked up from his book and took a sandwich off the plate, “thanks mc,” he murmured appreatively. You looked at the cover of his book, recognizing it as one of your old favorites, “any good?” You asked gesturing to the book.

“Yeah, I’m really liking it, you mentioned it a few weeks back and I finally got my hands on a copy.” He placed a book mark tenderly amongst the pages and gently shut the book. You hadn’t remembered mentioning that it was your favorite, wait now that you think about you may have made an off-handed remark, but the fact that he remembered made you heart swell a little. Not only did he remember, but he actively searched out the book and made a point of reading it. This man was going to be the death of you and he didn’t even know it

“Have you gotten to the part where-“ you were cut off by Satan, who shushed you with a ‘no spoilers!” And took a bite out of his sandwich, you did the same. Satan made a small sour look, and looked up at you from his spot on the couch.

“Mc, why is there only meat in this sandwich?” He asked you, quizzical. Oh shit, you realized you had been so wrapped up in talking to Beel that you completely forgot that sandwiches have other ingredients. How on earth did you forget something so simple?

“I- uhhh” you said, unsure of how to explain, you set the plate down beside him and let him set down his sandwich. “It’s kinda a silly reason,” you looked at Satan, who looked at you with a small smile, obviously amused.

“Explain it to me.” He demanded, so you did.

“Well you remember this morning when Levi was talking to me at breakfast?” You asked, Satan gave you a small nod in return. “Well I kinda zoned out and didn’t know where he was offering to take me so I gave him a half-baked excuse not to go”

“I recall,” Satan chimed in. You were a little offended that he seemed to agree your excuse was “half-baked” but you continued your story anyways.

“Well when I finished my work -I actually did have some to do-“ you justified, “I went down to get lunch and ended up talking with Beel, and he filled me in on what I missed.” You paused “I must have gotten so wrapped up in the conversation that I forgot to add anything else” you finished.

You and Satan sat in silence for a while then simultaneously broke out into laughter, what else could you do, ya know? After the giggles died down Satan looked at you, “can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” you shot back, “but I’ll allow you another.”

“Okay then, smartass,” Satan said, still grinning. “Are you actually interested in going to that cat cafe? Because I was planning to ask you myself but Levi beat me to the punch and I wasn’t sure if you told him no because you just didn’t want to go.” He finished, watching your expressions carefully the whole time.

“Oh!” You were alarmed, Satan wanted to go out with you? At the very least he wanted to take you somewhere he seemed excited about going, and that’s something right? “Yeah of course I’d like to go with you! I mean, my lunch plans kinda fell through anyways.” You gave a good natured chuckle before adding “one condition though” this was kinda a risky move on your part, go big or go home right? You never know if you don’t try kinda thing?

“What is it?” Satan asked hesitantly.

“It’s a date?” You meant it to sound more confident than it did, but you also wanted him to know you wouldn’t force his hand if he wasn’t into you like that.

Satan broke out into a new, wider smile, one you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing before. “Then it’s a date, mc” he said, glee shining through his voice. “We can discuss the book now the way there, but only up to where I am, okay?” He added, already getting up to go.

You didn’t know how you’d explain turning Levi down if you happened to see him there, but you figured that was a problem for later.

#obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x reader #request #obey me #obey me!#obey me hc #obey me headcanons #@gostbrds #om satan #satan x reader #satan x mc

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thotsforvillainrights · 3 years

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Thanksgiving with the Shie Hassaikai headcanons? Can we also pretend Pops is awake for this too? 🥺

(No worries! We always pretend Pops is awake because I live in a constant state of denial where I pretend Kai isn’t an asshole that put him in a coma. Anyway lol, let’s just pretend you work for the Hassaikai for this one! Ps: I was hoping someone would request this)

~Thanksgiving with the Hassaikai~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Although you’ve only been employed to the Hassaikai for 10 months so far, everyone already knew your personality well enough to see this coming. That’s why when you called an emergency meeting, nobody was surprised at your request for celebrating Thanksgiving together. However, that didn’t make it easy for getting everyone to agree. Rappa, Tabe, Deidoro, Pops, and Toya were excited for it! Hojo, Tengai, Nemoto, and Chrono were indifferent and didn’t mind trying it. The only complaints were from Kai (as usual when you suggested something fun) and Mimic (who didn’t see the point in it). Thankfully Pops was delighted by you from the very moment you showed up at the base. So of course he was on your side. Since he was still the big boss, there was nothing anyone could do to deny you.

-”Okay everyone is required to bring something so we can have a feast. Work in teams to get this stuff done, and I’ll do the assigning! So Pops, you don’t have to worry about a single thing okay? Don’t worry about getting anything together but if you absolutely want to then I don’t mind.” You smiled at him and he cheerfully nodded. “Okay here’s the line up: Rappa and Katsukame are in charge of the Turkey. I’m putting a lot of faith in you guys. The turkey is the star of the show and I need it done perfectly! Or at least...as good as you can manage. Tengai and Mimic can handle the devilled eggs. Deidoro and Hojo are in charge of getting the drinks. Please do not show up with only alcohol. In fact, I’m mainly counting on you Hojo to make sure Sakaki doesn’t do this. Now Tabe and Setsuno are in charge of getting the plates, cups, cutlery, and the deserts. Toya I’d focus on doing the deserts so Tabe won’t get tempted to eat them. Finally Overhaul and Chrono can get the side dishes. This includes Macaroni, Greens, Cranberry Sauce, any and all side meats like chicken or whatever. Ceaser salad, Potato salad, etc. You guys get the drift. The reason why I put so much on you is because I’m confident you guys can handle the load. Finally I’ll be working with Shin to get the Ham. That’s all! Any questions?” Immediately you got hands in the air.

Pops: “May I help make some of the main dishes?” He asked with slight puppydog eyes. Rather childlike for his old age, but you couldn’t deny him even if you wanted to. “Pops we just want you to relax as the head of the table, but if you really want to then you may attempt it.”

Deidoro: “How much and what kind of alcohol am I in charge of?” His eyes were super focused causing you to laugh a bit. “Okay well let’s not go overboard first of all. It’s not like a Halloween party or anything wild like that. We’re getting together over dinner and expressing thanks for the things we received so graciously.” You explained. He paused and deadpanned. “So...just wine then?” ...”Yeah, just wine. And not the strong kind either. Maybe you can get a little Sake for yourself.”

Rappa: “Yes uh, how in the fuck am I supposed to cook this shit?” Katsukame punched his shoulder. “You big idiot, we bake it!” Rappa punched him back as a reply. “Fucking DUH, but like what kind of seasonings???” Katsukame punched him again. “Probably something not too heavy so we focus more of the fucking flavor of the dressing in side of it.” Rappa once again punched back as a rebuttal. “Fuck off, cilantro is all you had to say you bastard.” You immediately had to speak up between them before their playful banter would turn into an entire indoor death match. “Okay guys, don’t focus too hard on it. This is kinda western so just look up some recipes and videos please? And most importantly, always have a back-up turkey on hand just in case you guys mess up the first one.”

Kai: “Yeah I have a question. Where the hell do you get off on telling me what to do? I’m you’re boss and you’re just barely high enough up to even be considered a precept.” Pops immediately got up and slapped the back of Kai’s head. “Bite your tongue Chisaki and apologize!” Kai grumbled and bowed for a second while uttering a short apology. Chrono chuckled off to the side as he tried to hold back his laughter.

Mimic: “Who’s wallet is this coming out of???” You smiled at him and he gulped. “Well not from our pay. We’ll call it a holiday event and pull from the reserves. The yakuza has been thriving lately under Pops of course. Unless anyone wants to donate?” You looked at Kai with fluttering lashes and he glared at you. “Fuck fine. I’ll cover the expenses on my end.” You smiled and nodded.

-If only from that point on things could’ve went well but there were just too many obstacles of course. Not on you and Nemoto’s end of course! You two were efficient and quick. You got in and out of the grocery store in under 2 hours with the perfect ham. You agreed to go to his apartment to cook it together since the house kitchen at the base would go to Pops, Chrono, and Kai more than likely. And the lower part of the base kitchen would belong to Rappa and Rikiya. The TRUE issues arose on the ends of everyone else. Pops was an angel and the food he attempted to make was reasonable, but the old man overdid it and ended up making 4 of the same cakes. What were you going to do with exactly 4 red velvet cakes??? Anyway, as to be expected, Rappa and Rikiya fucked up BOTH of the turkeys. You had to make them search all around town to find a pre-done turkey on the morning of Thanksgiving itself. They eventually found one from a generous donor in exchange for that person having their debt to the yakuza swept under the rug. Chisaki and Chrono did a pretty good job but they took so long that half of the stuff was still being set up when it was time to start dinner. Tabe actually did an okay job at setting the table up. The real surprise was that SETSUNO was the one that was tempted and ended up munching corners off of the deserts. Of course Sakaki showed up with a wide variety of alcohol that Hojo didn’t even notice he had snuck into the other shopping cart. Meanwhile Tengai and mimic had decorated the devilled eggs rather poorly. Tengai believed the minimal was better and Mimic was trying to cut corners with price/quality. Nevertheless everything was set up and you all began to review the things you were thankful for.

“Well I just wanna start off by saying that I’m thankful for this job and the bonds I’ve made with you all not just as coworkers but as people. I truly consider the Hassaikai to be like family.”

Pops: “I want to thank everyone as well for working so hard for our little family here. I also want to thank you Y/N for bringing some youthful joy into my life once again.”

Kai: “I suppose I’m thankful for my good health and sanity dealing with all of you on a daily basis.”

Chrono: “Yo, I’m thankful for my last paycheck but also for the years I’ve served here. It kinda has been almost like a fam to me yknow. Not trying to get sappy or anything but thanks you guys.

Mimic: “This is weird but I guess I’ll try it. I’m thankful for uh...the opportunities set forward in front of me.”

Nemoto: ”I’m very much thankful for our leader, and also for master Overhaul. I appreciate you for allowing me to strive in my work the way that I do. I can only hope to continue pleasing you both as my time goes on at this organization. That is all.”

