#at least this was somewhat expected like she was in the later stages of her cancer but i don't think anyone was thinking it would happen no | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

totowlff · 6 months

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chapter fourteen — even three, four, or five

➝ it's time to cassie and toto discover a little more about their 'little bean'

➝ word count: 3,9k

➝ warnings: mentions of medical procedures, christian horner

➝ author’s note: i know it took us too long, but cassie is finally back, and with news!

14 WEEKS Many moms-to-be begin to feel hungrier, more energetic and less nauseous as early pregnancy symptoms start to subside. Meanwhile, your baby's getting chubbier by the day, and may be starting to sprout some hair.

— Are you nervous? — Toto leaned over to ask Cassie, as they sat in adjoining chairs in the waiting room of the obstetrics clinic — Because I am.

— No, I wasn’t even thinking about it — Cassie said, dryly — I was trying to think of what to make for dinner later.

Toto’s expression turned to confusion as he turned his head to the left a bit to glance at the woman in the chair beside him.

— You can’t be serious…

Cassie sighed.

— Of course I’m nervous, Toto. I’m trying not to be, but… I just keep thinking that something is wrong. I don’t know why. I hope I’m just being paranoid. Plus, I’m kind of hoping we… Find out the sex today.

Cassie put one of her hands on her belly. She was starting to show more clearly — it no longer looked like she had some bad gas or a big lunch. She had opted to start wearing leggings and long shirts to work, because her work trousers and jeans no longer fit. She hadn’t started shopping for maternity clothes, but was a bit hesitant about actually wearing them yet, at least until she disclosed the pregnancy. She hadn’t yet told her colleagues, resolving to do so after the 14th week scan that she and Toto were on their way to.

The pregnancy seemed to be arriving at the stages where Cassie felt undeniably pregnant, and not like she was experiencing a persistent mild flu. The morning sickness had stopped, but instead, Cassie felt ravenously hungry, and was experiencing a strange pain around her hips that her doctor said was apparently an expected symptom. She had started doing some gentle yoga to help relieve the pain, and had discovered the joy of a nightly warm bath.

They’d discussed the sex of their baby when the idea of pregnancy was just something theoretical — something they both wanted and were looking forward to, but not yet reality.

Like most parents, their preference was for a healthy baby, and sex was a secondary matter. Still, it didn’t stop Cassie from daydreaming of a little girl.

She’d never gotten along with boys, for the most part. She had always preferred to play with her sister over her brother, and until university, her brother was the only boy she’d spent a significant amount of time with. She’d gone to an all-girls school growing up and, even in the present day, she had a much better relationship with her sister than her brother. And, though it was anecdotal, she remembered her sister-in-law having a much easier time with her three girls than Helena had with Tommy. He was a sweet boy at age 4, but was somewhat of a terror when he was a baby.

For Toto’s part, he was also hoping for a girl. His sister had three boys that Toto adored — and were very nice when Cassie had met them — but said he could more clearly envision a daughter than a son. Cassie also suspected that Toto was also probably a bit swayed by his mother remarking that she still wanted a granddaughter.

But, if it was their destiny to have a boy, so be it. Cassie just hoped the baby would get Toto’s dimples.

They had scheduled Cassie’s 14-week scan for an afternoon during a week with no races. Toto felt so horrible about being late for Cassie’s first ultrasound that he had his assistant block off his entire day after lunch, and they would be going to Cassie’s flat after the appointment to talk about their preparations for the baby while they had dinner together.

Toto wanted to drive her, but Cassie insisted that they each take their own cars.

— What will people say if they see us leaving the factory together, in your car, and early?

— Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me — Toto said, shrugging. Seeing Cassie's incredulous expression, he continued — Really, it’s not anyone’s business.

But then, Cassie pointed out that driving separately would save them a trip back to the factory after their appointment to pick up her car

Toto left a few minutes ahead of Cassie, but waited for her in the clinic’s car park so that they could go in together. It felt nice, as did being back to an exam room as “Miss Aldersey and Mr. Wolff”. “If only it were Mr. and Mrs. Wolff”, Cassie’s mind supplied, unhelpfully. Cassie followed the now-familiar routine of lowering her pants and hiking up her shirt before her obstetrician, Dr. Reynolds, knocked on the door and walked in.

— Good afternoon, Miss Aldersey, Mr Wolff — she said, giving them each a handshake in greeting. As she washed her hands and prepared the ultrasound equipment, she asked Cassie about the progress of her pregnancy — Any excessive pain, or unusual bleeding?

— No — Cassie said, as the doctor turned off the lights. Cassie, then, felt Toto gently squeeze her hand. He was perched on a stool next to the exam table — Just the pain around my hips and belly that we talked about at my last appointment, but taking a warm bath helps when it gets really bad.

— Good — Dr. Reynolds said, as she started to smear Cassie’s belly with gel — All of those ligaments are starting to stretch and loosen as your body goes through so many changes. Some gentle stretching or yoga is also helpful. Now, let’s hope your baby is cooperative today so we can get some good images.

As the doctor was getting the transducer ready, Cassie caught sight of Toto out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were fixed directly on her belly, his expression inscrutable.

— Something wrong? — Cassie asked.

— No, I just… I hadn’t realized how much you’re, um… Showing, until now — Toto said, quietly. He looked sheepish, and if the light in the room wasn’t so dim, Cassie would swear she could see him blushing — You’ve been wearing those bigger shirts and dresses lately at work, so this is the first time I’ve seen you like this. You look… Beautiful.

He brought the hand he was holding to his lips and gently kissed her fingers, and Cassie could feel herself blushing, but before she could say anything, the doctor had started the scan, and both of them turned their attention to the monitor.

A grainy, pulsing, black-and-white image displayed on the screen as the doctor passed the transducer over Cassie’s belly.

— Okay, let’s see where we are…

The blurring resolved into a definite image, the profile of something that looked like the profile of a baby’s head appearing. Cassie’s breath caught in her throat for a moment, and she thought she felt Toto’s gentle hold on her hand tighten. The last scan she had was too early in her pregnancy for anything to show other than something small, peculiar, and alien-looking, but now…

— It’s our baby — Toto whispered. Cassie smiled and took her eyes off the screen to look up at Toto. He was transfixed, a smile on his face as he watched the baby’s movements. After a moment, his eyes started shining, reflecting the light of the ultrasound screen in the darkness.

Cassie squeezed his hand.

— Are you okay? — she whispered. But even as she asked, she knew exactly what he was feeling, because she felt it, too; the surreal enormity, the hope, the fear, all of it at once. Toto squeezed her hand back, and he glanced back down at Cassie. He tried to hide a sniffle, but it was unsuccessful.

The doctor took some measurements, and explained that, at least at first glance, everything looked to be going as expected.

— Now, you can’t always see it at this point in gestational development, but do you want to know the sex, if we can see it?

Cassie briefly glanced at Toto, each of them seeming to ask the other’s permission.

— Yes, I think we both wanted to find out today, if we can — Cassie said, and Toto nodded.

The doctor moved the transducer to the other side of Cassie’s belly, squinting at the screen once more. Cassie watched, feeling like she should know exactly what she was looking at, but all she saw were more blurry, undulating lines.

— Let’s see… Ah, there we go. Now, again, it’s not always the most accurate at this point, and we’ll confirm when you’re further along, but — Dr. Reynolds said, pointing at something on the console screen. Cassie squinted to see what the doctor was pointing at, apparently seeing something specific in the monochrome mass of pulsating shapes — You can see the two legs here, and if you look at this bit here, you see how it’s parallel to the spine? That means, more than likely, you’ll be having a little girl.

Cassie felt her entire body flood with warmth, and felt Toto squeezing her hand, but after that, things barely registered for a few moments. She hadn’t dared to get her hopes up that her intuition had been correct. She had done some cursory searches online to see how people thought they could tell, and every method described seemed like an old wives’ tale, and that she’d have to try and summon the patience to simply wait.

After a moment, she thought to look at Toto to see what he thought. He’d also mentioned that he would want a girl if he had a choice — but, like Cassie, would simply be content with a healthy, happy baby — and his joy was plain to see in the expression on his face. Many would call Toto a difficult man to read, but Cassie never thought so, particularly when he was happy or excited about something. When he was genuinely happy, it seemed like his smile spread to every part of his face. The subtle dimples in his cheeks would emerge, and his nose would scrunch in a way that Cassie always thought made him look even more handsome.

By the look on Toto’s face as he looked at Cassie, he was overjoyed.

— Toto — Cassie said, feeling her voice starting to waver and her eyes start to fill with tears — We’re having a girl!

Dr. Reynolds smiled as she continued taking the last of the images she needed.

— Congratulations, mum and dad. I am guessing that was what you were hoping for?

Cassie opened her mouth to respond, but Toto got to it sooner.

— Yes, we discussed it a while ago. Of course, we’d be happy with a healthy baby of either sex, but — Toto turned to look down at Cassie again, the expression on his face so tender and happy that it made Cassie’s insides feel like jelly — I think from the start, both of us imagined having a little girl. And I have three nephews, so… The whole family was hoping for a girl.

Whatever Toto was telling the doctor after that point, Cassie wasn’t sure. She felt like she was floating from then on, even as Dr. Reynolds finished up the remainder of the appointment, gave her some instructions, and sent her to schedule her next ultrasound.

As she and Toto left the clinic and walked to where they’d each parked their cars in the parking lot, she felt a strange electric frisson between them, no doubt caused by the way he kept a hand tenderly around her lower back as they walked along the sidewalk outside of the clinic, but she knew that it was just him being nice, playing his role as the good partner-but-not. She felt an almost desperate urge to envelop him in a hug, to reach up and kiss him right there, regardless of who would see, but she shoved it down.

— So, um… Your place, right? — Toto said, as they got to where they’d parked next to each other.

— What? — Cassie said, blinking in surprise.

— I thought we were going to have dinner, and discuss, uh, logistics — Toto said, letting his hand go from Cassie’s lower back as he fumbled in his black cordura briefcase for his car keys.

— Right. Yes, that’s right — Cassie said, shaking her head in an attempt to regain her wits.

— Well, then, I’ll follow you — Toto said, smiling as he unlocked the door to his car and climbed in.

The entire drive back her flat was a blur in Cassie’s mind as it raced between dinner plans and baby plans, and by the time she unlocked the door to her flat and let Toto inside, her mind was a swirling mass of pink onesies, plush bunnies, and what to have with the chicken breasts that she left to thaw in the refrigerator for dinner.

In the end, she found some sweet potatoes in her pantry, and had some asparagus and tomatoes that needed to be used. She implored Toto to relax while she prepared dinner, not being used to having to contend with another person in the kitchen while she cooked, but Toto insisted on helping, so he chopped the vegetables while she set to work seasoning and baking the chicken.

Dinner came together quickly, and as they started eating, Toto was the first to cut through the silence.

— So, a little girl. Have you been thinking of any names, or did you want to wait to decide?

Cassie thought for a moment while she took a drink of water.

— I haven’t given it too much thought, beyond what I told you before, that I didn’t really want to give her a classical name, you know, like my family would want. But it would be nice to give her a name, you know. I’ve just been thinking of it — she hesitated, before correcting herself — Her, I guess, as “the baby”.

— Well — Toto said — I wouldn’t mind giving her a Nordic name, like my family does. That way it would be unique, but not so much that she’s likely to be made fun of in school, or anything.

Cassie giggled.

— You say that like you have experience with that.

Toto rolled his eyes.

— I don’t dislike my name, but Torger isn’t a name that a lot of kids in Vienna come across very regularly. Let’s just say that my nickname was, um… How do you call it… Invented pretty early on in my school days.

— Well, alright. So, what kinds of names does that give us — Cassie said, picking up her phone. She paged through one of the dozens of pastel-colored websites open in her browser tabs that she’d been visiting over the past few weeks, before finding a naming dictionary she had particularly liked looking through — There’s the obvious ones, like Freya, Sif, and Astrid… No, those might have the same problem that your name gave you.

Toto laughed, and Cassie continued.

— Elsa… No, people will just think we named her after that Disney movie… Edda… That sounds kind of, I don’t know, old lady-ish. Erika? No, I went to school with an Erika, I didn’t care for her. Juni is… That’s cute, I guess…

Toto pulled his chair closer to Cassie’s to look at the list of names with her, and Cassie angled the screen so he could get a better look.

— Birgit? — Toto said — That’s a nice name, and not uncommon in Austria.

— Isn’t that what Niki Lauda’s wife is named? — Cassie said, turning her head to look at Toto.

— Yes… And I think it’s a nice name.

— I know, but giving your child the name of someone you know feels odd, don’t you think? Plus, most English people would probably pronounce it incorrectly most of the time. And that leaves out Brigitta and Brigette, too. Asta? That one is nice.

— No, that reminds me of that sparkling wine — Toto said, crinkling his nose a bit — There’s Kirsten, but that one feels almost a bit too ordinary.

— Yes — Cassie sighed — And plus, she’d probably get called Kristen more often than not.

— Oh, what about… Ingrid? — Toto said, pointing at the name on Cassie’s phone screen — That’s a nice name. It’s easy enough in English, it’s a common enough name in German…

Cassie thought for a moment. She had a feeling like something snapped into place, like she had solved a complicated maths problem, or like she’d remembered a word that was on the tip of her tongue.

Almost involuntarily, her hand moved to her belly, cradling the growing swell of her abdomen.

— Ingrid. I like it. Ingrid — she repeated the name, like she was testing it out. She couldn’t help but feel like it was a good fit, that it felt right.

— Ingrid Aldersey-Wolff — Toto said, a distinct note of pride in his voice.

— No… Just Ingrid Wolff — Cassie said, looking down at her belly. Her voice went quiet — It sounds nice, doesn’t it? We’ll need to come up with a middle name, but…

— You really don’t want her to have your surname too? — Toto asked, delicately.

— No. It wouldn’t feel right giving her something that I don’t even want — Cassie said, giving Toto a serious look.

Toto pressed his mouth into a thin line, and nodded slightly.

— Ingrid Wolff.

According to the obstetrician, it was a bit too early in the pregnancy for Cassie to start feeling the baby kicking, but she thought she felt a distinct flutter from her belly. It may have been just her imagination, or something akin to nervous butterflies, but it felt like a sign, like the universe had given her at least one of the answers she was looking for.

— Our little Ingrid — she said, feeling the warmth she’d felt earlier spreading through her body once more.

She and Toto finished eating in a more companionable silence, and Toto cleaned up the dishes once they were finished, at his insistence. After the dishes were in the dishwasher, they sat close together on the couch, scrolling through more parenting websites, discussing whatever came to mind.

— Oh, I forgot to tell you this, but I started this… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s sort of a visual scrapbook of things that you can save — she said, navigating to a website on her laptop. Toto peered over at the screen, his brow furrowing. She knew that Toto wasn’t tuned in to most social media websites, so she kept her explanation brief — But I made it mostly so we can gather ideas for how we want to decorate the nursery. I know it’s probably not, you know, a priority, but…

— No, I want to see. After all, it will be my daughter’s first bedroom.

Cassie almost couldn’t contain her joy at hearing Toto say the words “my daughter”, and given the smile that spread across Toto’s face near-immediately, it wasn’t easy for him, either.

For the next hour, they looked at pictures of nurseries online, saving the things that appealed to them. Both of them were in agreement about not wanting something stereotypically “girly” with everything in shades of pink.

— I like a minimalist look — Toto said — But…

— I know, I’ve seen your office — Cassie quipped.

Toto shot her a knowing glance.

— But all of these gray or beige rooms that are supposed to be neutral, they’re awfully depressing for children, no?

— I know, but that’s what it’s fashion these days, from what I gather. But we don’t have to decide anything right now, we still have — Cassie paused, trying to do the mental calculation from the estimated due date that Dr. Reynolds gave them earlier — About 26 weeks before we have to worry about it.

— I know — Toto said, standing up from Cassie’s sofa — 26 weeks until we meet our daughter. Ingrid. Anyway, I think I should head home. Early day tomorrow, as always. And you should get your rest.

Cassie set her laptop on the coffee table, and stood up with him, following after him as he walked to the front door.

— Yes. Ingrid Wolff. Ingrid… And, like you said, we’ll need to think of a middle name.

— We will. We have 26 weeks — Toto said, carefully slipping his shoes on.

— It will go by quickly though, so I’ve heard — Cassie said, giving Toto a small smile once he stood back up straight.

There was a slight pause before Toto opened his arms, prompting Cassie to step forward into a hug. It was soft and gentle, making Cassie feel the fluttering from deep down in her belly again as Toto pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead before he stepped back slightly.

— Do you mind if I…? — he said, pointing to Cassie’s belly.

— Go ahead — Cassie said, feeling her face flush — She is… Ingrid is… Is your daughter, after all.

It was surreal seeing Toto bend over slightly and mutter something in German with only the words tochter and Ingrid clear to Cassie as he put his hand on the bump, but not in an unpleasant way, quite the contrary.

As Toto said goodbye to her again and Cassie went about her bedtime routine, she realized that it was what made the pregnancy finally feel real, and concrete like nothing before had. Not the initial test results, not telling her sister and mother, not the episodes of morning sickness, not even telling Toto when he got back from Barcelona, but the fact that their daughter had a name, like she was already a person and not a hypothetical, not a “little bean” or the other corny euphemisms that the parenting websites used to refer to a baby while it was still in utero.

The thrill hadn’t dissipated the next morning, either, and with a quick message to Toto to get his — not his approval, but to see if he had any objections — she set out to do something she’d been waiting to do for what felt like ages.

A few hours later, in the marketing team meeting, Victoria, her boss, asked the group if there were any new agenda items to discuss, and Cassie raised her hand.

— I know this isn’t really related to the business, but I have some personal news — she said. She could feel a quaver coming to her voice as she spoke.

— Go ahead — Victoria said, giving her a nod.

— I found out a few weeks ago, but… I’m pregnant.

There was a momentary silence in the room, and Cassie noticed the momentary collective confusion on her colleagues’ faces, until one of her colleagues, Imogen, clapped her hands together and practically squealed with joy.

— Oh, that’s wonderful, Cassie! Congratulations!

What followed seemed to be an avalanche of well-wishes and questions in equal measure.

— When are you due? — one of her other coworkers asked.

— Have you found out the sex yet?

— I didn’t even know you were trying, that’s amazing — another said.

Cassie thought her colleagues looked a bit skeptical, and perhaps it was just her imagination. She certainly didn’t want to reveal the whole truth about the baby and her parentage, not when nobody else on the team knew about it, and her mind automatically slotted onto the story that she’d given her mother and sister a few weeks ago.

— Well, I met this guy named, er, Christian. He works in finance, and we met a few years ago… A friend set us up, and we fell in love… And we’ve both always wanted children, so we decided to start trying for a baby. We just found out yesterday that we’re having a little girl.

— That’s wonderful, Cassie — Victoria said, beaming at her.

— When you said Christian, I was afraid you were going to follow it with ‘Horner’ for a moment — Dan, one of the content writers, said, which prompted a ripple of chuckles around the room, and a scowl from Victoria.

Cassie laughed nervously, knowing that he wasn’t categorically wrong about the father of her baby being a team principal.

— God, could you imagine? — she said, trying to play off her nerves — That would be a nightmare.

#toto wolff #wlffog #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x oc #toto wolff x oc #formula one fanfic #formula one fic #formula 1 x oc #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #etlwlff

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chrisevansdaughter · 2 years

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Can you write one where Big brother! chris putting the baby sister! reader to sleep late at night! please

“Her bubba, his lovebug.”

I could imagine it going something like this…

Paring: Chris x little! Sister reader

Warnings: tantrums, over tired, fluff :)

Summary: y/n usually has a really routined bedtime however one movie night with the family, Chris throws that out of the window slightly.

Usually y/n’s bedtime routine was the same every night because that was what worked and calmed her enough to eventually lull her to sleep. Sleepy time bubble bath, pyjamas, cuddles, a bottle and a story did magic to y/n even when she was adamant that she didn’t need bedtime because she would just say “no, i big girl i no need bedtime.” Everybody knew overtired y/n was a y/n you wanted to avoid bit unfortunately Chris made that mistake tonight and this is how it went.

It was the weekend of Scott’s birthday so all the family was over celebrating, movies were being watched and it was no surprise Disney movies were on the tv mesmerising your little eyes like they always did. You were sat next to Chris as always, slowly he started to feel your weight shift towards him more glancing down at you he could see you fighting sleep wanting to stay up for as long as you could to see Wall-e fall in love with Eva and have a happy ending but alas your brain didn’t want that.

It wanted sleep. But like Chris knows you’d just say what you always say “no, i big girl i no need bedtime.” It always did make everyone laugh that you’d say it sleepily and ironically knock out minutes later.

“Lovebug I think it’s time for bubba to help you get ready for bed hmm.” Chris whispered slightly chuckling at the gone out look you gave him.

“I fine no need - you were cut off by a massive yawn. Bedtime bubba I wanna stay with ‘ou.” Y/n just yawned again still leaning heavily on Chris’ side.

“Hey how about this we go run a bubble bath with your duckies and we can finish watching Wall-e in bubbas room with a bottle, yeah?” He questioned trying to find a way at least to get her somewhat ready for bed still in her routine.

What Chris didn’t expect was her to just start crying over that suggestion, and she just nuzzled closer into Chris for comfort because they were no entering the ‘overtired’ stage of her body clock.

“Shhh shh shh, okay lovey breath let’s go have cuddles and run a bubble bath okay.” Chris proactively mumbles into her ear.

“‘Omise duckies?” Y/n questioned tiredly, even in the midst of her mixed emotions.

“Of course lovebug I promise duckies.” He smiled softly peppering kisses on to her forehead, wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

Once bath time was over, it was safe to say that even though y/n was meant to be relaxing she enjoyed splashing Chris a little too much whilst he was washing her hair.

So they both ended up in new pyjamas, Chris made sure to get y/n’s bottle ready too for when they watched the rest of wall-e instead of him reading a book tonight which happened sometimes if anything it lulled her to sleep quicker.

Padding back up to his room with y/n in one arm attached to his hip with her Elle the elephant in her arm and her bottle in the other, they were going to have a sleepover tonight since Chris wanted to watch the rest of wall-e too because why not.

“Right lovebug bottle time then we can have snuggles and we can finish wall-e okay.” He said whilst gently throwing her on to his bed.

“Mmm-hmm sound ‘ood bubba”. Y/n replied evident that sleep was soon to come rubbing her eyes with Elle’s arm.

After the bottle was finished and snuggles were had, Wall-e playing on the tv that was coming to an end.

Y/n took up residence in chris’ chest every once in a while he’d glance down at his chest to see y/n really fighting sleep now and thankfully he looked this time.

Low and behold, small snores emerge from her slightly parted lips that were slightly smooshed by the way she was laying on her big brother or should we say personal pillow.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he smiled softly at the sight before him not wanting to move since she was finally asleep and showed absolutely no sign of waking up, he slightly picked her up off his chest and just moved her little body so her head was still on his chest, how she always fell asleep seemingly taking comfort in his heart beat.