-Deidoro: “Thanks to this damn Saki I’ve already had 2 and a half cups of while everyone wasn’t listening. Also thankful for my liver as well.”

-Hojo: “Well I guess I can say I’m thankful for everyone here and for the boss when he took me in off the street and healed me after I almost died.”

Setsuno: “Yeah thanks for giving me purpose again boss. I’m thankful for that too.”

Tabe: “Food...friends...found family...”

Katsukame: “Fucking thanks for letting us have enough chance after we fucked up two of those damn turkeys. I thought you were gonna kill us Y/N.”

Tengai: “I’m rather thankful for my sanity as well, after dealing with this job so much...”

Rappa: “This shit is cheesy but damn it I’m thankful for everything here too! I aint much at speeches so I’m gonna stuff my face now.”

-So there you go. It may not have been the most conventional thanksgiving but it was something along the lines of a ‘perfect disaster’ all in it’s own. You can only sit back and look at everyone eating and talking before you realize that a Christmas party might not be so bad to start planning for either.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

ἀλήθεια (Chapter 5, Vοσταλγία AU)

ἀλήθεια Masterlist

Pairing: Freydis/Reader, Ivar/Reader (past)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: The usual. My endless swooning over Freydis.

A/N: So yeah, I have two chapters of Alatheia done, because this one and Chapter 6 were one and the same until I decided to split them. Should I post the other one tomorrow, or wait a week? Idk, I’ll see lol. Hope you like this!

“Sparta.” You say with a whisper, and Freydis walks forward, standing next to you on the ship, overlooking the same city that rises in the horizon.

“Your father’s homeland, isn’t it?”

“Where my cousin is king,” You confirm, before turning your head to the side, looking back out of the corner of your eye, “Where Galla’s love awaits.”

“Oh, save it.” Galla grumbles from her place a few feet back.

“You did promise him your hand in marriage when the Fates brought you back together.”

“You promised a Viking to love him and yet here we are,” Galla retorts, more bite than Freydis had expected. Your expression tightens, a strange blend between the anger Freydis is familiar with -enthralled with, in awe of-, and the cold cruelty that has made kings falter. Galla doesn’t, instead pressing, more softly, “Women like us don’t keep promises well.”

“I keep my promises.”

And Freydis knows that tone, she knows it well.

Never before had she seen your might directed to her like this, and though she stands tall and strong -not the Gods themselves will make her waver-, Freydis finds something like awe growing inside her at the sight. Your voice is the snarl protecting what is hers as you promise, “You told me the night we met that you’d once escaped death by placing the right words in the right ears. Be careful not to find death by attempting something similar.”

“Just not when it comes to your heart?” Galla tries, baited breath as you consider her, as you debate between stubbornly holding on to anger or accepting the attempt at lightheartedness.

Eventually, your lips curve into a smile. It is dim, Freydis cannot help but notice that.

“Exactly. It seems we are after all very alike, you and I, hm?”

____

Sparta proves to be yet another wonder, of stone buildings and beautiful statues, of lively streets and warm skies. It proves to be familiar too, in the shouts of warriors training on the edges of the city, in the chatter and laughter of a city bustling with life.

After being introduced to Lysander, a tall man of broad shoulders and a grave face that is only accentuated by his missing eye, but of warm smiles and eyes like yours; Freydis allows herself to be lost in this city.

The people may look at her often, may whisper, may linger; but she doesn’t mind any longer. And, in moment of weakness, or maybe of bravery, she approaches some of them, with questions about the food they share with her and the animals they try to sell her.

When she retires for bed that night, the sight of you lingering close by to her door is a surprising one, but not unwelcome.

Her heart does a strange thing in her chest when she meets your gaze, when she takes you in, dressed in a soft green dress so unlike anything she has seen before, the smell of lavender once again sweetening the very air around her.

Freydis says nothing, but invites you in with a gesture of her head. You both sit on the low settee by the hearth, and with your eyes on the flames you take a deep breath that she isn’t sure if it is cleansing or bracing you.

“That night, the...the last night, I…” You stop yourself, lift your gaze to her even if your face is still turned to your hands. Voice low, you instead say, “You never asked me how…how I survived.”

“All that matters is you did,” She tells you without hesitation, but based on the sigh you let out as your head drops, that is exactly what you were expecting. Though she feels slighted at the way you seem to imply wanting to survive above anything else is somehow wrong, she will admit she admires the resilience of still believing the purpose of life is anything other than survival. “It is true.”

Silence reigns between you, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you gaze away into the nothingness. She doesn’t like that gesture, it is too alike you biting your tongue, and she dreads the day you do.

So, Freydis calls your name. Softly, quietly.

You take a moment, gathering your thoughts before you utter them.

“After Narses…after what I did to him, I promised myself that I would never-…” Your words end up choked, and you frown through a deep breath, trying to find your center again, “That I would never lie again, not about something like that; not about love.

Your smile is bitter, and the way your hands threaten to curl into fists tell her what you sacrificed that night, more than words ever could.

More than him, more than the life he gave you, more than the world you had known; you had to give up a part of you, if not the whole of you. Freydis understands that, understands what it is like to shed pieces of you like a snake its skin to try and survive, and she understands what it is like to look at a reflection and see a monster under a pretty face looking back.

“All I have known is to fight against anyone that tries taking something from me. My…my freedom, anything. It feels like I’ve been fighting ever since I first returned to Eleusis from the Silk Roads. Fighting Narses, fighting Stithulf, fighting…fighting Ivar,” You lick your lips, looking at the nothingness ahead when you continue, “That night, I wanted to fight him. I fought him, I yelled and cursed and…and I did it knowing that each word, each…each moment just got me closer to…”

“Death?”

You shrug, “No one survives leaving Ivar the Boneless.”

You haven’t said his name in such a long time. But even now, that isn’t his name you are saying, not really.

“You did.”

“I…I did. Because I thought of you.”

Her heart does a strange thing in her chest, a blend of dread -how could you be so stupid to follow her advice when the only reason Ivar hadn’t killed her was the fear of your wrath- and something else -something that feels like warmth, like pride, like thrill- filling her hollow chest.

“What?”

“That night, I…at the tip of my tongue was the promise that I was leaving him, were the words about how one way or another I wouldn’t be at his side anymore. I can be cruel sometimes, I know. And…I was cruel then, and for all the pain he had caused me I wanted to inflict the same, I wanted…I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to tell him,” You look at her, seeking something that Freydis isn’t sure you can find in her gaze. A breath, and you whisper, “He would have killed me,” You repeat, and though she knows it is true, she has a feeling you are reassuring yourself of it to hold back whatever guilt you carry. “And I remembered what you told me, about h-how surviving is what is most important, about how…whatever men like Ivar the Boneless need you to be, you become.

Your lip trembles, and the look in your eyes tells her that you are somewhere she cannot reach, trapped in a world that you left behind but that has never left you.

You are holding your hands together on your lap, squeezing your own hands so tight she almost expects to hear the bones breaking. Still, you continue. You have to.

“So I t-told him I could forget a-and forgive. It was a lie. I told him I loved him even then. That wasn’t a lie, but…it felt like one. I told him that I didn’t want to…to fight anymore, but I was…uh, s-staying. With him.

Your breath hitches, and your eyes are squeezed shut, as if you can keep memories at bay by refusing to see.

“He fell asleep, but I…I sometimes wonder if he knew I was lying, and just pretended. He had to have known,” Once again it sounds like you are trying to convince yourself, and this time she cannot give any certainty that what you say is true. He might have been, but she doubts he would have let you leave if he had known. Very alike, Ivar and her, and she knows she wouldn’t. You shrug your shoulders, almost defeated, “I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. While he slept, I fetched one of the thralls. Her name was Thyra, and sh-she looked a lot like me. I killed her with the knife he gifted me, and went to find you and Valdís to say goodbye.

If she is honest, she has tried not thinking about that night much. She has tried to forget the look in your face, the look she dreads ever seen again.

Because that day you were dead, or maybe death. She isn’t sure there is much of a difference, not when it comes to you.

“I lied to him, Freydis,” You confess, a dying breath on your lips. There’s tears shining in your eyes, but stubbornness keeps them at back, and you only raise your chin, gritting your teeth. You take a deep breath, gaze intently focused on the nothingness ahead, and muse aloud, “You know, as time passed I…I started telling myself that I wasn’t that much of a monster for what I did to Narses. I don’t think I can do that anymore.”

The words leave her lips in an instant, “You are not a monster.”

“I have betrayed and lied to everyone that has loved me,” You sentence, a rebuttal even if it sounds like a confession. “Because…I told myself Narses didn’t love me, but he did. He did, and I led him to his death. A-And maybe it was a different kind of love, the wrong kind maybe, but…Ivar loved me. He loved me, and I looked him in the eye and promised to love him too, even when I had already planned to leave him.”

“And you are responsible for what they feel for you?” Freydis pushes, meeting your wide gaze with her determined one. “If they chose to love you, that is their-…”

“Mistake?”

“Responsibility. You didn’t have to love them back, you didn’t have to be anything other than yourself, not because they loved you. That…that is not how it works.”

You search her gaze, so unbearably lost that she cannot help but reach for your hand, if only to keep you tethered, if only to keep you with her, if only to tell the ghosts that if they want you they will have to take her with you.

“How does it work, then?” You ask, a sad, helpless little smile curving your lips.

Freydis offers truth, truth that has been for too long her most precious secret.

“I don’t know.”

“Then how do you know I am not a monster for what I did? To Ivar, to Narses?” You insist, not waiting for an answer as your eyes fall shut, your breath leaving you in a shaky exhale. After a heartbeat, “I loved him,” You tell her, making cold run through her veins. But it isn’t the same kind of coldness that shines in your eyes. Your expression trembles, and Freydis pretends not to see the tears in your eyes, or hear the wobble in your voice, “I loved him, Freydis. And yet I…betrayed him.”

She knows where your thoughts are going. Hers went to the same place, many times before.