Chris finally just turned everything off when Wall-e came to an end with the end credits finally rolling, following soon after y/n falling asleep realising how tired he was too. He was relaxed that’s why. He always was with his lovebug.

Her bubba, his lovebug.

Hey loves I hope you enjoy this ask, to the anon who requested it thank you so much for this. Don’t forget to like, reblog and send in more sweet asks :)

Taglist:

@mcuamerica @buckyalpine @buckybarnesandmarvel @lilithneedslove @lilacevans @stuckygirl19 @stuckygirl98 @wndawtch @f10werfae @f0rehead-0f-security @dumb-fawkin-bitch @marvelstarker-mha98 @marvelfanfics1 @marvelcastimagines @reginaphalange2403 @ellerosie2332 @togrowoldinv @kingshitonly

If you guys want to join please just drop me an ask or a message <3

#chrisevansdaughter #chris evans #chris evans daughter #chris evans x reader #fluff #chrisevansdaughter online 💖#chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader fluff #chrisevansdaughter answers #requested by anon #chrisevansdaughter anons #anon <3 #chris evans x little sister! reader #chrisevansdaughter loves 💖❤️#chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans headcanon #chrisevansdaughter asks #chris evans fluff

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sisterkosho · 2 months

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General Headcanons | Nanako Asano

Notes: So as I mentioned before, I’ve been having a bit of Tokyo Revengers brainrot as of late. And after some consideration, I figured I might as well just start letting it all out on here since the fandom still seems to be somewhat active compared to other sites. With that said, I offer you this little headcanon post centering around OC I’m currently working on. She’s still in the early stages of development so everything here is subject to change (and likely will be rewritten later), but for now I kinda just wanted to share the stuff that’s been floating around my brain as I work on her. Enjoy!

Nanako is a delinquent from the Roppongi district known for being particularly close to the Haitani brothers.

She first met the two when she was just 13 after wandering into territory they claimed was theirs. And while she wasn’t affiliated with any gang at the time, she was clearly a delinquent.

As such, the encounter inevitably led to a fight, and although she held her own surprisingly well given the circumstances of a 2 v 1 against boys clearly stronger than she was, she ultimately lost in the end.

However, perhaps because of her impressive skills in combat or her “natural charisma” as he put it, Ran seemed to take a liking to her over the duration of the fight.

Right then and there, he decided that he wanted to keep her around.

He’d have her join them, and nothing was going to change his mind,

This left Nanako… a bit taken aback, to say the least. It was all so sudden, and it sounded more like a demand than an offer. Just who did this kid think he was anyway???

She was fully prepared to tell him off, but once she actually took a moment to consider it… she realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

It may have sounded crazy, but these boys were freakishly strong. So much so that they could easily take over the entire district if they wanted to. In fact, she had no doubt that they would sooner rather than later.

Getting in close with people like that could be the one chance she needed to make it big in the delinquent world, and that… well, that sounded fun.

And considering she did lose a fight against them on their own turf, a part of her felt like it would only be fair to accept. That’s how these kinds of things worked after all.

So from then on, Nanako followed behind them, serving as their right hand. And as expected, it wasn’t long before they had taken over Roppongi.

They became total big shots, and being associated with them gained her quite the reputation amongst delinquents in the area.

After all, the brothers were known for their independence and refusal to be a part of any gang, so for her to have gotten so close to them… she must’ve been something special.

It was thanks to all that that she eventually ended up becoming a part of the S-62 generation on Ran’s recommendation.

A part of her knew that maybe they were going too far by that point, getting involved in things they probably shouldn’t. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Even with the way things had turned out, she was happy. She was having fun. But most importantly, she had people she cared about more than anything in the world.

So when it came down to it, she didn’t care what kind of path she went down. She’d follow them anywhere, no matter what.

From Tenjiku to Bonten, she stood by their side. And never once did she regret a thing.

She was having the time of her life, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world no matter how many hardships they faced. Though really, she felt like she had it made most of the time.

To her, the Haitani brothers are like family.

Rindou is like the little brother she never had.

He started calling her “big sis” as a joke, but it ended up sticking.

She goes drinking with him sometimes and it always ends in shenanigans of some sort.

She always takes the fall so he doesn’t get in trouble.

They’ve played tic tac toe on Ran’s forehead on numerous occasions.

Ran calls her “Nana-chan”.

The two had this sort of unspoken thing going on between them for awhile until Rindou started trying to play matchmaker.

He wasn’t the greatest wingman but somehow it worked out.

In both the Bonten arc and the final timeline, Nanako and Ran ended up married.

In the final timeline, she works as a bartender at the Haitani brothers’ club.

#nanako asano #ran haitani #rindou haitani #nanaran #haitani brothers #tokyo revengers #tr #tokrev #original character #oc #fan character #fc #oc x canon #writing #headcanon #hc

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jackiequick · 1 year

Text

The Second Meet Up

Top Gun Maverick AU <3

Pairing: Jake x Amber

Hangman x OC, Iceman Daughter OC & TGM x OC

Sorry if it’s kinda long <3 Continuation of this fic

The next two day were decently packed with preparation and incoming calls for the higher ups of the Navy. Amber arrived in a creamy white dress, flats and a olive green bomber jacket that was gifted by her uncle Pete Mitchell. Class was set up near the clear view of the planes and the beautiful skies waiting for pilots to arrive.

She waited for the right moment to walk in and introduce herself. Soon enough, the navel aviators that returned to Top Gun for this mission walked in taking seats glancing over at one another. Cyclone and Bates introduce the topic at hand as everyone nodded along as if to say ‘we’re listening sir, keep going.’ Bate walked up to the stage with a grin glancing over at the doorway where Amber stood waiting in the wings.

He began, “As you may all know we are all here for the right reasons and to prove that you made for this mission. We are here to protect and support the future of this country with this mission. Successors of Top Gun, more importantly, Admiral Tom Kazansky chosen many people to watch over this missionary work of ours, however he chosen one to keep an eye on us personally. Some of you already might’ve heard of her. She has read over all your files, helped with handpicking every single one of you standing before me and will be taking care of you. May I introduce you to the young lady herself, Amber Kazansky. Call sign, Skysolo.” She walked in holding a notepad in one hand as her dress flew across with to the stage grinning brightly at everyone.

Amber stood across everyone, seeing the group who would soon be called The Daggers in front of her. Many she haven’t met yet but others she knew personally. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw gently smiled at her, excited to give her a bear hug, haven’t not seen the girl since July last year due to all the delayed missions or busy schedules. However Jake on the other hand was taken back in his seat, seeing the women he met just two days ago standing in front of him, in all her glory.

“Damn she looks like an angel…” He muttered underneath his breath grinning softly at the woman. Hangman knew he had to be on his best behavior around her, to make a good impression at least. He looked over at Bradshaw seeing the excitement on his face wondering if also Rooster had a crush on her too..he didn’t want to be overshadowed around him. Especially not after meeting the young woman first.

She cleared her throat catching everyone’s attention again knowing half of them were curious about the fact that she was here, and who were they also going to be introduced to as well. She smirked, “Good morning! I hope we all had a good day so far, Bates is correct. I will be watching over you, however hopefully you’ll barley even know I’m here unless you hear me laughing. Since I’ve been told beforehand, I laugh somewhat loudly.” Her small jokes caused the group to chuckle and smile feeling a bit at ease. Amber continued chuckling herself, “Good. I hope we can all become friends sooner or later. On to the real point aviators, this mission requires a full hands on couch and someone with a eye for this line of work. And I’ve brought him to you. Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real work experience and has everything your expected to master with the time of your training. His exploits are legendary and he’s considered one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you, may very well be the difference between life or death.”

Amber looked over at Bate with full on pride as they stood next to one around. As they continue to introduce the man of the hour, he walked a crossed the desk that held the students with a small shit eating grin. Each and every single aviator eyes followed him as they walked along the line of the runway.

Bradley’s smile dropped, Coyote and Payback seemed uncomfortable with who it is. Hangman glances over his shoulder as his smiles seems to dropped unable to believe that he throw this man out of the bar last night. “I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign, Maverick.” Bates finished as Pete walked onto the front of the stage. Giving his niece and friend a kind nod mouthing ‘Thank you’. He finally turned to face the class softly smiling, “Good morning!”

After everyone was gone and out of the class, getting ready for their flight against Maverick. Amber stayed walking behind the group wearing her sunglasses and grinned catching up with Bradley. Rooster hugged his old friend and introduced her to Phoenix as the three started talking as they got dressed. Amber left them to finish getting ready as they entered the runaway center with all the planes, when a certain tall blonde man came running up behind her.

He huffed grinning softly, “Well, well, well what do we have here? Miss Kazansky! Or should I say Skysolo?”

She sighed softly smiles turning around to face the man, “Yes Hangman? Not happy to see me?”

“I am happy just wasn’t expecting to see you again. You could’ve mentioned something about it two day ago, you know...?”

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Jake sigh smiling a bit, “Yeah well..I could’ve liked a heads up Skysolo. I don’t always like surprises like this, but I’m glad your here.”

“You can just call me Amber, Mr. Seresin and I’m happy your glad to see me. But I will give you a heads up on Maverick, he flies quick and acts like he’s on a race against time. You just gotta learn to keep up.” She said smiling.

“Alright, I can definitely do that! You will be impressed by my skills.”

“And you will be impressed by Mav’s.” She reach onto her tippy toes as her lips brushed against his cheek, “Good luck Hangman..”

With that, she walked away with a gentle grin leaving Jake biting his lips with a bright smirk touching his cheek, turning on his heels to run off to grab the rest of his flight gear. Later on, Hangman stood next to Coyote waiting for their turn with a loopy smile looking out the window to see Hondo and Amber waiting outside with headset for the aviators to each touchdown and pass the test. Knowing they would fail against Maverick and have to do push ups with runway near the million dollar planes.

Coyote snickered noticing a light pink stain of his wingman’s cheek saying, “Yo Hangman! I didn’t notice you added some blush to your cheek.”

Hangman looked over confused at the moment, sliding over to the mirror seeing the lipstick mark left behind and rubbing it off quickly chuckling warmly, “Let’s just say it was..uh, a gift from our new lady in charge.”

“Kazansky?!” He shouted then looked around seeing out loud he was being.

“Maybe, it was a good luck kiss.” He chuckling playing it off, “She was meant to give you one too but you weren’t around to get it.”

First day with Maverick went as follows, everyone tried to beat him and take a shot but failed due to being too late, unable to listen, acting cocky, arguing with the instructors and or leaving the others behind in the skies. So in result plenty of push ups were done with Hondo and Amber watching as well as counting.

To say Skysolo was somewhat confused and disappointed was a understatement. Even being with Rooster and Hangman for different reasons, but that’s the way it is. She knew the circumstances and challenges that was lead to training with Maverick. Her uncle was tough in the skies and saw potential in all of them, but they don’t listen and or decided not try working as a team.

Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it <3 What did you think about it?

Tags: @eagerforthesky @t-nd-rfoot @mandylove1000 @youlightmeupfinn @raphroseybeanpie @gaminggirlsstuff @topgun-imagines @gcthvile @happilycameron @rooster-84 @msrochelleromanofffelton @starkleila and etc

#hangman fluff #hangman x oc #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #iceman kazansky #top gun maverick au #TGM x OC #top gun maverick oc #iceman daughter #hangman au #hangman angst

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kindheart525 · 5 months

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The patient lounge was abuzz with anticipation, for everypony was about to get a surprise! A “special guest” was scheduled to come in, a motivational speaker. Something to lift their spirits, they were told.

Everypony sat around chattering, wondering who this mysterious guest could be. It was mostly in excitement, they all needed a break from the treatment routine after all. But Triple Threat was less visibly enthused.

“You good?”

Lucky Shot stood over the unicorn, attempting to offer some comfort.

“Yes, of course!”

Triple Threat nodded, somewhat forcing a wider smile. Then it quickly disappeared.

“I’m just not quite sure what to expect, you know? I hope this isn’t one of those ‘just think good thoughts’ speakers. You might have seen them, the corny ones who think you can smile your problems away. Or…somepony who’s going to come in and tell us to eat healthy and exercise like that’s not why we’re here.”

She made a disgusted, even pained grimace thinking about this.

“I don’t think it’ll be like that.”

Lucky sat down next to her.

“I’m sure the staff here know not to hire a speaker that’s going to make our problems worse. The week before you got here they brought in some therapy pets. A bit later they had a stage magician. It’s just fun stuff like that.”

She did her best to reassure her, but as she went quiet it was clear she had many of the same questions.

“Well, I guess we just have to wait and see, right?”

“Attention, everypony!”

One of the nurses chirped out, waving a hoof to quell the chatter.

“Our special guest is here so be sure to give her the respect and attention she deserves!”

TT and Lucky shot each other a glance and rolled their eyes. With this nurse it felt more like a high school assembly than anything.

“She took the train all the way out here to see you all, so give her a round of applause—”

“Come on now, we don’t need all that!”

Even the guest was tired of the formalities as she came in to stop the nurse before her cue.

“I’ve got it from here!”

The nurse was about to protest but decided against it, instead stepping aside for the main event.

“Whoa Nelly!”

Triple Threat was surprised right away at this guest speaker, in a good way. In the back of her mind she was afraid they would be some kind of fitness trainer or model who was just above the “conventionally attractive” weight…somepony who would remind her way too much of her mom. Instead this Whoa Nelly was bigger than her even before she got sick. It was already so refreshing to see!

“Instead of standing here and lecturing you like a boring old teacher, I'd like to sit down with you all, hang out, make some friends.”

The mare looked around at all the seated ponies.

“Any free seats around here? I’m gonna need at least two!”

Triple Threat couldn’t help but chuckle out loud a bit as she scooched over and offered a space between herself and Lucky Shot. A few other patients expressed amusement as well.

She sure didn’t expect jokes like this! She always thought her weight was not a laughing matter, all the jokes she heard about it until now were mean-spirited but this felt different.

“There’s the kind of laughter I like to hear! Not like those high-society mares who thought I was a joke for wanting to buy a princess dress.”

Nelly chuckled drily and shook her head.

“Well, I can be just as much of a princess as Twilight Sparkle! I’ve got way more pounds of princess material on me than she’s ever had. No disrespect to her, of course. But all of this?”

She gestured towards her own body.

“Princess material.”

This time the whole room laughed with her. All of them were dealing with body issues in some way so it was really nice to see some body positivity.

“I didn’t always know that, though. When I was younger I thought my body wasn’t worth a thing. Ponies all around were telling me I could stand to lose some of this chub…well, more than some. I was where I imagine a lot of you are right now—and if you don’t wanna talk about it I don’t blame you. You don’t have to stick around.”

Nelly paused for a moment, allowing anypony the space to leave if they needed to as she started sharing these more vulnerable details. Ponies of all different body types were here and her goal was to help them all feel better about themselves, not worse.

TT almost thought of it. She really didn’t like thinking about her body and she especially didn’t like hearing about it from ponies who didn’t know what it was like, but this mare did know what it was like. Maybe whatever she had to say would help her.

“See, I had eating disorders back in the day too. The doctors didn’t believe it when I was at this size, but it was true. I was in and out of the hospital quite a few times. I’ve sat where you all are right now, gone through the same therapy sessions, eaten the same slimy hospital food. Is it still just as gross?”

She asked to try to lighten the mood a bit, and the patients murmured in affirmation.

“Back in my day everypony who tried to help was like, ‘Nelly, you just have to be more confident! Chin up!’ A lot of them barely had any gut at all, they didn’t have a clue what they were talking about.”

For a moment it felt like Nelly was reading TT’s diary as she said this. It was exactly how she’d experienced it with her own mom. And…a lot of ponies. She thought nopony else could ever understand, but now she was wrong.

“If it were that easy to just be confident we wouldn’t even be here! And of course you can’t do much of anything if you don’t love who you are. You can’t change for the world, you gotta make the world change for you!”

“Huh…?”

What do you mean?

Still feeling a bit more shy than usual, TT thought she was too quiet for Nelly to hear, but the older mare took notice right away.

“A few decades ago I didn’t even have this job. Ponies didn’t want to hear from somepony like me. But I kept telling my story even when they didn’t like it. I was a pain in their little behinds!”

Nelly laughed heartily.

“I said, ‘I’m here, and you better get used to it.’”

She looked around the room at all the patients who were now absolutely captivated.

“But enough about big ol’ me. What do you guys do? What do you wanna be?”

“I’m studying to be a doctor.”

“I’m getting my therapist’s license soon!”

“I want to be a teacher!”

“I’m an athlete.”

Ponies started going around, naming all their aspirations and careers, everything they wanted to be in a world where they wouldn’t be judged and excluded for their size.

Then Nelly turned to Triple Threat, who had been rather quiet until now.

“And what about you?”

Not too long ago, TT wasn’t so sure about her career path. She was ready to give it all up and find something else. But now she was much more confident in her answer.

“I’m hoping to star in a Bridleway show one day!”

And instead of responding with pity like many other ponies TT met before, Nelly smiled even wider.

“You’d better send me tickets when you do!”

And as she went on talking to all the other patients about their aspirations, Triple Threat found herself stuck on what Whoa Nelly said. Everything was still so uncertain for her but now, for once, she felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. That maybe she had more agency than she thought.

One day, somehow, Triple Threat could return to her life’s passion after all. And that was a when, not an if.

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Half-Pity Next: Oh Honey

#KindsArt #auraverse #bridleway #triple threat #whoa nelly #lucky shot #story piece #next generation #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4 #fatphobia mention #eating disorder mention #ed mention

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abronzeagegod · 5 months

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Untitled YA Novel Chapter 11: Miami, City of Confrontation

First Chapter || More

11:28 AM local time

Untouched Horizons, House Dinchdrast, Si Yátz

Justin fully expected Mister Collins and Alt to be furious with him. He almost burned down the cafeteria. And he didn’t save as many people as he thought he should have, if he had only been faster.

Frost had attacked quickly, and whatever he did to Rafe, he did to most of the other zlilfians in the room. He took a dozen or more with him when he fled, now under the thrall of the Silence.

Alt rubbed both sets of eyes with his hands. “Justin, you did very well considering the circumstances,” he said after a moment. “Thank you for your swift actions.”

“I didn’t save anyone really,” Justin mumbled. “I could have been faster, or smarter about starting the smoke.”

Leonard looked down at the tired and distressed young man. “You did very well in a situation you were not prepared for. You thwarted an attack by an enemy we didn’t know was coming, and you stopped the situation from getting much much worse. I’m proud of you.”

“And don’t, for a moment, look at the people you failed to save and blame yourself,” Alt added. “You saved many people today. They could have been taken by the Silence. To each person that was not taken, they think of you as a hero.”

“You did good,” Hira added. “Rafe get away I let her. Again. I touched her, for a second I swore she was free of this control thing. But I was too slow. I lost her again. I failed.”

Alt turned to look at the young zlilfian before him. He spoke to her in their native tongue to keep what he was saying at least somewhat private. “Hira. You did very well. I know you don’t think of yourself as a fighter, but look at how many of our more seasoned shrar fell in battle and were captured by the Silence. You stood and you fought. You did very well.”

“Did I though?”

“Yes. You did. And you say that you almost broke her out of the control? That is extremely important information for us to have.”

Hira could do nothing but nod.

Alt turned back to the group and switched back to English. “We have to analyze everything we’ve learned so far from all the attacks. No details are unimportant. We’ve lost a significant amount of personnel, but we aren’t out of this fight yet. The Silence wants to break us before it moves on to whatever the next stage of its plans are. Because it knows we can stop it.”

For the rest of the day the small team went over their stories, talked about what they knew or saw, and when they exhausted that avenue they moved on to study anything else they could get their hands on.

They worked late into the night.

Eventually, Mike and Justin retired back to Justin’s room, where Mike immediately collapsed on the floor.

There was a knock on the door of Justin and Mike’s shared room.

Mike awoke with a snort and Justin climbed out of his bed before Mike was able to disentangle himself from the sheet knot he found himself in on the floor.

“What?” Justin asked after he opened the door.

Alt stood in the hallway. “We think we found your father. He’s in Miami.”

“What’s a Miami?” asked Mike from the floor, still half asleep.

“Get dressed and refreshed,” Alt said. “I’ll have someone bring the two of you to our briefing room. You have five minutes.”

Justin nodded and went into the small bathroom in his room to splash some water on his face. He was pleasantly surprised to see that he was provided a toothbrush and soap and some other essentials.

Mike finally got off the floor and said that he was gonna go use the bathroom in his room and do the same.

Five minutes later the two were escorted to the airfield where they got in a different, much bigger plane than they arrived in. Alt, Mister Collins, and a few other zlilfians were already there. It looked like some kind of mission control room Justin had seen in movies before. Three large screens sat along the wall and curved slightly to face the two rows of computers that had a few zlilfians sitting at each. Alt paced back and forth between the computers and the giant screens.

The middle screen had a few different images. One was a large, plain white building with lots of windows sitting right on the water. Another had a website with a description of the Oceanic Sciences Institute. The biggest image was a satellite picture, a large scale overhead view of the area.

The screen on the left had a picture of Bradford Frost and all the information known about him. The screen on the right had a picture of Justin’s dad with a lot of information on him posted here as well. It was a strange thing to see a report on his dad.

Justin did a quick scan of the information on his dad, it was stuff that he already knew, for the most part.

He was in his early forties. He was a college professor on ocean sciences, spent parts of the summer in Miami working at the Oceanic Science Institute doing various science things. The computer listed some of his dad’s work experiences and the things that he studied, most of it was deep sea expeditions.

There was a little part highlighted in his dad’s bio that Justin couldn’t help but notice.

“Father to son, Justin, 15. Wife: Penelope Thunderstep (abandoned marriage 14 months ago).”

They even know about that.

Justin felt himself get a little angry, and hot, so he turned to the other screen, the one about the bad guy, Bradford Frost.

He was born in North Carolina, lived there for most of his youth. From the information Justin could see about the man, he seemed to have lost both of his parents at a very young age. He joined the military, the Navy specifically, but he was recruited by the CIA before he managed to make it out of officer training.

He didn’t appear to have a significant other, or serious partner, and the list of his known associates was filled with lots of marks determining that someone had died.

“What a sad life,” Mike muttered.

Before Justin could respond, Hira burst into the room with an armful of papers. Justin was no expert on zlilfian body language, but she looked tired. Her antennas hung low, and her wings didn’t seem as lively. She looked around for a second and then made a direct line for a small table in the corner of the room. Hira then poured herself a big cup of hot chocolate and drank almost the entire thing in one go.

Then she turned around and asked, “What is going on?”

“We’ve been monitoring the Oceanic Sciences Institute in Miami where Justin’s father has an access card. It was just used to get inside,” Alt explained as he stopped pacing to watch the satellite feed. Without moving his gaze, but Justin still felt like he was being watched, asked, “Why does your father have access to this facility?”

“My dad is a professor in Chicago, but during the summer he goes to Miami to do research and studies and stuff. He only teaches in Chicago because that’s where mom was…”

“Oh,” Mike muttered as he just realized something.