“I betrayed you,” She tells you, a confession in itself, even before she finds her resolve and with the same certainty, the same fearlessness, that she looked at death in the eye with; she offers her heart, “I love you, and I betrayed you.”

She has said it many times, but there is something different this time, something to do with comparing her love for you with your love for Ivar, something to do with the way she holds your hand in hers, something to do with the way her eyes search yours.

The smallest of hitches in your breath, but she notices. Of course she does, it seems her very heart stops its beat so she doesn’t miss an instant of your response.

“Freydis…”

“If you are a monster, then so am I.”

It isn’t an argument, it isn’t a whisper that maybe what you did wasn’t cruel, it isn’t a reassurance that you are not monstrous in your own way.

No. It is a promise.

If you are a monster, then she is one as well.

Wherever your Gods or mine take you, I shall be at your side.

But if you listen to her words, you do not give it away, your gaze still wide and lips still parted as you look at her, a blend of awe and something else, something more fragile, something more precious.

“I love you.” You breathe, tremulous smile curving your lips. Three words, and you steal her of breath, you steal her of her heart.

Except you cannot steal what was so freely given. And what a dangerous thing that is, is it not?

But it isn’t fear what courses through her veins, no.

A breath, or two, or a thousand, she has no way of knowing. All she knows is that it feels like she is smiling, like the joy and helpless hope that bubbles inside her chest is curving at her lips, and she knows your eyes -mesmerizing, endless eyes- are trained on the sight, and she knows you lean closer.

And she knows that to kiss you feels like a spring storm.

From the thrill that runs through her like lightning at the barest of touches of your lips on hers, a hesitant brush of your mouth against hers before one of you, she couldn’t for the life of her care who, finds the courage to press closer, more firmly; to the rush of her heart in her ears that reminds her of the unrelenting downpour of a storm, and the delicate touch of your hand on the side of her face that makes her think of witnessing the downpour from the safety of shelter.

As much as you are willing to give you are willing to demand, and Freydis is no different. Your lips part as her mouth moves over yours, open and soft, and there’s a wretched little sound leaving her lips as your tongue slips gently into her own mouth.

In between sharp breaths that still feel like too little, unwilling to part you press a few soft pecks against her smiling lips, before trailing to the corner of her mouth, where the too-many-times unsaid I love you lay waiting for you to claim it.

Brow pressed against hers, noses touching and eyes vibrant as they gaze into hers, Freydis still can only think of the breathtaking feeling of a spring storm to describe what it feels like, this moment.

You bite down on your trembling lip, before a sigh of her name leaves your lips.

She chose it, that name, and every day since she has demanded to be called by that name, too long having been at the mercy of whatever anyone else wanted to call her. It has never sounded so right before.

Still, because she knows you, she knows you like she knows herself, in between broken pieces and contradicting thoughts; Freydis nods her head.

“I know,” She tells you, licking her lip, a remnant of that spring storm still on them. “You also love him.”

“I want my heart to be my own, before I give it away,” You tell her, quiet. Your hand is still at the side of her face, and she soaks up that warmth before it slowly, almost reluctantly, falls down and settles on your own lap. “I love you, Freydis, but I…”

She shakes her head with a smile, though she closes her eyes.

It doesn’t sting of rejection, this isn’t the pain of something lost, but it is still pain, she won’t lie. It is a particular kind of pain, the kind of pain of being on a ship and having it approach a place dearly missed, the kind of pain of knowing on the land the ship so surely approaches there lies everything she ever wanted.

“I am with you,” She interrupts. When she opens her eyes, she finds the vibrant gaze of yours searching her expression, looking for a certainty she hopes you find. “Wherever the Gods take you, remember? I will be here when you have a heart to give, if you choose to give it.”

____ ____ ____

Me writing the Reader with characteristics (story-wise) of a goddess both in Nostalgia and Alatheia is a topic for another time, but as Alatheia comes to an end (and Freydis’ PoVs of Nostalgia are at an end too) I have to rant about this: when the Reader prays to Persephone in Chapter 13, and at the lack of an answer (that she can understand) breaks and prays to Freyja, she begs the goddess not to leave her alone there; and in the next moment Freydis walks up to her, finds her and tells her she is not alone, and then: “Her hand finds yours, and the simple gesture of comfort is enough to make you feel not so unbearably alone. Based on the sad smile she offers you, you think you are not the only one to feel alone in a realm of cold and shadow.” Now, I’m not saying Freydis is Freyja of course, but...maybe I am, and this is just a contrived way of writing the Freyja/Persephone slash no one wanted. Who knows. Point is, I wanted to bring that up. Useless trivia bit over for now.

Thank you for reading! One more part, and then it’s the epilogue!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @the-a-word-2214 @fae-sedai @crazybunnyladysworld @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside @aprilivar @msrawog

#freydis vikings #freydis x reader #freydis #ἀλήθεια masterlist

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redhawtriot · 4 years

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Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I am posting at not my normal time at ALL, but I really wanted to get this chapter out so I can work on my favorite chapter so far lol (month five is boutta be LIT) if the tags aren’t working i’ll fix them tomorrow they are acting weird rn.

Thx, for the patience. Love y'all

extra chapter warning: sexual harassment, nsfw..ish

HnM 💕

Month 1, Month 2, Month 4

--MONTH 3--

It was a Friday night about two months ago when Katsuki Bakugou had found himself on the second floor of Club 52—or “the booty room”—as it’s so brusquely known.

But he sure as hell didn’t fucking belong here-- Surrounded by drunken idiots when he had to stay alert and keep his mind sharp-- groped on by inebriated/drugged up women who he would simply growl at in return-- drenched in the germy sweat of the fucking extras around him when he could be at home in his clean bed thinking about how to improve himself tomorrow.

Honestly. How in the flying fuck did he let those three walking hairstyles talk him into coming to this shit show?

The driving beat of the music dancing within his chest was his only saving grace, its constant booming throwing him into a state of familiar comfort as he watched the colorful lights burst around him. He had to admit… they were nice…

No!

Fuck that! He still didn’t belong here, dammit! His roommates, Dumb, Dumber and Dumbest, had all three nagged, and nagged, and nagged him to come here the entire week.

At their begging, Bakugou quite frankly wished that he had lost even more of his hearing than he already had from his quirk. Maybe he could find one of his old drumsticks and jam it into his head—or up those idiots’ asses, “Ahh! I’LL GO! JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” It was the only way to keep him from losing his job as a hero and committing a triple homicide.

So yeah, that’s how he ended up in the booty room—and he wasn’t gonna gratify those damn idiots for even a second by enjoying just an ounce of the hellscape.

“You’re not drinking, huh?”

A sudden inquiry snapped the man out of his thoughts, and he found himself whipping his head around to face the feminine voice that had cut through the loud room. As soon as his eyes encountered yours, Bakugou felt his jaw drop slightly at the sight.

But then he quickly noticed the way that your eyes flickered down to his mouth, and the mocking way that your lips began curving up into a smirk at his display. He wanted to kiss knock that smug look clean off your pretty face. He immediately clenched his jaw back shut and hardened his traitor of an expression so that no more slip-ups could be had.

The two of you sized each other up for a moment before you slickly glanced over your shoulder with a nod, “So I am guessing those belong to you, then?” you motioned toward Mayonnaise, Ketchup and Mustard—all three of Bakugou’s roommate idiots making a theatrical, display in the middle of the dance floor.

Kirishima—who had long taken his shirt off by this point-- noticed Bakugou’s disapproving gaze and attempted a wave back, only to lean into a drunken stumble.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, snapping his regard from the (flat out embarrassing) show “I’m not anyone’s damn babysitter. They’re grown men. They can fucking handle themselves!”

“Good… I’d like to have you to myself for a while,” you turned to the bar-tending counter and beckoned for two drinks.

Bakugou eyed how the man behind the counter ingested you. He was a lion looking for his prey’s weakness and you didn’t even seem to notice—or care. He glared at the man, subconsciously taking a step toward you to speak as the bartender handed you your drink, “For what?” Bakugou asked you flatly. He didn’t even know why the hell he was entertaining this.

You simply shrugged, throwing your eyes up as innocently as you could with the contrarily wicked smirk that befell your face, “To… talk.”

“Yeah right. You’ve got some freak look in your eye. You want something else.”

“Well, hell yeah! Have you seen yourself?” you laughed and Bakugou couldn’t tell whether the stutter in his chest was from your utter bluntness, or from the melody of your happiness, “Anyway, I wont waste your time—or mine. Come find me if you want to…” you trailed off as you handed him the second drink in your hands. You had to bite your lip from smiling too hard, “…Talk. Ba-Bye~.”

As soon as you were the short ear distance away and faded into the dense crowd, the bartender gave a low whistle, “She was fucking fit as hell. God, the things I would do to her!” Bakugou felt his face twitch suddenly as the man continued his rant, “She’d never be able to walk that pretty little walk ever again. Yo, let’s hope she’ll still be here by the time I get off!” he chuckled but Bakugou didn’t see any thing fucking funny about what the bastard said. He might live in what is effectively a hero’s version of a frat house, but still, he never understood “locker room talk.”

Bakugou angrily downed the entire drink in his tight grip in one long pull before slamming it back onto the counter forcefully. His red eyes burned holes through the bartender’s fearful ones—the cup breaking apart under his palm, “She won’t be. Keep your dirty eyes off her, you bastard,” Bakugou didn’t even allow the man an opportunity to rebuttal as he stormed away, his fiery glare set intently on one thing only—or one person only…

That night Bakugou watched intently as the ceiling above him teetered and danced for a moment—sinking into the deep feeling of numbness that his intoxicated mind had succumbed to after about his fourth drink. He wasn’t exactly used to this feeling—this caving in on himself and sense of absolute relaxation as he melted into his bed.

Sinking.

...Sinking.

Wait, was his bed really sinking? His eyebrows furrowed into a state of confusion before he heard a sigh coming from next to him. Things finally clicked into place in his slowed mind.

Oh yeah. That’s right…

He would never get used to having someone else in his bed, probably.