“Frost is going after the ship,” Hira said.

Alt stopped and turned to Hira. There was a lengthy, tense, silence as the two zlilfians looked at each other. “You’re sure about this?”

Hira nodded. “He looked up the years around the Home Party failed excursion and then the reaction to the Mayan Collapse in the 100’s. It’s the only explanation.”

Alt said something in his native language that must have been a swear. “Hira, take a seat, put up the relevant dates Frost looked up on screen three for me. Leo, has there been any movement inside the institute?”

“None. But it’s still early. Not even 7am in Miami,” Mister Collins said from his computer nearest to the boys. “It’s about 5am local time,” he whispered to Mike and Justin.

“That’s too early,” Mike whispered back.

“Are we going to Miami?” Justin asked.

“Yes, we are,” Alt said. “I figure it is best to get a hands-on assessment of what is happened and possibly deal with the problem before it really gets started.”

“Any sign of Rafe?” Hira asked hopefully.

“Not that we’ve seen since we’ve been watching. The only thing we have to go off of is Justin’s father’s access card being scanned. We’ve heard nothing else,” Alt said.

“How long till we get there?” Justin asked.

“About 4 hours,” Mister Collins said. “I’d find a place to sit and rest before we land.”

The teenagers didn’t want to sleep, they wanted to stay up and help, but it was extremely early for them, so they didn’t really have much of a choice. Especially Hira, who still had not adjusted her sleep schedule to being awake during the day.

The plane landed in Miami a little under three hours later.

They all awoke upon landing.

“I’m coming with,” Hira told Alt.

“If my dad is there I’m going too,” Justin added.

Mike shrugged and chimed in, “I don’t want to be left behind.”

Alt looked at Mister Collins. “What do you think?”

“We’re short staffed,” Leo said. “The attack took out a lot of our people. We can use them to run ops from the van with me. I could use the extra hands.”

Alt didn’t say anything for a moment. “You can come with. But you’re staying in the van with Leo. Do not engage. Understand?” Alt said, looking at each of the kids in turn.

“Understood,” they all said at mostly the same time. Mike was a little behind on the call and response.

“Let’s pack up,” Alt said. “I want to make it to the OSI as fast as we possibly can.”

The van ride to the Oceanic Sciences Institute was quiet, and it grew tense with every turn and every stoplight. Hira was practically twitching with anxiety. Justin’s foot was tapping rapidly.

As they approached, Leo tried to distract the teens by running over what they were going to do in the van with him and what each piece of equipment did.

“We need to rig up something that sends out like a low tone or a beep at regular intervals so that we can measure if they get hit by the Silence,” Justin said. “And maybe some kind of warning light to let them know if we can hear it and communicate.”

“I knew I should have learned Morse code,” Mike said quietly to himself. Justin couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“That’s a great idea,” Leo said, “and if you think you can do it, get to work.”

“I’m more of a practical builder and my coding isn’t very good,” Justin said as he started going through all the equipment that he had at his disposal within the van.

“And useless I am,” Hira responded. “The qualification to be on field duty was stripped from me.”

“You’re more qualified to be here than I am,” Mike said. “I’m just here because Just is my best friend and I want to help. And right now I can help by holding stuff or moving things or doing what they tell me to do.”

“Hand me that screwdriver,” Justin said, not really listening to the conversation.

Mike grabbed the item and handed it over. “Helping,” he said to Hira. “Even if it’s small, it’s better to be doing.”

Hira nodded. Mike was right. Better to be doing, even if it is small. She went to Leo and asked him to show her what he needed help with so when the operation began she wouldn’t be super useless.

The van parked a few blocks away from the institute. Watching the zlilfians prepare for an operation was very interesting to the humans in the van. They wore very little armor, unlike human SWAT teams, that at least Mike had assumed they were going to be. The only thing that they did wear was some kind of flexible but not very heavy leather that Justin had to assume was some kind of bulletproof armor. Then he realized it was because they were going to fly and they couldn’t take much added weight.

The squad paired off and helped each other suit up. They buckled up their armor, making sure to put it over their wings. They then attached weapons to each other’s forearms. Some had things that extended short wooden batons that they could fight in close quarters with. The others were things that Justin understood with a quick study to be a short range taser or something similar. Their loadouts seemed to be very non-lethal which made Justin feel much better.

There were only four available zlilfians to go on this mission after the attack on the Untouched Horizons base. And it looked like Alt was going with them.

Justin handed over the little radio kit thing that he had tinkered with. “It should let out a low tone every couple of seconds so that way you can tell if you run into a Silence aura at any point. And it’s paired with a radio we have so we can have the same information as you about where the field may be.”

Alt took it and nodded. “Thank you, excellent work.”

“You almost ready to go?” Leo asked. “Standard distraction?”

Alt nodded. “Maybe do something a bit more subtle than your usual flare.”

“What’s the usual fare?” Mike asked.

“He usually starts a fire and then pulls the fire alarm,” Alt said. Then suddenly realizing he was talking to teens added, “Don’t follow his example.”

“It works,” Leo said. “I’ll do something else. Give me three minutes and then head in. You three get back in the van and start monitoring the coms. Hira, I want you coordinating directly with Alt. Justin, you’re doing support. Mike, you watch the police scanner.”

Mike saluted at Leo and the three of them moved back into the ops van.

Within three minutes Mike started to what several reports from the police dispatcher asking for police and fire units to report to the area around where they were.

He got on the radio and said, “Uh, there are units responding to a couple of 911 calls. Something about an elderly man in danger. I think they’re saying he’s scaling a building. That can’t be right.”

“You better move out now,” Leo said over the radio. “I’m playing senile and climb a very rickety fire escape. You’ve got a brief window.”

“I said subtle,” Alt responded wearily.

“A subtle distraction is an oxymoron,” Leo pointed out.

“We’re going in,” Alt said, ignoring Leo entirely.

i have a kofi

find me on pillowfort

#my fiction #untitled ya novel #i think hira goes through it the most in this book #aside from rafe of course

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theshepcollective · 11 months

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Harper Shepard

Harper belongs to @yanara126. Thank you for submitting!! I’m very happy to have her on the blog :)

Backstory - Spacer.

Background - War Hero.

Class - Infiltrator (she develops weak biotics after being rebuilt by Cerberus).

Alignment - Paragon.

Lover(s) - Had a relationship with Liara during the first game, but later fell in love with Tali.

Best Friend(s) - She could never choose between her children.

Harper is the daughter of Hannah Shepard and Viola Hackett (Admiral Hackett’s daughter), and so lived much of her life on spaceships. Due to her mothers’ different stations she often had to choose between them, not seeing the other for several months or sometimes weeks. These long and frequent separations eventually cause her mothers’ to drift apart. They eventually peacefully divorced when Harper was 17 and had moved in with her grandparents for a year to finish her education on earth. She still has a good relationship to both her mothers and her still living grandfather, though of course chain of command can make it a bit awkward at times.

Her hobby is music in general and the harp and violin in specific. She’d always been drawn to intruments plays quite a few of them at least on a basic level but eventually settled on, much to her mothers’ amusement, the harp and later the violin. She briefly considered a career as a stage musician but quickly decided to follow her family’s footsteps.

Harper is naturally somewhat melancholic, not helped by trauma that just keeps piling up for her. She is calm, collected and a natural leader and diplomat though she is perfectly capable of agression if she thinks it appropriate. This is paticularily relevant when interacting with krogans, since krogan diplomacy does often involve some degree of violence. She has certainly headbutted a few of them. Due to both her personality and what happened on Elysium she finds it difficult to surrender responsibility to someone else, preferring instead to be personally involved in pretty much everything, for better or worse. She is compassionate and friendly but does expect a degree a of discipline from her crew. That said, she is not above jokes, and eventually got a water spritz bottle specifically for the purpose of using it on Garrus when he said or did something she considered stupid (like suggesting killing hostages, we do not do that here, Garrus). She called it a pedagogical tool. Overtime it became and in joke with Garrus and the whole crew, and Garrus would repeated try and fail to steal the bottle from her. She values her crewmates deeply, makes it a point to have a friendly relationship with all of them, often becoming much more than just a superior to them (or employee in some cases).

She developed a relationship with Liara during the first game. She doesn’t tend to look very far into the future, always very acutely aware of her own mortality sometimes to an obsessive degree, but had life proceeded somewhat normally and had Liara eventually asked to settle down she wouldn’t have said no. When she met Liara again after dying and being revived by Cerberus she was initially overjoyed but soon noticed that Liara was simply emotionally unavailable at that point. It hurt her quite a bit, but at that point she had already started to process that it had been two years for everyone else and she couldn’t really blame her. Assuming that Liara had started a relationship with Feron in the meantime, she vowed to help her save her new boyfriend and move on from their prior relationship.

Now, Tali had developed a bit of a hero crush on Harper during the first game, which she very slowly painfully overcame when she grieved her over the two years prior. Nonetheless, the chemistry remained and though Tali once again found herself drawn to Harper, albeit in a more mature and less heroworshipping way. The two grew closer over the course of the Collector mission and eventually got into a relationship, which lasts even past the war with the reapers. (@yanara126 has quite a few headcanons for what they do after the games, but that is a behemoth for another post).

#femshep #paragon #spacer #infiltrator #shali #Harper Shepard #fshali

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dreaming-for-an-escape · 2 years

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Floating On Air (Cole’s POV) blurb

*Important to know!*

This blurb takes place a few days after Gwen and Richie’s father Wentworth passed away. So it’s before Gwen reunites with the adult Losers a few months later.

Warning: There is smut in this blurb. Not really explicit but it is there. So don’t read if you are underage. Seriously go away. There is also angst, as to be expected.

There’s an Easter egg in the blurb that you might miss from another story of mine. See if you can find it ;)

Cole Foster was almost positive he would never meet another woman as enthralling as Gwen Tozier. He didn’t know the exact moment when he started to think this way, hell maybe he thought this way since the moment he laid eyes on her.

Gwen appeared in Cole’s life at the age of twenty-two, when at the last second he decided to get some late night coffee. That’s where he heard Gwen sing for the first time. Cole was used to seeing people perform at coffee shops and all over the UC Berkeley campus but the moment he heard her voice he was done for.

Cole was determined to know the beautiful woman who was up on stage singing so melancholic. Much to his luck he did get to talk to her, and he did get to know her. Although it was more physical than emotional. As it turned out Gwen Tozier wasn’t so emotionally open with him, just as he wasn’t so open with others.

For Cole that was fine, at the beginning. They both were in their twenties, young and not looking for anything too serious. Gwen and him were more focused on starting their careers. So the casual hookups here and there simply had to do. But somewhere along the way things changed, at least for Cole. What they had was more than no strings attached.

Unlike before when Gwen would leave after every sexual encounter they had, she now sometimes would sleepover. She’d cuddle with him, shower together in the morning, and even eat breakfast. Cole knew for a fact Gwen never did that with any of the other guys she hooked up with, only him.

Gwen and him started going on real dates where they would have actual conversations. He even taught her how to defend herself after a crazy fan went after her. Then later on, the most unexpected thing happened. Cole introduced her to his family, and Gwen eventually did the same with her own.

All of that was truly nice, except Cole wasn’t a fool. He knew about Gwen’s drinking, and how emotionally distant she can be…even with her own family.

Gwen wasn’t perfect by any means, but neither was he. No one in the world was fuckin’ perfect. Anyone who claimed to be was a liar. The truth was some people had more shit to deal with in their life than others, and Gwen was one of them.

Despite not knowing the full extent of what Gwen had been through, Cole had a feeling it must have been serious because of the scar he’d seen on her right shoulder. He never got the full story, just that she got it sometime during her childhood.