Bakugou turned to where you were imprinting yourself down onto his mattress. You laughed at his stern expression, extending your arm to caress the side of his face, “God, your face is s’ intense like that. It gives me chills,” your thumb danced across the permanent furrow of his eyebrow. There had to be a magnet underneath his skin somewhere right about there that kept the brows in a constant state of attraction.

He snapped his face away from you as the magnet’s strength intensified and twisted his expression even deeper into anger, “Heh?” Goddamn, you were a fucking difficult girl to read for as blunt as you were.

You march up to him in the club like you own the damn place and send him heart eyes and flirtatious body signals, just to stone cold walk away like he never even existed? You proclaim that you want to fuck him, yet made him dance with you for almost an hour before you lead him out?? You let him fuck you in thirty different directions, just to call him out for looking “intense?!!” His friends (if you could fucking call them that) always said that he had an ugly mug, the jealous bastards, but why would a girl he slept with--

“You’re jus’ beautiful is all,” you faintly slurred, instantly hushing any of his thoughts and softening his expression, “People tell me all the time ‘You’re a pretty girl! You should smile more, but why th’ hell should I go around smilin’ for people who don’ deserve it? If they don’ like my resting state, then—”

“Then they can fuck themselves.”

“Yeah,” you looked up at him with a lazy smile. To a sober mind there was no doubt that your expression was an obviously drunken happiness, but to Bakugou’s in that moment—he couldn’t help but think that maybe there was something deeper behind that smile. You giggled, “They can fuck themselves,” you agreed more heartedly-- leaning into Bakugou and rolling him onto his back before snaking your way on top of him. You planted a trail of wet kisses up his neck and finished by making a small bite on his jaw “And maybe you can fuck me,”

Your warm breath on his sensitive neckline made him shiver underneath his skin, but he prayed that you couldn’t feel it. He scoffed to cover the pathetic display, “Again?”

You laughed before planting even more smiling kisses all over him—pressing your body even further into his with each one, “and again. and again. and again…”

“Pervert.” Bakugou tried to grab you by your hips to keep you from grinding into him even further—or at least that was what he intended to do; however, instead he ended up using them to guide your rhythm in rubbing against him.

You laughed again as you sat up on top of him and pressed your hands to his chest—your hips far from slowing down or stopping, “Maybe so, but can y’ really blame me? I have this guy in bed with me who isn’t even tryin’ to make me smile, but I have been fucking cheesin’ it up all night with ‘em.”

Bakugou didn’t even try to fight the growing smile on his face. It really was damn corny and pathetic--whatever this was between the two of you. But it felt so… so fucking right to him.

Still, he was going to tease you-- otherwise he wouldn't be him, “Well, I have this girl in bed with me who won’t stop smiling and it’s really fucking starting to creep me the hell out,” he suddenly flipped you onto the bed and mounted himself on top of you before placing his own assault of kisses on your body. His face only reemerging to take in your stupid, corny, beautiful smile for a long second.

You were absolutely stunning in every respect of the word.

Yet--

Two months later, the same face that now stood in front of him on the platform of the train station was far from smiling—honestly neither was he. He was pissed the hell off. You didn’t even recognize him until just now?? Was he really so fucking immemorable?

You backed away from the man who had just saved you from falling to the tracks. You took him in one final time as the two of you sized each other up, “I don’t even know what to start…”

Bakugou’s face contorted in such anger that it could have been mistaken for disgust, “How about you start by giving me some fucking answers!” he screamed, causing your heart to drop and your stomach to lurch. The two organs effectively were trying to switch places.

Oh fuck. He knew?

“T-to what…?” You trailed off, but you had a feeling what he was going to say next. He was gonna chew you out about the damn parasite growing in your uterus, but you had no idea how he could have known about that! He shouldn't know that!

Deku didn’t tell... He didn’t! ...Did he?? Your heart raced and assaulted your rib-cage with an armada of thrums.

“Why did you sneak out that morning, huh!?” as soon as the words flew out of his mouth, you paused—your mind not quite able to comprehend his grievance, “I was just some sex toy for you? That it??” When he finished yelling and glared at you with expectancy burning within his red irises, you found yourself tilting your head a bit in astonishment and confusion.

Your heart had dropped, but you couldn't tell if it was from relief or repugnance.

That? That was the question he needed answers to?

In the grand scheme of the fuckery on hand, his damaged ego was literally not your problem. You crossed your arms as you stretched your neck toward him, “Because it was supposed to be a club hump and dump! So yeah! We were just sex toys! That was kinda the whole fucking point!” Note the fucking emphasis on ‘supposed to be’! Ugh!

A tinge of underlying hurt quickly flashed across the blond’s stern face. You gave a short, sharp sigh in exasperation as you laid your forehead in one of your palms, “Look, I am not exactly here to cater to your wounded pride. Sorry that you caught feelings for me, but I wasn’t exactly obligated to fix you breakfast that day,” the tired, emotional remarks flew out much faster than you could filter them, but you still felt a twinge of remorse as soon as they hit the air.

The man in front of your face look completely stunned as if you just slapped him across the cheek with your words. It actually seemed pretty unnatural on his expression—like a rare, endangered species-- something not many have seen. Soon enough, however, as the dust of your words fell his expression settled back into a more natural state of fury, “You’re fucking right,” he grunted before turning to exit up the stairs of the subway, “I’m not obligated to listen to this horseshit either.”

Oh fuck. What have you done?

You knew that you had laid it on pretty thick, but the emotions you felt were just so damn overwhelming, “Kacchan… I…!” Why couldn’t you have said something different? Nicer maybe?

Whether you liked it or not, your lives were now tied together and this was not a good first impression—or uh-- second impression technically-- whatever! “I promise you’re gonna want to hear the end of this.” you called to his retreating form.

Bakugou’s face shriveled even further, stretching its extent of maximum disgust. Hearing that name come out of your mouth left his stomach feeling ill, “I promise you, I don’t give a fuck”

You slapped your arms at your side as you finally halted in your attempt to get him to stop walking away. Fuck it. You were about to completely call his bluff because you definitely weren’t about to chase him. You were much too tired and emotional for this shit! You just wanted to get home and sleep these random-ass, foreign emotions away, “I’m pregnant.” you simply exclaimed.

Bakugou froze.

In that moment, it was as if the entire world around him had iced over as he replayed your words in his head over and over again. He couldn't have heard you right, “What?”

The man felt every fiber of his being stiffen. So much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to turn around and face you. In your silence was his answer loud and clear, “How… how the fuck do I know it’s mine?” he murmured, still unable to turn towards you—he didn’t want you to see the raw emotion that his face probably held in that moment.

You barely even heard him, but the weight of his words was heavy enough to slam down on your ears and cause a burning reaction from you “What?!”

Your shriek finally prompted him to whip himself around, and you almost wish that he didn’t. The mangled mess of feelings transcribed on his face left his cheeks flushed a furious shade of red as he shouted at you, “You like one-night stands so much—how do you know it’s mine?” With a horrified expression, you glanced around you for a moment to the other people in the subway, who immediately adverted their gazes.

“Hell, You’ve been hanging around that bastard, Deku. How do I know it’s not his?” You looked back to Bakugou with a choked ‘Wow!’ that could be interpreted as “Are you fucking kidding me right fucking now??” These strangers were getting one hell of a show, too.

You stormed up to him to keep him from shouting your all of your dirty laundry into the air, “Deku and I aren’t—” You stopped yourself. Would any fucking thing you said to this man make a difference? He didn’t know you from fucking Adam-- or from fucking Adam. You groaned in annoyance, “Look! I know that it’s yours because you're the only idiot I have slept with in months! An idiot who doesn’t know how to use a goddamn condom apparently!” you half whispered to him as your spectators began eyeing you again. You flipped them off as Bakugou continued,

“I’m the idiot?! Well if you could ACTUALLY FUCKING REMEMBER that night then you would know that we did use condoms the first three times! They ran out and you told me to keep going,” He screamed—by this point you’d given up hope of containing your melodrama as he continued loudly, “What idiot says that unless they are on birth control or something?!”

You throw your face in your hands with a shriek of a sigh before looking back up to his furious face “Here’s the deal,” you decided to completely ignore his comment, becoming tired of this theatrical display of emotions spewing from him, “I can’t spontaneously conjure up some proof that this-- this thing is yours but I assure you it fucking is. But hey!! If you don’t want to stick around, I am not the type of person to make you. I can deal with this myself,” his face fell a bit as you swiftly turned yourself around to make your exit, but you didn’t make it far before you felt a heavy hand grab you by the wrist.

“Let’s say it is mine...,” Bakugou offered flatly, “You don’t think I can handle it” his daring tone left your mind whirling. This wast a fucking wrestling match or even one of his villain attacks! He continued, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna let my kid grow up without me. Give me your fucking number,” He easily snatched your phone from your front pocket with a slight protest coming from you, but ultimately, you really were tired as hell and just wanted this day to be over with al-fucking-ready. You sighed as he put his number in your phone—your mind briefly wandering why you didn’t put a password on the damn thing.

In a short instant, he shoved your device back to you and promptly turned on a heel. Only acknowledging you once more to tell you to “Stay off of the fucking train tracks,” before he stiffly marched away. Good riddance.

You couldn’t even blame the spectators anymore. This was a mess. This was a downright, melodramatic, teen drama on CW disaster. This was… this was your life now.

Fuck…

“Oooh... no smiles today, huh?”

About a week later you found yourself walking up the stairs to a modern mansion with stupid windows for walls. A true sign of pretentiousness and obvious lack of shame. This house was a display for all to see... kinda like your argument with that Bakugou last week.

You shook this thought out of your mind and put your ‘work cap’ back on. You were on your way to get some test shots in for the week with your new hair cut that the agency had forced on you recently.

Instead of throwing her a “What’s there to smile for?” like you wanted to, you threw her a “This better?” and forced a small smile at the girl, Dina, who had traveled along with you to get her test shots done today as well. Usually for these kinds of things, you would be alone as you traveled to the photographer’s house, but it was always nice to have someone come with you so you weren’t complaining—well-- not about her company at least.

There truly was nothing to smile for recently. You were pregnant with a raging, quirkcist asshole’s child, said asshole won’t answer any of your damn texts or calls that aren’t directly related to the prenatal appointment that you two have later today, Deku hasn’t been able to hang out with you as much because of his work, and as trivial as this may seem, you looked in the mirror today to saw a completely different person.

You were quite used to your agency drastically changing your hair, but that, along side the obvious rounding of your face and the speckles of hormone induced facial topography growing on your skin, led you to a slight identity crisis. The girl in the reflection was a sloppy second to who you used to be and you hated it-- you hated sharing this body.

“Trouble in paradise with Deku, Y/N?” her tone had a hint of worry in it as she rung on the doorbell to the modern house. You could only give her a slight shrug as the bell sung out,

“I’m fine. Really.” you lied.

“Hello, hello!” The photographer’s voice loudly blared out before the door could even fully open to reveal him. He gave you a shocked glance, “What a pretty lady—pretty ladies!” he corrected as he stepped aside and invited you in with the swing of his arm. You rolled your eyes as he turned his back to walk through the house. He looked like the textbook definition of a douchebag.

Fuck not judging a book by it’s cover. If it walks like a duck. Talks like a duck. Then it’s probably a misogynistic asshole who only got into photography to get away with his sick urge to take photos of unfamiliar women.

“Okay ladies, I just want to preface by saying that you can feel comfortable around me, alright? I think of all my models as a family,” Dina stiffened into a board as he came over and rested his hand on her hip. She forced her lips into a fine line that could resemble a smile as he firmly patted her, “This shouldn’t take too long-- only about five to six hours, ‘kay?”

Your face scrunched up, but you just wanted to get this day over with so you could go to that stupid appointment and wouldn’t have to deal with “Cockugou” for another few weeks. Throughout the next few hours, the photographer actually wasn’t too bad. He was for sure creepy, but you noticed that he wasn’t so bold with you as he had been with Dina earlier. Of course there were little off hand comments like, “You are doing sexy.” instead of “you are doing great.” And he would refer to both you and Dina as “baby” is a husky, drawn out tone—like he was moaning, but besides that he was actually being pretty calm.

Until he wasn’t.

“Okay! Now take your tops and bra off,” both you and Dina paused as the camera flashed once more. As the two of you threw each other a wary glance the photographer spoke up again, “Trust me, I have a vision. You’re gonna love it!”

“I- I just don’t feel comfortable with that,” Dinah spoke up feebly. She looked to you for support, so you nodded before she returned her gaze to him, “Do you think… maybe we could do something else?”

The photographer sighed and threw his nose into pinched fingers as if you all had offended him, “Look honey, you’re not that photogenic. I am having to bust my ass off not to capture that cellulite on the back of your thighs, so when I tell you to do something, it’s for a reason.”

You glanced over to Dina with a horrified expression. You noticed that her hands were clenched at her sides and shook ever so slightly after she subconsciously rubbed the back of her thighs-- you also noticed a prominent thigh gap in between the two tiny appendages. You shot your stern glare back over to the photographer.

He sighed again—this time even harder than before, “Take five!” he frustratedly pulled out a box of cigarettes and stormed over to his patio outside—the glass door slamming shut behind him.

You walked over to Dinah and hesitantly found your hands drifting toward her. You were never really good at cheering people up. Hell, you had to rely on alcohol to cheer you up for the vast majority of you adult (and a little bit of your pre-adult) life. Still, you took her shaking hands in your own. “Hey. Don’t listen to that asshole. If you’re not comfortable...”

“I have done nude shots before, but this just feels… wrong. Doesn’t it?” she refused to look you in the eyes as hers glazed over in a thick sheet of shame. She was right. Nude shots were nothing new at all. In fact, some of your best shots had been done in the nude—they had the potential to be true art, but this? This was wrong.

She shook her head,“But I just… I don’t want to be unprofessional.”

“We can walk out right now. I’ll call Ainu and tell her what’s up I am sure she’ll understand,” as soon as you began walking to gather up some of your belongings, her voice spoke up once more—this time much colder than before,

“Maybe for you. Y/N, you could get away with murder at our agency-- you know that, right? You’re the one who bought Ainu her ticket to the top-- her golden child,” she sneered. You threw your eyes toward her own—not quite comprehending if this was the same person still talking to you.

It was, but this Dina had tears growing in her eyes, “Not everyone can half-ass everything and not care…” her voice shook. The two of you just stared at each other as wild emotions filled your expressions and overflowed into the room to drown you.

The patio door clicking open snapped you out of your trance and Dina furiously began wiping her eyes clean as the photographer reemerged, “Alright pretty ladies! Who’s ready to get back into things?”

You sighed.

With a quick roll of your eyes you angrily threw your top off—not even giving the girl with you a second glance as she did the same and the two of you settled yourself into position. The atmosphere was certainly much heavier than it had been before, but the photographer obviously couldn’t read the room,

“Y/N might I say, that your tits looks wonderful! Have you gotten a job recently? I mean- they look huge!”

Okay.

That. Was. It. You couldn’t fucking hold it back anymore, “Talk about my tits again and I’ll stab you in the neck with your own goddamn tripod,” you kept posing as if you totally hadn’t just threatened someone’s life, but the photographer fell away from his camera, shock painted on his expression. Slacking on the job. Huh, who’s the unprofessional one now?

“…S-sweetheart I—”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me!” you screamed, storming up to point a finger in his face. This surge of random emotion overwhelmed you. You had never felt this before—like you were gonna explode if you didn’t unleash it. And unleash it, you did, “The fuck is your problem?! You get some kick outta being a perverted asshole, asshole?!”

Dinah tried to come pull you back by the shoulders, “Y/N, maybe you should just calm dow—”

“No! Fuck this bastard!!” you smack her hands away as the photographer gets up and crossed his arms,

“This is so unprofessional. You women always jump to conclusions. Why cant you ever just take the compliment?”

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TAKE MY FOOT UP YOUR--”

And that’s how you ended up getting sent home two hours early. You had attempted to call Deku to rant about the harsh encounter, but he was at work. You supposed that saving lives a a little bit more important than “The Dramatic Tale of a Quirkless Model” or whatever fucking CW show your life had become. Your mind briefly fleeted to calling Bakugou, but he certainly wouldn’t answer anyway. No. Fuck that.

So you decided to text Deku and cry into your pillow instead,

You:

[2:49pm]

I mean he was just such a fucking dick!

I should have actually stuck my foot up his ass but he for sure would have liked it🙄

Seriously. I don’t mind nude photos

But there is a difference between art/photography and porn

Deku:

Right!!

Well I’m glad you stood up for yourself!

You:

No! Don’t tell me tht!😫

Deku:

I am upset tha you stood up for yourself…?

You:

UGHHH

I just wish tht I had just walked out

But the other girl wouldn’t leave and I couldn’t leaver her their

There*

God

Ainu is gonna 💀me for this

Deku:

How can I help you?

I’ll find what I can on the photographer?

You:

Talk Kacchan into not going to our clinical visit.👉👈

You knew that Deku really wanted to go, and honestly you would really prefer if he did. Regardless, Deku stood up for his childhood bully like the saint he was,

Deku:

Y/N! He’s the father. he deserves to go, don’t you think?

Also!

Don’t forget Baby Notes vol 1! I wrote some questions for you to ask!

You stifled a small laugh as you eyed that stupid goddamn notebook he left on your nightstand one of the few days he stopped by your home.

You:

Grr

I can’t handle Cockugou’s moodiness right now

And I-- Oop!

Speak of the devil. He’s here.

Talk later k?💕kith!

You snatched the notebook from your nightstand and marched to your front entrance. The knocking at your door was downright disrespectful—constantly switching between pounding knocks on your door and vigorous successions of the doorbell ringing.

“Fucking. Calm. Down!” you screamed out the door before answering, revealing Bakugou’s stern gaze,

“What the hell took you so long?” he huffed, causing your face to scrunch up into an expression that mirrored his own.

“I had to walk to the damn door, you know! I’m quirkless? No teleportation quirk here!” He only clicked his tongue at your response. You noticed the way his eyes drifted down to the notebook in your hands before they narrowed into even tighter slits.

“Let’s just fucking go, already,” he took your wrist and led you out of the house before shutting your door. You could really just knock him the hell out. Okay, maybe you couldn't, but your weak ass might just be able to get one good hit in! He deserved it, not replying to any of your attempts to reach out to him past talking about the appointment,

“Why didn’t you answer my texts all week?”

“I was busy.” he simply said, not even bothering to look you in the eye. This was the last time he spoke up for a long while. In fact, you didn't even hear his voice again until later when the two of you sat in the small, shoebox of a room in the clinic with the prenatal physician,

“This is your first appointment, right?” the doctor, was extremely old looking and your mind phased into a grim question of ‘how the hell can someone so close to death know jack about birth?’

You tried your best to push these dark thoughts out of your head as you gave him a slight answer, “Yeah…” you laid back on the crinkly paper covered recliner and lift your shirt a bit for the examination. You looked down at the small, hardly noticeable bump in your lower abdomen and internally cringed.

“This is the father?” you knew that it didn't really matter, and that he was probably just trying to make you comfortable and spark up some small talk, but you rally didn't wanna hear it out loud.

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, but Bakugou loudly spoke up, filling the absence of your voice, “Why the hell else would I be here, old man?” he scoffed and twisted his face away from everyone.

You raised an eyebrow at his rudeness, but from the vast stories that Deku had told you about him, you shouldn't have been surprised. But still, it was like seeing a mythical creature in real life-- a grumpy troll under a bridge, if you will.

The doctor gave a loud laugh at Bakugou’s remark, causing both you and him to snap your surprised gazed to the elderly man, “You’d be surprised at the shit I have seen, son. Someone brought their neighbor for the entire 39 weeks once-- the husband came in only once or twice, I think.”

You couldn't help but to laugh at this. Your doctor’s voice had a much more youthful demeanor than he had originally led on, “Oh, they were definitely fucking behind the husbands back,” you smirked.