That’s why Cole didn’t judge her the way others did.

Even when she was at her lowest, Cole thought Gwen was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. According to her brother Richie, Cole was one of the few people who’d see Gwen at her most vulnerable.

Cole had seen Gwen cry, and not just cry, but really cry. He’d also seen her when she was angry, cursing at paparazzi and flipping them. Even after years of being ‘together’, Gwen expected him to leave for good after seeing her like that.

Cole hadn’t. He acknowledged that Gwen had a lot of issues but they weren’t enough to make him run off. He wanted to stay and help her. Maybe it was the so-called hero complex his father would give him shit for, but something within Cole made him stay.

He’d remind himself just as he’d seen Gwen at her lowest, so had she with him. He wished after all these years that she’d finally open up to him the way he gradually did. Cole had told Gwen so much about his life.

She was very much aware of the strained relationship Cole had with his father. In a way it was somewhat similar to the complicated relationship Gwen had with her mother, which he learned more about from Richie than from her.

Gwen listened when Cole needed to vent, and often comforted Cole in the best way she could whenever his emotional side slipped through the cracks. She’d seen him cry, something not a lot of people could say they have.

Gwen had been there for him on his bad days. Today, however, happened to be a bad day for Gwen according to the phone call they had earlier. And she had every reason to feel terrible. It had only been a few days since her father Wentworth passed away.

So when Cole heard loud knocking from his front door, he wasn’t the least bit surprised that Gwen kissed him the second he let her in. Cole eagerly kissed her back, only breaking apart when they reached his bedroom.

It was then Cole composed himself enough to ask what was wrong knowing she often got like this when something was bothering her. As expected Gwen answered by saying she didn’t want to talk, that she instead wanted to feel something.

After asking her if she was sure, and getting a yes from her, Cole returned to eagerly kissing her.

Clothes were taken off, thrown carelessly around Cole’s bedroom. He laid her on his bed, their bodies lost between his sheets.

Sex with Gwen was phenomenal, always had been. Cole remembered their first time having sex perfectly. It was on their third date. Gwen had finished a performance at the coffee shop she sang at. Cole went to see her perform, wanting to take her out to eat afterwards. However plans changed the moment she fell into his arms, kissing the air out of him.

Gwen had so much left over energy buzzing within her because of her performance. Cole was surprised they even made it back to his apartment because of how frenzy they’d been in his car.

Cole liked that Gwen wasn’t shy when it came to sex. She knew exactly what she wanted, and went for it. He let her take control when she wanted, happy to do so. Like tonight. After the first round he let Gwen take charge, with her on top, straddling him as he leaned against the headboard.

The second time wasn’t as fast and hard but it was just as intense. Her movements were languid but deep enough that Cole closed his eyes from the pleasure. He laid his face against her breasts, groans escaping him.

Cole did his best to hold on, not wanting to finish first. He was worried he wasn’t going to last because of how wonderful Gwen felt. After all the times they’d been intimate she still felt incredible. The sound of her moans were weakening his determination. Thankfully Gwen started to go faster, harder like before and she came with her hands in his dark blond hair, keeping his face onto her breasts.

Hearing her moan so loudly, knowing she finished, was all Cole needed to finally let go. He opened his eyes the exact moment he emptied himself inside her. He breathed heavily against Gwen, feeling her run her fingers through his hair. He hummed. She continued to do this until Cole found the strength to look at her. Sex with Gwen always made him a bit lightheaded afterwards.

His mind was still working though, and so were his eyes. Cole thought she looked absolutely mesmerizing with her dewy complexion, and tousled hair. Her cheeks were so rosy she looked as if she’d ran a mile instead of just fucking him. It was enough to make him say something without thinking it thoroughly.

Cole licked his bottom lip. “Gwen.” His green eyes were soft as they stared up at her seemingly blissed out face. “I….” He was still trying to get his breathing steady after everything they’d just done.

Gwen quickly shut him by pressing her lips to his. It was like she knew what he was trying to say, and she desperately didn’t want to have that conversation after the mindblowing sex they had just.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Gwen whispered, pulling away. She hastily got off him, trying to ignore how empty she felt now.

Cole ran a hand through his disheveled hair, watching her pick up his disregarded shirt. She put it on as she entered his bathroom. He huffed when she shut the door. He knew what Gwen was doing. She was using sex as a distraction. Cole couldn’t be angry even if he wanted to because he was no stranger when it came to replacing his troubles with the feeling of euphoria instead.

It was a solution but not a permanent one.

Whatever aching feelings that were buried always came back. Hence the repetition of their carnal activities. He wasn’t naive to think Gwen went only to him whenever she was looking for a distraction. There were other men she went to, like there were other women he went to.

What Gwen didn’t know was that for a while now Cole hadn’t been seeing other women. Just Gwen. She still thought he was out there having his fill.

And perhaps it was better she thought this way. Commitment freaked Gwen out, enough to make her end things. She’d done so with the other guys she’d been with, at least with the ones he knew about.

She didn’t really like talking about her flings or any past relationships. Not that she had many according to what she did tell him. Cole didn’t know the names of her exes except for one, and it wasn’t a full name. Cole only knew the guy’s first name. Steve.

After all this time, Gwen was still so closed off with him.

They were in their forties and not getting any younger. Cole was at the age where he was finally ready to settle down and have that apple pie family life. When he was younger he never wanted that sort of life. He saw his own parents' marriage end horribly. Why would he ever want a life like that?

But as it turned out he wasn’t so much against the idea of marriage after all. Just because his parents' marriage was terrible doesn’t mean his own would be. He thought the main reason why his parents' marriage didn’t work out was because they married young and fell out of love with each other.

That certainly wouldn’t be the case for Gwen and him. They weren’t careless nineteen years old, they were in their forties. Cole could see himself married to Gwen, living in a house, with children if she wanted. Even with all her flaws and his own, Cole thought it was possible. The possibility of any of that stuffing happening was fragile, and he was an idiot with what he almost said to her. He needed to wait to say it despite how impatient he was.

His little fantasy was interrupted by the sound of Gwen’s cellphone vibrating. Cole looked over at his nightstand and saw the screen picture of the person who was calling her. It was her brother Richie, smiling as he held a plate of spaghetti from inside the restaurant The Old Spaghetti Factory.

Cole was never one to answer another person’s cellphone. Over the years though Gwen and him had become used to answering each others cellphones if they saw it was someone they both knew who was calling.

Richie happened to fall under that category. Except Cole thought it would be incredibly awkward to answer Richie’s call after having sex with his sister. So he did right by letting Richie’s call go to voicemail. He shuddered to think if he answered.

There was probably a good reason why Richie was calling so late. It more than likely had to do with the passing of their father Wentworth. Richie was being a concerned brother.

That wasn’t a shock to Cole. In fact it was to be expected. Richie was a comedian, on and off the stage. So being a jokester was a guarantee but not when it came to his family, especially his sister. Cole recalled the way Richie threatened him with a joke if he ever hurt Gwen. It was amusing as it was impressive. Cole really came to admire Richie for that.

So that’s why when Gwen exited the bathroom, Cole immediately told her about the missed phone call.

“Your brother was calling you right now.”

Cole didn’t miss the way her dark brown eyes widened a bit. Her eyes flickered to where her cellphone was. She fidgeted with the shirt she wore. Since it was Cole’s it was big on her, reaching the top of her thighs. “Oh.” She didn’t move to reach for the cellphone. Instead she got under the covers. “I’ll call him later.”

Gwen only stared at him as he gently pushed aside the hair that fell on her face. “I think he’s calling to see if you’re okay about…you know.” Cole was being supportive while trying not to push too much. He couldn’t help that his helpful side was trying to take over. That’s who he was. He helped people everyday because of his career as a cop.

Cole wanted to help Gwen, had for a long time now. “Gwen…” He tried again.

Gwen caught his hand that was caressing her face. “Can you just hold me?” She asked, voice low, practically shaking from the emotion. “Please.”

All it took for Cole to agree was to see her shining dark brown eyes. Those eyes were so easy to give into. He felt disappointed that she decided to turn away from him. Cole wanted to hold her face to his chest but he felt better when she nestled closer to him after wrapping his arms from behind her.

So when Gwen began to cry, body trembling, Cole just held her tighter. He wanted to say so much more but knowing Gwen comforting words wouldn’t do at the moment.

Besides what Cole really wanted to tell Gwen wouldn’t help at all.

He’d tell her he was in love with her when the time was right and she felt better.

If ever she ever does get better.

Cole quickly pushed aside that nasty thought. He silently held on to Gwen as she continued to cry.

#floating on air #gwen tozier #cole foster #it chapter two #floating on air blurb #oc #angst #so much angst #and here's the smut I wrote #an asexual writing smut who would've thought huh

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hollowwhisperings · 1 year

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Benjen Nightwatch Theory #3 (crack)

Benjen joined the Night's Watch because he lost a bet (to Lyanna).

the bet was drunkenly made with Lyanna the first time the two dared to get thoroughly sloshed, after Ned left [/abandoned them] to be fostered by Jon Arryn in the Vale.

The stage is set thusly: Ned's away, Father Stark has left Brandon in charge & Brandon, responsible big brother that he is, cackled instead of saving his siblings from themselves.

the siblings, still miffed at Ned (& their Lord Father Rickard) for "ditching them for Southroners", had started making increasingly nonsensical jokes at Ned's expense: "Ned's so serious he'll make all the Southron girls cry just looking at him", "Ned's so cautious, he'll spend half his fostering slowly climbing his way up the mountain and the other half coming down!", "Ned's so stubborn, he'll get stuck in one of those silly Southron collars and poke his head out from it like a daisy instead of cutting himself out!"

(the jokes are also increasingly derogatory to all things "Southron", nevermind that the Vale is much nearer to The North than any other kingdom & is even somewhat adjacent)

just before Lyanna and Benjen pass out from their "revelry" (and wakefulness post-bedtime), Lyanna slurs out, "Ned's so dull, I'll be full with some git's child before he manages to tell a girl he finds her pretty!"

Benjen, still somewhat idolizing of their younger-big brother &/or incredulous at the idea of Lyanna reproducing, refutes his sister with "nah-uh! Ned's not that stupid! He'll get himself dutifully betrothed and dutifully wed before you, Lyanna, and he'll dutifully tell his silly Southron wife she's pretty because it's his husbandly duty! And if he doesn't, I'll join the Night's Watch!"

at this point, both siblings begin giggling furiously about the word "duty" and Brandon "dutifully" drags the younger Starklings to their respective rooms so as to "sleep off" their silliness... and be "dutifully" awakened by their big brother Brandon with buckets of ice water.

years later, still far earlier than Benjen truly expected, Benjen is the lone Stark in Winterfell and welcomes the Lady Catelyn (& the heir-encumbent) to her castle.

at her admittedly meager welcome feast (Benjen had panicked and left the arrangements to Maester Luwin, unsure on what "southron girls" considered seemly & assuming Luwin DID know), Catelyn recounts her wedding day to her brother-in-law. It sounds an equally gloomy affair -

"wait, Lady Catelyn - di Ned, uh, Lord Stark speak with you AT ALL that day? Other than the vows, I mean"

"Well, no-"

"He at least made time to tell his lovely bride that she was, er, lovely... right?"

Catelyn politely evades answering by smiling and "complimenting" Benjen's tastes in decoration (it had been Luwin's and he'd just told the servans to "make it look welcoming"... resulting jn more rugs and furs and candles from the much diminished staff available).

Benjen does not swear aloud but he does recall That One Bet with Lyanna. It's a fond moment of their family before everything turned to horse droppings.

Canon ensues.

Once Ned & "his bastard" are returned safely to Winterfell, Benjen again remembers his bet with Lyanna. Brandon had played "witness" to the event and their Lord Father had chided the younger Starklings thoroughly upon his return home (Brandon having freely volunteered this rulebreaking rather than leave the hungover tweens to suffer quietly).

Benjen relates the drunken bet to Ned and Pointedly Raises An Eyebrow in the direction of the nursery. Ned pales but Benjen shakes his head - he won't tell anyone. He won't slander his own sister nor risk all that remains of her.

Benjen does feel listless without his siblings and, after Ned unconventionally sets up statues for Lyanna & Brandon in the crypts... he asks Ned if he's "told Catelyn she's pretty yet".

Ned blushes and mumbles that he's planning to build a sept for her.

"But have you told the girl - er, lady - you fancy that you find her lovely?"

Ned goes pinker before, very slightly, nodding. He seems to be making an effort to hide in his (own finally properly full) beard.

Benjen sighs and jokes - "Well, guess the only thing left now is me joining the Night's Watch. Can't go breaking a promise with Lya' and Brandon."

Ned, almost triggered into a flashback, replies with "Can't be having that, not at all."

Benjen writes to Castle Black that week: Ned and Benjen keep their respective promises to Lya' quiet, outside the crypts, and part sadly but with an Understanding. Promises are important to Starks, after all.

#ohno it became angst #crack asoiaf theories #valyrianscrolls #benjen stark #stark sibling feels

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fifteenleads · 2 years

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play with life

Despite the past couple years of relative disuse, Richard hasn't really forgotten how to use his stage voice.

It was pretty much a given for everyone in the company, considering the semi-regular online performances they still held together over the prolonged lockdown period. The sight of a live audience, however, gives him unease once more, as if all those years spent getting over his stage nerves seemingly have gone to waste.

Inhale, exhale. This is still less formidable than a single camera and the looming silence of his own flat. He could get through this.

Anne gently squeezes his bicep, an encouraging smile on her lips. She really does look different in costume, as opposed to the more androgynous way she usually dresses outside of work. He'd almost snorted in laughter when she declared it her late-onset rebellious phase, but they both knew it meant more to her than that.

"Break a leg," she says affectionately, a little more to herself than to him, as she fiddles with the tight collar of her dress. Anne's own nervousness oddly calmed him down, for some reason.

The beginners call for Act Two sounds shortly after, and Richard disengages himself, heart quietly beating in time with his measured steps up the stage. "Thank you. See you later."

Richard's life before he discovered stage acting was a terrible mess, to say the least.

The mismatched eyes he easily hid with uneven bangs. The way his chest and hips grew wrong in high school, corrected with an entire wardrobe overhaul that cost his childhood savings and then some. The way everyone else treated him like a circus freak show despite all his efforts to conform, however, left him damaged beyond repair.

So he decided to shove all that back into their faces, risky behaviors, university honors and all. Best to just do whatever the hell he wanted if no one even cared anyway. It was both a downward and upward spiral, as he sank deeper and deeper into despair he did not feel as he empowered himself more and more with bravado he did not have.

Then Catesby dragged him along one time to see some play's opening night. Said it was moral support for a mutual friend in the ensemble, but the pointed look he gave Richard as he emphasized his words clearly meant something else.

That night, Richard didn't drink himself to sleep for the first time in years.

The first few days after that confused him greatly. The next weeks brought a nagging feeling that disturbed him endlessly as his nightmares changed to something that scared him most - beginning hope.

Did he still want peace of mind, even after all this time?

The day Richard's extreme frustration with himself came to a head, he tore off the first open call he found in the classified ads and showed up to the audition armed with nothing but genuine earnestness and a desire to turn his life around somewhat.

Reality ensued, as expected, but he walked away from his first failure in years with some realizations and a dreamless sleep that left him the most recharged he could remember after an inner exhaustion he didn't know he felt for so long.

For the next few months he studied the art of theatre with an unbridled passion he hadn't felt since his childhood. It was an entirely different journey with its own set of difficulties, but the notion of finally, properly expressing himself as he was - ideas and triumphs and defeats and emotions all worn on his sleeve - made him strive harder than ever.

Richard was finally rewarded after many months, a major role to his name and proper recognition and love from everyone else. By then, none of all that even mattered anymore, he realized with a clear mind and a content smile as he finally, finally, finally slept well for the first time in forever.

After two hundred twenty-eight minutes of telling the story of a tragic king, the curtain falls over a triumphant company to the sounds of orchestral music and fervent applause.

Richard's bare hands are warm despite the frigid air conditioning of the theatre, even as they are clasped in Anne's and Edward's gloved ones. It is their first production after two years, and the people clearly missed live entertainment after many months of streaming and gaming and whatever it is they busied themselves with to keep their minds off the despair lockdown brought.

Edward quickly pulls Richard close in an enthusiastic hug, ignoring the dirty looks Anne is giving him. "Man, you look more and more beautiful each day! My character's feelings for you might just transcend the stage one of these days, eh?"

"Your character clearly didn't learn his lesson, then," Richard deadpans, but good-naturedly returns the hug anyway. "I must warn you, though, not being able to break character is scarier than you might think."

"Yeah, I remember that," Edward agrees, ruffling Richard's hair reassuringly. "Sucked that that happened on your birthday back then. It was the first thing you taught me when I told you I wanted to be an actor."

To this, Richard smiles proudly at his friend, amazed at how far the boy had come since the day he shyly asked for an autograph from behind his mother two years ago, to a confident new actor now on his first role on a major stage production. Clearly, Edward has taken that lesson to heart, resolving there and then to be a great actor while never losing himself as a person.

Even now, those words bring Richard to tears as he remembers them fondly, the same way he looks back on how far he himself has come since. "I'm glad to hear it. Keep up the good work."

Those words were more for himself, really, but Edward doesn't need to know that.

For now, they celebrate tonight, themselves, and each other.

Tomorrow's a new day after that.

#requiem of the rose king #baraou no souretsu #richard iii #character study #after the curtain falls #modern AU #actor AU #oneshot

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talenlee · 27 days

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Story Pile: Hazbin Hotel

sigh

so I like this a lot I guess.

It wasn’t like I approached Hazbin Hotel expecting to find a thing I loved. It was something a friend was interested in and I watched it with them because I love them to pieces and it seemed interesting enough. I wasn’t expecting to really enjoy myself so much – in fact my predominant thoughts about Hazbin Hotel prior to that was that it was media made for someone younger than me with a reference pool shallower than mine, an Edgy Cartoon made by someone who bootstrapped their way into heading up an animation studio. Quite frankly, the story to me of how Hazbin Hotel happened was so much more interesting than anything Hazbin Hotel was offering me!

Here’s your line though! This is your Spoiler Warning for a series that’s got hidden information in it (though doesn’t every story), and your Content Warning for a series that’s pretty heavy on cartoon sex references, drug references, and over-the-top violence. It’s pretty funny in terms of what kind of show it is in that okay, aside from more f-bombs than you’d assume and more c-bombs than I’d ever expect, but other than that I don’t feel like it does a lot with its higher rating. Still:

Parental neglect

Drug addiction

Alcohol addiction

Gambling addiction

Sex work

A friendly local neighbourhood serial killer

Hazbin Hotel is a very stealable animated series from Amazon’s animation studio that started its life as a series of speedpaints of weirdo OCs from an artist who then bootstrapped that fanbase into a patreon then that patreon into a kickstarter then that kickstarter into a pilot then that pilot into a pair of series that seems to have legs enough for two or three seasons. One of them, Helluva Boss, I’ll probably talk about at some point in the future because…

I mean, I probably will, but we’re talking about Hazbin Hotel here because Hazbin Hotel is something that got under my skin real fast.

I debated not talking about it in April, in Talen Month, because I after all, have two anime on the roster. I absolutely think that there’s room to call Hazbin Hotel an anime, based on its common visual language and rules it uses for how it presents expressive character language. After all, at the very least, it’s being made by at least one non-white person who probably isn’t being paid as much as she deserves.

Jokes aside, though, Hazbin Hotel is a musical Christian horror animated series set in an American Hell and follows the narrative of Charlee Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer as she starts up a project for the redemption of damned souls in Hell. The plan is to take people into her Hotel, show them a way to change their life through emotional support, therapy, and trust, and then, stage two question mark question mark question mark, stage three, they go to heaven, redeemed. It follows Charlee as she grapples with the feasibility of her plan — ie, is it possible for a soul in Hell to change — and then the other feasibility of her plan — ie, will Heaven let a soul leave Hell?

And there are songs!

This is a character-driven series. You have to care about the characters to follow them, and I think that all the characters presented have distinct motivations, worldviews, and voices. That last part is a big part of getting into Hazbin Hotel for me because it looks as a series like it was made to suit a particular aesthetic, unified with a colour palette and – I mean, characters almost universally have the same mouth. People – not just the ones in hell – have the big jaggy teeth, and when a bunch of characters share a trait like that it can create a flattening feeling.

I find the characters really different – in fact, somewhat to their detriment, see later! The Hotel has a bunch of characters who are present for their own reasons. It’s fun, too, because narratively, there’s an excuse for why the characters are where they are: It’s a hotel for losers trying to escape Hell, you could have had almost all the cast come for that same central reason and differentiate them for other reasons. In Hazbin Hotel, the cast don’t have that as their motivation – there’s nobody in the cast for as straightforward a reason as ‘I want to do what this Hotel is supposed to do.’

Charlee is there because she believes in the mission, as a way to help people in Hell. Vaggie is there because she believes in her girlfriend. Angel Dust is there to mooch; he sees it as convenient. Husk is there because he’s ordered to. Mimzy is there because she’s been given it as a responsibility. Sir Pentious is there because of a scam. Each of these choices gets transformed through the alchemy of the series into being sincere believers in the mission of the Hotel, and Alastor-

Oh yes.

Alastor.

Phew.

Alastor is a special case. There’s a lot going on with him that I like, from his Old Timey radio voice affect (complete with distortion effect on the track!), to his Arch Serial Killer With Rules vibes, his ‘effortless’ coolness that only works because of how much effort he puts into it, his deeply pagan iconography, his ambitious boiling seething at his limitations, and of course, most importantly of all, how much of a petty shit he is.

Alastor is probably my favourite character if you ignore various image searches for Angel Dust. I like Alastor so much that I’m reasonably confident I’m going to be peeling off things that reference him from his character and imbuing them into other OCs for a few years, like someone making every part of an orange work for a bunch of different meals and even planting the seeds. Alastor is made up of so many, coherently held together things that are my jam that I understand the kind of people who look at a character in media and say ‘it me’ unironically.

And he’s wrong.

One of the things Alastor does in the story, to me, is present the role of the Powerhouse. The Powerhouse isn’t the most important character, they’re not the one going through the most character development. They’re not the one who the story needs to turn to for important emotional responses or themes, because he’s the one who’s there to show up when the story needs power that can be brought to bear on saving or mopping up something someone else did. I love powerhouses, they’re one of my favourite archetypes; let other people take the centre stage, let their choices be the ones that matter, and I will cheer for the one who shows up to save and protect those choices. I have so much fun with Powerhouses, whether they’re the disappointed fixer or the beloved first follower. Alastor is Charlee’s Powerhouse. He’s convinced that when the time comes to fight Adam, he’s going to be able to step up to and meet that and beat it, because he can.

And he’s wrong.

It would be one thing if Alastor could do it! That’d be cool too! It wouldn’t be a bad thing to do. But it’s another thing if all of Alastor’s posing and pushing for power with characters like Lucifer and Adam was based on a very reasonable assumption about his power and the power of his opponents. Because it’s possible to have reasonable assumptions and just not have those assumptions be correct. Alastor carries himself like he’s the scariest man in the world, and he really is for most people who deal with him. It’d be enough for him to merely be amazing.