“So Mama Bakugou,”

And just like that your smile was completely wiped off of your face, “This is your first child right?” the doctor asked. You felt Bakugou throw you a fleeting expectant look. You assumed that it was probably because he hadn't even thought to ask you this question. The two of you really didn't know each other. Matter of a fact, this doctor, with your list of medical history in his hand, probably knew a lot more than the father of this ‘it’ inside of you.

“L/N actually,” you corrected, “and yes, it is.” with that, Bakugou’s glare drifted back off into unconcerned and uncaring territory as he found a sudden interest in the glass container of gloves on the counter.

“Well you look about 10 weeks along. They’ll be about the size of a strawberry right now-- almost done with your first trimester.” he trailed off as he began coating your stomach with some sticky jelly substance.

“What??” you could have sworn that you had only met Bakugou about two months ago right? So does that mean...

“The date of conception would have actually been a little closer to about 7 or 8 weeks ago. We just count by the first day of your last period. No need to get worried about the neighbor, I don’t think, Papa Bakugou,” he winked to the blond, who only gave a scoff in return. You let out a slight sigh of relief.

The recipe for the rest of this appointment as the doctor searched your organs for your uterus in the ultrasound included him making small talk and Bakugou ignoring it with you giving slight answers here and there,

However, finally, something really caught both of your’s attention, “I think that you guys should take time today to find your primary care physician,”

“Why not you, idiot?” Bakugou spoke up and it shocked you. You were surprised he cared about this out of everything.

“I am thinking that I should send you to someone with a specialty in a multiple pregnancy birth.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you and Bakugou shared a brief, terrified glance at one another, “What...?” Bakugou spat.

“You see these two circles? It looks like you’ve got two buns in the oven! Congrats on the twins!,”

T...wins...?

The world bean fading into a blur for you as he continued, “Now You are a little past getting the neural tube check, but we can get you started in on some genetic testing and counseling’s. Every thing is looking alright, but we just want to…”

The world around you moved in a blurry, choppy chain of images as your mind tried its best to comprehend the knowledge it had been given. So... not only were you carrying one parasite... but two?

You couldn't bring yourself to listen the rest of the appointment, and you had a feeling that Bakugou wasn't picking up on much else after the shocking news either.

If you thought that commute to the hospital was quiet, the walk back to your apartment was even more so.

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sheabuttahwrites · 3 years

Text

[I Know]

. four : reunited, and it feels so...

three

Monday

It was about twenty minutes after eight and Cam had just left. Though, I’d been up for a while since I had to make breakfast for him. I didn’t mind, because I was too anxious to sleep anyway. I was finally about to get out of this depressing ass house for a bit. And O was never boring, so I knew it was about to be a good time. Plus I was so ready to see him. I don't know why, but this particular stretch had felt much longer than all the others. I was on the way to go pack my bag when I decided to mess with him a little instead. I grabbed my phone ready to compose a text, but I already had a notification from him.

Get up. I’m in route, on my way to you

It had only been there for one minute. I guess we both had the same idea to play this morning.

I’m up. Been up

You ready?

Yes big head I’m ready

Ok short legs I was just making sure

I hollered. He was just average height himself, and only about six inches taller than me. Calling somebody short.

Lmao why you gotta take it there? I’ll be in your vicinity today, don't get beat up

I’m not worried

You should be

Why? Ain't nobody scared of you Jay Baby

Say it to my face

You think I won't

Ok keep that same energy when you see me

Oh fa sho, you do the same

Don't worry about me, you know I’m a G

Keep talking with your bad ass

You ain’t gon do nothing

Me and my big head can stay home

I’m not worried lmao you know you wanna see me

You ain't funny

And you ain't gotta lie, you chuckled

Lol anyway I’m leaving now, I’ll be over there in a minute

I know

Lmao whatever

I laughed aloud sending him three crying laughing emoji, then slid my phone down into my bra. Finally, I went over to the closet to fill my duffle. I threw a few casual pieces in first, because comfort over everything, and then I added about three or four that could possibly be worn out. I grabbed some sneakers, a couple pairs of heels, a little jewelry, underwear, pajamas, and I packed a separate smaller bag with all of my toiletries. I had taken a shower earlier so I was ready. For about a second, I debated on whether I should change, then decided against it. I knew we would be going right to sleep once we got to his place, so my loungewear would do.

While I waited for him, I walked over to the mirror, happy that my home remedies had helped my bruises and swelling disappear so quickly. It had only been about two and a half days, but a few aspirin and some intense ice pack usage had really worked. My rug burns were scabbed, but I wasn't too worried about those since the majority would be under my clothes. However, there was still a tiny something at the corner of my mouth, so I covered it with a bit of concealer and finished it with some setting powder. And I was sure to toss the two of them into my makeup bag for later use.

A little after nine, much to my delight, the doorbell rang. I squealed, giddy as ever, as I jumped up to walk to the door. And, when I opened it, before me stood my bestest friend in the whole world with the goofiest smile on his face. I laughed and invited him in, so excited that I was hardly able to get the door closed behind him. Then I kissed his cheek and pulled him into the tightest hug. It felt so good to be in his arms again. “Hey.” I spoke into his chest and his deep, honeyed timbre fluttered against my ears.

“Hey.”

I closed my eyes and just held on to him, feeling completely carefree, taking in a moment that didn't get to happen as much as I’d like. I didn't want to let go. Until he took his face down to nuzzle my neck. I flinched and giggled, backing away from him and shielding myself with my shoulder. He knew better. “Don't…”

“Now what's all that shit you was talking?” he asked jokingly, looking down into my face and laughing.

I tossed my head back, cackling, before I went to smack his arm. “Shut up.”

“Look out. You ready?”

“Yeah, just let me get my stuff.” I left his embrace and started for the living room where I had been waiting.

“Hurry up, get me out this nigga shit.”

I screamed. I knew he hated coming here. But this was his own fault. Because he also didn’t like texting to tell me he was outside, because to him it wasn't courteous. For the same reason, he didn’t like me taking Ubers to or from his place. I personally didn't have a problem with either. Both had been done maybe twice in the beginning and he told me he felt weird about it. I only half understood, but I didn't fight him on it. Honestly, it felt nice to actually be valued for a change. “Simmer down, sir. I’m coming.”

“You know you naked?”

I paid him no mind and kept moving toward my bags, still tickled by his earlier demand. “Whatever. No, I’m not.” My boxers and tank were plenty clothes.

“Dude would probably have a fit if he knew you were leaving the house in that.”

Slightly appalled, I stopped mid stroll and turned back to him. “Excuse you? He would also have a fit if he knew you were picking his girl up. But that hasn’t been an issue for you for how long now?”

“Good point. Carry on.” The way he waved me off almost had me in tears. My rebuttal had shut him up too quick.

“I thought so.”

“Not even a jacket, though? It’s kinda cool out there.”

“I’ll be ok. I’m just running to the car then right into the house after that.”

“If you say so. But what happened to your knee?”

“Oh, nothing. I scraped it on the carpet. It was an accident,” I hastily explained just under a shout, disappearing around the corner. I hoped I wouldn't have to go into more detail. Omari definitely wasn't shy about asking questions when he wanted to know something.

“Oh. Damn.”

I returned in no time with my duffle bag in hand and my purse on my arm. He took the bag, being his usual gentlemanly self, and I grabbed my keys to lock up the house. Once we were on the porch, I made sure to engage the alarm from my phone. Then he and I hopped into his white Range that I loved so much, and we were out.

“You hungry?” he asked, yawning.

I yawned instantly, seeing him do it first. “Nah, I'm good. I just wanna go back to sleep.”

“Word. Me, too.”

After Cam was done packing last night, he woke me up for round three. Or maybe it was four. I don’t know. But it wasn’t uncommon for him to try and fuck me senseless before he left for work. I guess he thought overuse of his penis was what it took for me to still be there whenever he returned. Whatever the case, I was tired as hell and in need of some serious rest.

2:04pm

I opened my eyes, slowly becoming aware that Jade and I were face to face. I lingered for a second, letting my vision clear up, enjoying the view more than anything, though. She was stunning. Just so beautiful. Her features had to have been sculpted by the most masterful hands, using only the finest of materials. The lines were sharp, but they had a softness to them. Her skin was golden like warmed maple on a glorious Sunday morning. When they were available, her round, dark brown eyes were gentle, yet so alluring. The way they sparkled in the sun always got me. To top it all off, her sultry pout sat perfectly beneath a nose that fit just right. She was flawless.

While I stood stretching, yawning, alternating between bending and rubbing the arm she had been lying on, I could see a sense of calm in her expression. She always looked that way when we were together. Like she was happy. And I knew that wasn't the case at home. I tried not to think about it too often, but honestly it really bothered me. She hit me up pretty regularly, revealing how he talked to her, the many ways he mistreated her. But it was probably a lot worse than she was willing to admit. My instincts told me that he was putting his hands on her. She had never confirmed my suspicions, but I knew it was the truth. I knew. And the thought of that shit alone killed me. She was so sweet. So soft spoken and mild mannered. She didn't have a cruel bone in her body. I just couldn’t imagine her actually having the need to protect herself not only from harmful, ugly words but some nigga’s hand. It fucked me up. She was easily my favorite person. I hadn’t witnessed a more pure soul. And to be aware that she was suffering, especially through something so horrible and damaging, was beginning to be too much. I couldn't do shit about it. I couldn't fix it, I couldn't change it. All I could do was be there for her, give her a place to decompress from time to time. Which I loved. I wanted to help her in any way I could, but I was starting to feel like I was in over my head. Truthfully, I didn’t know how much longer I was gonna be able to do this. It was becoming very difficult for me to live with myself. My conscience was tearing my ass up. The most trifling woman didn’t deserve what she was being subjected to every day, and she wasn’t even guilty of anything. Her only fault was loving a nigga who meant her absolutely no good.

I didn't fully understand that either. Of course I knew love could make you do things you maybe wouldn't normally do, but in this case, what was there to love? How could she look at a nigga who was constantly causing her pain and feel anything other than hate? I just didn't get it. She had to know that whatever she was experiencing wasn't love. He was abusing her. How could she still love him? Why would she take his wrath and still allow him to receive all of her goodness? She had to know he didn't deserve it. She had to know that she deserved so much better. From any man. From life. From any situation she found herself in. She had to know that something wasn't right.

But she held fast to her claims. From the start she made it known that she was in a relationship and that she was in love. I respected her honesty, but her words and her actions never matched up. Her mood on the way to my place and the one on the way back to hers were always on two completely opposite ends of the scale. I don't know if she couldn't conceal it or if she just didn't care to, but it was painfully evident where she was excited to be and where she dreaded. She just didn't move like the taken woman she alleged to be. Not by her ‘man’ at least.

I walked into the bathroom and made my way to the toilet. Then I went to the sink to wash up. I was leaning over brushing my teeth when I felt her arms wrap around me.

I kissed his back, resting my head right against his bare skin after. “Hey.”

“What’s up?”

I caught his reflection in the mirror and, before I could stop them, my lips had curled into an enormous grin. I was so ridiculously glad to finally be in the same place as him. Plus he was so cute. He had toothpaste all over his mouth, but it took nothing away from his appearance. I couldn't help but notice how good we looked standing there together. A better best friend duo didn't exist.

“I’ma start thinking you happy to see me in a minute,” he teased, finishing up at the sink.

I busted out laughing. How dare he just blow up my spot like that? I let my arms fall from his waist. He turned to face me and I swatted his chest, backing away to leave the room. “Get off. Don't act like you didn't miss me.”

He followed me out, going toward his closet. “I already told you that. You know I’m always glad to be in your presence.”

“Um hmm.” I bashfully rolled my eyes, blushing against my own will. Thankfully he was trailing me. He went into the closet and I leaned up against the doorway. “So I thought about it, let’s stay in today.”

“Ok.” He took a t-shirt from one of the drawers and pulled it over his head. “That’s cool.”

“We can go do something tomorrow.”

“Well, I got a couple meetings,” he casually announced, walking over to the other side of the room headed for the couch.

“Awww.” I wasn’t expecting him to have to work so soon. “What time?”

“The first one is at nine in the morning, but neither of them should take too long. Nobody’s recording and I’m not mixing anything. So it should only be a few hours.”

I stood as he sat, my demeanor in a totally different arena than before. My arms were loosely folded across my chest and a slight scowl had inevitably taken over my expression. “Ok.”

“Jay,” he chuckled, picking up the remote, “don't act like that.”

“I know what you call a few hours. I probably gotta be here all day without you.”

“It won't be all day,” he claimed, giving the TV all of his attention as he flipped through the channels. “I should be back by around three at the latest. Maybe four.”

I smacked my lips, annoyed that he was alluding to seven hours being minuscule. That was most certainly the entire day. “That’s long.”

“Pooh, you know work doesn't stop. I’m always working.”

“I know, but I just got here.”

He sighed heavily, looking up at me with remorseful eyes and a frown to match. “Why you tryna make me feel bad?”

“I’m not. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself,” I spoke lightly, but the defeat was heavy in my voice. I dropped my head and gave him my eyes, making sure to slouch my shoulders and pout as deeply as I could manage. I didn't even hold it long before we were both cracking up.

“Don't even try it. Fake self.”

“Whaaaat?”

“You just about to be sleep the whole time anyway.”

I doubled over and slapped my knee, because he definitely wasn’t lying. “Whatever.” But I was not about to admit it. Instead, I went to my bag and grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste. “Be right back.”

#original fiction #original characters #black characters #black fiction #black fic #black writer #drama #romance #love story #i know #SheaButtahWrites

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spiralingsights · 3 years

Note

11 and 28? I would give an f/o but idk who these would fit

[ ohoho fake dating + enemies to lovers i can’t resist ]

[ “Please just pretend to be my date.” (11) and “Please tell me this is a joke.” (28) ]

[ Characters: William Afton, Keegs Arrowood ]

[ warnings: pining and repressed feelings lol ]

“Please just pretend to be my date.”

Keegs stared at his boss, processing what the man just said to him. Did he seriously just ask for Keegs, arguably his worst enemy, to be his date? For a fucking office party that Fazbear Entertainment was holding for restaurant owners? Why couldn’t he just ask Henry???

“Please tell me this is a joke,” the mechanic finally replied, his answer gaining a groan from William. Apparently, it was not.

“We both know I don’t joke with you,” William responded, confirming Keegs’s fears. What kind of stupid, fruity hell had he descended into? What did he do to deserve this? Well, he probably knew.

Keegs let out a long sigh, about to tell him to fuck off before William spoke again. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re my last hope. Henry said no, Scrap would have killed me if I asked, not even your idiot friend Wrath wanted to go.”

Of course he didn’t want to go, Wrath was in love with Splice and would have considered it cheating even if he still hadn’t told the animatronic his feelings.

“I hate you...” Keegs muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why don’t you just go alone? No one will judge you for it, if you even care about that. And the rumour that you’re dating your employee would be worse!”

That seemed to make William think for a moment, opening his mouth for a rebuttal but closing it soon after. His gaze even drifted away- he clearly hadn’t thought about those consequences. After a moment, he shook his head.

“Being alone is more embarrassing.” Keegs let out a loud groan at this, running his hands over his hand and clasping them behind his neck as he turned away from that british fuck.

What made it worse is that he actually kinda wanted to go. Not because he wanted to go with William, but because he hadn’t had an excuse to dress up the entire time he’d been active. A big office party like this? It would be perfect. And it would give him the chance to scope out the other restaurant owners, and test their animatronic knowledge.

He finally turned to face William again, surprised to find the brunette still standing there. He had to admit, it was amusing to see him so desperate. He let out a huff a breath, giving in to the desire to wear a suit.

“Fine,” he said, not missing how his boss immediately lit up (while also somehow seeming disappointed- probably because he officially had to take his most hated employee to a function with him). “One condition.”

Of course he had a fucking condition. William just nodded, not wanting to push his luck. “Do not send anybody my way so they can talk to your “partner”. Tell them I’m socially anxious if you have to, but I will straight up tell them the horrors of this place.”

William’s face scrunched up in discomfort, but relaxed when he realized this was the best he was gonna get. “Deal.”

And so, it was set in stone.

---

Keegs straightened his jacket for what seemed like the hundredth time as he looked in the mirror in his bedroom. He’d have to leave soon; he didn’t want William to know where he lived, so they’d agreed that they’d meet at the Afton house instead.

The suit he wore fit perfectly, and was the same pink shade as his hair. Well, the jacket and slack were. His shoes were black, his shirt a light shade of lavender (to match William’s inevitably purple suit), and the little bowtie he wore was a rainbow eyesore.

With a quick glance at the clock, he ran a hand over his hair, said goodbye to Vanny, and headed out.

William’s house actually wasn’t too far from the apartment Keegs shared with Vanny, but he only came over at midnight and 2am, so it wasn’t like he could be tracked back there, so he never worried. This was the first time he’d ever driven there though, usually just walking.

He paused upon reaching the doorway. Did he really want to do this? And, more importantly, why was he excited to do it? He knew it was more than just a chance to dress up or interrogate some assholes. He didn’t like the metaphorical butterflies in his... well, he doesn’t really have a stomach. His intake?

....

He didn’t like the flutter in his chest when knocked on the door, and heard a familiar voice call out, “coming!” from inside. He especially didn’t like the extra flutter in his chest when the door opened and revealed William, dressed in a purple suit like he thought he’d be, but still surprising him nonetheless.

Apparently, Afton had the same idea Keegs did and was wearing a light pink dress shirt under his dark purple suit jacket, a shade that went perfect with the shade of Keegs’s own jacket.

Neither of them said anything about it, but Keegs couldn’t help but notice the pleased, and surprised, smile on his boss’s face.

“Let’s go,” he quickly said, turning on his heel and heading right back to his car.

---

William looked hilarious with his long limbs folded into Keegs’s volkswagen beetle, the car clearly not built for men as tall as him. It was a sight Keegs would treasure for the rest of his robotic life.

“Comfortable?” Keegs teased, snickering at the glare William shot at him. Thank god they were back to bullying each other, he wasn’t going to acknowledge whatever the fuck happened earlier without dying first.

“Laugh it up Arrowood, I doubt you’ll feel the same way when you’re out of your element,” William replied, narrowing his eyes at Keegs.

Unfortunately, and he’d never admit this, the bastard was right. Social functions weren’t Keegs’s thing. He’d never been good at feigning interest, and that was pretty important at shit like this.

But he just rolled his eyes. At least they’d be out of the car soon.

---

It wasn’t better out of the car.

The building the party was being held in was... crowded. Uncomfortable. Keegs ended up having to stick far closer to William that he’d planned, and whatever fucked up reaction his false human heart was having never let him forget it.

The only up side was that William seemed just as uncomfortable as he was. Not with the people around them, he spoke to them just fine and even seemed to forget about his fake date. That is, until Keegs bumped into him.

Of course he noticed that Afton’s face turned red whenever they touched, but he had no idea why. At first he thought he was angry, but William didn’t look like that when he got angry. Unfortunately, Keegs hadn’t reached the “human bodily reactions” part of his research yet, so it merely served to confuse him.

Finally, after three or four hours, he grabbed William’s arm to get his attention, ignoring the red on the man’s face. “I need a break. I’ll be out back. I probably won’t run.”

There was a short pause, before William took Keegs’s car keys and pocketed them. “You won’t escape me that easily,” the man joked, only because there were people watching. He even threw in a wink for effect.

Keegs just rolled his eyes, and escaped to through the backdoor. He was quick to pull his jacket off, relishing the cool breeze. Once realizing he wouldn’t be going back in for a while, he also untied his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.

Once satisfied, he sat down on the bottom step of the little stairs, holding his palm against his forehead to cool it down to help with his headache. It wasn’t long before he heard the backdoor open and close.

There was a pause, before the man (undoubtedly William, based on the footsteps) made his way down the stairs and sat down next to Keegs. The android looked over at him, not at all surprised to find he’d also taken off his own jacket, and loosened his tie.

“Getting too much for even you? I’m glad I left when I did,” Keegs said, returning to his goal of soothing his brain. He heard William chuckle. It was a soft sound, clearly from his chest. But it was also... not rude? It was actually kind of sweet.

And then he sighed, and the sound brought that flutter back. “I would seem so, yes. I forgot how draining it is to talk to idiots.” He meant people who weren’t handy with animatronics, something Keegs had learned from observation (eavesdropping).

Keegs just nodded. He understood. Animatronics were his whole life, it was hard to talk about anything but them.

“Thank you for coming with me,” William spoke up after a while, making Keegs look up at him again. “I know we don’t always get along, but I’ve... enjoyed it. Getting along, I mean.”

The mechanic just stared at him, surprised. He opened his mouth to presumably reply, but William leaned forward quickly and caught him in a gentle, cautious kiss.

Keegs shocked himself by returning it.

William’s lips were soft, and easy to lean into. Keegs suddenly understood how this man had ended up with a wife. He felt a hand in his hair, and leaned into it without breaking the kiss, unwilling to break the moment.

He’d noticed the tinge of alcohol on Afton’s lips the second they’d connected with his own, but he didn’t care all that much.

Finally, William broke it by leaning back, looking down at Keegs with slightly pink lips. “Between us?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, a small smile on his face. ‘Between us’ was a fun little thing they’d started the first time Keegs found the man covered in blood.

But this one was different. This one meant a lot more, and couldn’t be used at evidence against the man Keegs was supposed to eventually kill.

“Between us,” Keegs replied just as softly, and this time... he meant it.

#holy SHIT how did this get so long #scrap.writing #asky doo #anon #drabble request #this isn't a drabble anymore it's a fucking one shot wjhbfwebfjwe

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inmyarmswrappedin · 4 years

Note

Now that Nora's season is coming to end, what are somethings that you want for amira's season

Hi 😁 I bet you thought I’d never reply to this ask! Well, after you sent this in MARCH, I am finally posting an answer.

Btw, I did the same for Nora’s season, and as a note, I’m a white European and an atheist. If any of this is offensive or not my place to say, I preemptively apologize.

1) I would like for Amira's arc not to be about being Muslim. That is, Cris' arc isn't about being bi, it's about learning (and accepting) that she's more than the fun friend. That she has and can offer more to the people in her life. Nora's arc isn't about being a feminist, it's about not being so set in your first impression of someone that you don't notice red flags or don't notice them trying to be better people. Same with Eva and not being defined by her mistakes, or about Viri and her financial situation. And I would like the same for Amira.

2) I think one common denominator of all Sana seasons so far is that they've shown the mains doing something that people assume hijabi can't do when it's more like they're systematically excluded from participating. For Sana, it was basketball. For Imane, it was dancing. For Amira M, it was boxing. I joked on twitter that Amira N's thing should be binging TV shows and eating junk, proving that hijabi are really like anyone else, but on a serious note, I'd like for Amira's thing to be photography (and maybe modeling? since Amira's friend was taking pics of her).

3) A scene where Amira explains how she can be a feminist and a hijabi both, just so we as a society have that scene to point to when the question inevitably comes up again. Seriously, I feel like that's one of the questions I most often see people asking Hajar.

4) I want the association girls to have their own youtube channel. Or at the very least, their own instagram and/or twitter account. I would love for them to post memes punching up about their experiences.

5) I feel like, much like with trans narratives, there's this "acceptable" narrative for hijabi in mainstream society, which is: the character made the decision to cover after coming up with solid reasons to do so. I.e. she made the decision early and can defend it with inarguable rebuttals. It's like women can't be trusted unless they know 150% what they're doing, be it covering, or dating a girl, or going vegan, or any number of things. I really appreciate that Amira started covering just because it felt right, and she's finding meaning in it after the fact. I would like for this to be a thing in her season, that she's still figuring herself out, that she's not already an Islamic scholar.

6) I also think that's what makes her stand apart from the other Sanas. I feel like (maybe with Zoya's exception), none of the other Sanas would entertain a crush on a white guy. They'd have never drunk or flirted (like we know Amira used to do). It's like they're not allowed to fuck up, or can only fuck up in acceptable ways, like engaging in a flirtation with a non Muslim only because they didn't know he wasn't a Muslim, or had booze at home, but it wasn't theirs, etc. I'm hoping that they've made Dani a love interest specifically to explore this idea (and not because they wanted to whitewash a character or give less time to an actor of color).

7) On that note, SKAM Hajar brought up an idea that, because the hijab makes them super visible, hijabi are perceived as ambassadors of Islam, expected to be able to answer any question about Islam, but also that people will judge all Muslims based on whatever mistake they individually make. I would like for a potential bench scene to allow Amira to say that it puts major pressure on her to feel like she can't make any mistake, because every Muslim will be judged based on her making a mistake, having a shitty day, being in a bad mood, not wanting to be Muslim wikipedia that day, etc. That sometimes she just wants to be Amira, not Islam personified.

8) I would like for Dani's character to represent not just white society, but also childhood, the safe choice, the choice her parents would love, and for Sofian's character to represent not just Moroccan culture, but also like... SEXY risk, independence, novelty... Because I feel like when I see Muslim girl/Muslim boy/white guy love triangles in fiction, the Muslim guy is positioned as the boring choice (but still incredibly wrong because he's abusive or maybe even secretly gay and forced to beard by his parents), the safety, the guy you'd bring home to your parents, whereas the white guy represents independence and carving your own path away from your parents.

9) Just once, I would like for a Muslim character to say, "what do you think of Catholic priests abusing kids?" to someone asking them what they think of such-and-such Muslim majority country doing such-and-such to its citizens. Bonus points if it's Sofian's character.

10) I would like for Dilan to get an insta and a storyline. And for that storyline to connect to Amira's.

11) In general, I would prefer that parents be kept to a minimum (not to get rid of them entirely, of course, but to be kept at the level they've been in other Sana seasons). I just have never thought the point of Skam was the parents. And I get why they have a larger presence in a second gen kid, but I, personally, am more interested in what they represent in the main's life, rather than in giving them a lot of face time.

12) And, on that note, if they do with Amira what I've outlined above, I don't think there's a necessity for Amira to have siblings. Particularly if eskam isn't going to continue after this season. I think it'd be far more interesting if Amira's character contained the elements of figuring her identity as a Muslim living in a Western country that Elias, Idriss and Essam had. (And maybe that way Dani is both Yousef and Elias, stealing not just one role for an actor of color, but two! lmao)

13) I really hope that the obligatory evak s4 side plot be kept at a minimum tbh. I'm really not interested in a) Eloy coming back to cause drama, b) Amira's friend causing croana drama because she's Joana ex or whatever, c) a physical fight breaking out because of (perceived) homophobia.

14) I want Amira to tell Cris that amiris es lo más real que hay. 😭 I would love it if, as a parallel to Cris' season, Amira doesn't tell Cris about her interest in Sofian's character at first because she's afraid of her reaction, only for Cris to be supportive of whatever she chooses to do.

15) I would be so fucking happy if eskam adapted the "is your faith stronger than your lust?" scene in this season. I have always wanted to love that scene, because how often do you get a scene where two girls get to talk that long and that much (even in Skam most of the iconic dialogue scenes between just two people aren't between two girls in the squad), but I just haaaated the purpose of the scene in Skam.

16) I would cry buckets if we got a scene like Det Beste fra Islam where Amira and Sofian's character both talk about what Islam means for them. Particularly if Sofian is introduced as not the Perfect Muslim Man, but it turns out he has THOUGHTS about religion.

17) And, finally, I would love for the unquestionable villain of the season to be a white guy. If the villain is going to be a woman, then I would want her to be Cris' mom, not a high school aged character. Not because of white feminism yayyy! but because I think the major issue Sana seasons have run into before is that the showrunners want to touch on white girls being the problem, but they also don't want to villainize white girls. So we have stuff like Sana inviting Sara and Ingrid (of all people!!) to Eid, Imane apologizing to Ingrid (of all people!!), random one clip white women attacking Amira M (and the Kiki/Amira friendship of course), etc. I'd just rather they didn't have girls doing shitty stuff to Amira N, if they're going to go back on it. Which they inevitably would, because eskam's overall message is sisterhood.

Bonus clips

18) I would love it if Skam España was like, "you thought we were dropping storylines left and right? Nope!" and resolved long standing mysteries like who was behind Eva's hate ig, who had the pills, who outed Cris to the school, who's the owner of the keys that were left behind at GSC, and so on. Will die if it turns out to be Ramón!

19) I want Joana to get that job she wanted so bad last season!

20) I would love for Emma to show up and come out as a lesbian, just as a last hurrah lol.

21) I don't feel strongly about which couples should be endgame and not (other than not Dani/Amira hghvvh please), BUT in my most embarrassing fantasies, I want Skam España to hire Alejandro Reina's irl boyfriend to play Lucas' boyfriend for the finale. Not because I can't separate fiction from reality or anything, but because when I thought Lucas would be getting a season, I wanted his boyfriend to be a poc, and I was highkey buttmad that they hired random white bread when they could just as easily have hired a poc.

22) I think it would be really cool if Inés got a clip on her POV, but I don't think we're going to get it. I think all bonus clips will be from the squad's POV, i.e. Eva, Cris, Nora and Viri. Not even Joana.

23) I want a Mallorca special or episode so bad, and I will be so FUCKING ANNOYED if we don't get it. Seriously, I can't imagine the team didn't feel betrayed when they watched Skam for writing purposes, and didn't get their russetide. So they should know how angry we would be if we didn't get even a little bit of Mallorca time.

#ask #skam españa #I am literally unable to be concise it's just not in my blood #long post #comicluke #I used to always say that I wanted them to feature the m-30 mosque in amira's season #and they're doing that!! so yay!

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