And he’s wrong.

It’s that wrongness that brings with it the little dash of complexity Hazbin Hotel needed to really excite me. Compexity is how it takes a story set up to make perfectly good, standard interfaces between ideas like ‘what is good and evil’ and ‘how can you live in hell without getting used to hell’ and then take just the slightly less-than-obvious next step in the answers. It involves looking at characters in this fantastic situation and considering them not as inhuman entities shriven of identity, but rather monstrous versions of human entities, with human needs and wants and ideals, and for there to be ways those wants and needs become amplified through the shedding of an idea of hope.

I like how it’s a musical, in that context! It’s full of characters who do something weird and inhuman (sing their feelings in contextually warped fantasy spaces), and then uses that to present very real, very deep truths about who they are, even including things they wouldn’t – or shouldn’t! – say without the song propelling them along.

The songs aren’t all electro-swing numbers, though enough are that I felt pleasantly served. I like electro swing! I like powerful Disney numbers! I like diegetic non-diegetic music! I also like the ways they use the songs for jokes! Multiple songs are interrupted and the interruptions are part of the story! And the complexity of the characters plays out in the songs! Like how Alastor invades a song to be petty, or the moment when Angel Dust realises he’s not going to be ridiculed for joining in a song.

Something I like about song in this genre is when they can stand on their own – when they begin or end cleanly and aren’t interrupted by dialogue from the narrative per se. Like, when the song’s job is part of the story, and the story is not needing to fight the song for its place. The biggest sin of the songs in Hazbin Hotel to me is that a few of them could afford to be longer and more varied – which is to say, hey, I like this, and would like more of it.

I describe it as a Christian Horror series depicting an American Hell. It’s a Heaven and Hell situation in the image of current modern mainstream American Christianity, which is to say, it doesn’t make much sense as presented. Hell in the Bible is not represented as a place with cities and culture, it’s barely presented at all – you get more of a ‘outer darkness’ or ‘neverending burning’ kind of vibe than ‘a city where people can keep doing things that are inappropriate.’

Look also to who gets damned to Hell and why. The complaint about Angel is that he’s a crack whore who burned his original chance. We don’t know what Angel’s life before Hell was like, but his life in Hell appears to be largely pretty harmless; he does drugs, he makes porn. That is to say, he does two things that only negatively affect himself. This doesn’t make sense as an inherent sin or anything but that’s okay because this world doesn’t seem to be one that has any idea about what makes anyone deserve anything; people in hell are present because they are present in hell, and that’s used to tautologically justify their presence there. But people in Hell can love and form bonds and elevate one another and be kind and even have kids –

Unless the kids in hell are there because they died as sinful children, which is okay, that could be what’s happening too.

There’s this book, Only Begotten Daughter, by Jame Murrow. In that book, god has a daughter, with a dude, working at a sperm bank, and she goes on an adventure through various elements of divine life that the Bible presents but doesn’t properly explore. In that book she winds up going to heaven – briefly – and finds to her surprise there are like, four people there; Moses, Jesus, Enoch and Elisha. When she quizzes them about this the response is ‘well, yeah, almost nobody gets into Heaven, it’s just not possible, with all the rules that conflict with one another.’

It’s that kind of heaven that Hazbin Hotel is built around, and it comes with it to show an idea of divine hiddenness. The problem of divine hiddenness is of the seeming contradiction in the idea of a God that exists, is omnipotent and omnisicent, and wants people to believe in him but there are people who sincerely want to and aren’t convinced by what has been presented to them as evidence. How does that work? In Hazbin Hotel, god, as much as they may or may not exist, appears to be abscent. People don’t even talk about them – they refer to powers around them, but no individual who can sort things out.

This god is missing, somehow, in a way that nobody talks about.

All this appeal isn’t to try and imply that Hazbin Hotel is immune to criticism. To laundry list it all that I have problems with is kinda unnecessary, but just off the top of my head, there’s a certain way the story allocates indulgences to specific characters. Any and all sex jokes are going to go through Angel Dust, which means they are going to come across as gay, rather than necessarily bi or pan. The result that seems to come from that is that Vaggie and Charlee despite being girlfriends from day 1 and sleeping in the same bed, seem kinda sexless, because all the Sex Stuff happens through Angel Dust.

In the same vein, this vision of Hell talks about ‘bad things’ but keeps those bad things in a very specific vein, like murder and being a participant in some things. Pornography isn’t bad! Liking your phone isn’t bad! The way that the story seems to position these as demonically empowered things on part with, uh, cannibalism, is a little strange, and it feels muddied.

Character design has some samey traits; the lack of noses and the commonality of jagged-tooth mouths mean that some characters can look similar, and worse, make it so that when a character uses that kind of expression it doesn’t necessarily evoke anything but ‘that is a mouth.’ The Vees are set up to be villains for later, but it feels like since one is a rapist and the others are uh, assholes, that maybe there’s going to be a problem keeping those characters in a reasonable space compared to one another.

It also feels like it can run the risk of getting bogged down in lore. I don’t want to watch a 27 minute explainer video on why Lillith must be the demon to whom Alastor is bound. Just – you know, just let the story do what it’s doing and wait until it’s done before you try and dive into the metaphysics of a multiverse, please.

I like Hazbin Hotel. I don’t think I’m supposed to, I’m a very uncool not-even-a-goth. But I like it, and I want to see more of it. And when I have seen more of it, I want to be able to say that I liked what it wound up doing with the character of god.

Which is a pretty tall order, huh?

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Hazbin Hotel #Media #Story Pile

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gargrizzled · 6 months

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⭐️ idk if you’re still doing this

Hi, thank you for this! I honestly consider myself open to any ask games I reblog anytime, so you're good!

I've been considering what section to choose because there's a lot I could talk about, but since Chapter 4 is one of my personal favorites I'd like to go more in depth with that!

!Spoilers for Chapter 4 of Blood Brothers!

The chapter title, It's the Nighttime That Flatters, are lyrics from the song Self Control by Laura Branigan.

Songs are the theme of the chapter titles in BB, either because they fit at least somewhat lyrically or to set the vibe I'm going for. This fits in both categories! I find it has a chill party vibe, which pairs with the purpose of the chapter: Gangrel introducing E&C to the nightlife to escape the stress they're under. A lot of the lyrics fit as well, including but not limited to:

You take my self, you take my self control

I, I live among the creatures of the night

I know the night is not as it would seem

Which leads us to the underlying mysteries of the chapter. One of the first things Christian notices as they enter The Empire is this:

(Side note: Christian's disturbed reaction gains later importance in Chapter 5!)

Weird that these are there right? Perhaps they're leftovers from the time the club was actually an apartment complex, as Gangrel had explained to the brothers. Or maybe - they're hints to a more sinister truth that E&C are none the wiser to yet.

The Empire has a bar, club, stage - and also a bunch of apartments that seem open for just about anyone to fulfill whatever sinful whims they have. Edge uses this to his advantage when he seeks out a quick hook up to indulge his sleazy, Rated R side. This takes a strange turn when the woman abruptly leaves, seemingly startled by something that happened in the room, and Edge feeling oddly drained. Even more questions go unanswered when he returns to Gangrel, who seems angry at something he sees on Edge's neck.

Stark chill in the room? Objects suddenly moving? Symptoms of anemia with a mark on your neck? 🤔

And it sure is a shame the moment pieces of this puzzle could've fallen into place comes when E&C will be too drunk to remember:

You know... without a little paranormal intervention... do you think Edge's one night stand could've ended with him getting to know the ghosts of the Empire in a closer way than anyone would want? Did that mysterious woman see something from the past she did not expect??

And what did Gangrel do to correct her mistake?

Other small tidbits to end on a lighter note!

The neon signs have a reference to the Quentin Tarantino vampire film of course, and a vampiric twist on the fun "Don't do coke in the bathroom"

The name of the club is based on a picture of the Brood in a section of a WWF magazine, "A Goth Night on the Town", where "Empire" is seen cut-off on a neon sign behind them.

Helen the bartender is an original character made on the fly, and may not so subtly be from the 1920s - 40s based on her mid-atlantic accent and slang such as "juice" and "bushwa". It also seems she's close friends with Gangrel. Maybe they go back?

#fic: Blood Brothers #VS BS

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namuneulbo · 2 years

Text

week forty

we practiced for the concert all day on monday and tuesday.

on tuesday i got some haikyuu stickers from r from the arts department. i offered to buy her a coffee as a thank u so we planned to go sometime within the rest of the week.

wednesday! concert day! we started at 1 pm and the concert started at 8. s wore a really pretty outfit and i was so flustered when i saw her lol i dont remember which day this was but we also played piano together. we played merry-go-round of life, i did right hand and she did left. i was gay panicking so hard. i think im getting a crush on her. shes so pretty w her red underdye and her nails that r always prettily done and her cute little habits and her cute obsession w coffee and sleep. i feel like dressing up and looking pretty at school for her.

concert went alright. i think i couldve sung better but i at least felt somewhat comfortable on stage since it was the second to last song and i sang it together w l. after the concert the teachers treated us w a bunch of snacks. me and l did the bare minimum to road everything. we r the singer stereotype.

thursday! after school i went grocery shopping and picked up some take-out on my way home so i could get some food in my system before my dad came and picked me up. i drove to a city nearby to go look at makeup for halloween. i ended up finding a good lipstick for less than 3€. i still have a mark from swatching the different colors on my hand. i found one in the perfect shade but it was maybelline so i ended up not getting it bc we do not like animal testing ! after shopping we went to my dads girlfriends place. i like his girlfriend, shes really nice. her place was small but nice, it looked really cool and it had like three floors.

i had earlier that day received the black thigh highs i ordered but i didnt have time to try them on until the evening. i received the wrong pair, i ordered patent ones but got matte ones. the shop was nice enough to give me the shoes for free and now im just waiting for my actual shoes to arrive. i like the matte ones too so i dont mind having them too lol

on friday i just had a bass lesson at 11. i really like bass. its a lot of fun and i definitely wanna get my own bass at some point. i went out for the coffee w r in the afternoon. it was more awkward than i expected and it made me kind of lose the remaining respect i had for her heh she only talked abt how her friends angry w her and then dropped the r slur. she just,,, brought my mood down a lot.

later around 5 pm i went back to school to play bass. its so fun, im obsessed!

on saturday i chilled the entire day and then in the evening i went to my brothers place w my dad. we had some drinks and i had like three and a half long drinks and i threw up once i got home. my dad was dogsitting his girlfriends dog so he was w us and omg was he being annoying. i love him but omg does he crave attention.

while at my brothers place we almost had a little game. i gave him a broad genre, like jazz or punk, and he showed me his fav artists within that genre. even if i didnt really care for the music or whatever it was still quite interesting seeing all the different talented musicians and my brother knows sm abt everything so i learnt a lot. my mom picked me up after i tried throwing up for a bit. my brother gave me a glass of water and i shugged that before leaving. ended up throwing up on the street outside our house and then threw up for a bit in the bathroom. i still felt a bit sick and just forced myself to sleep asap. i didnt get a hangover but i did feel weird in my stomach like one tends to do after throwing up lol.

today ive just played sims and watched lineup and smosh lol i started talking to this girl on badoo and shes so smooth and she calls me so many pet names im going to combust (i genuinely accidentally typed ‘cumbust’ and that wouldnt be too far off either). she literally talks like kaeya.

okay i gtg !!!!!!!!

sotw: the realist by onf

#diary #tumblr diary #namuneulbo

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Pretty Young Thing

A yandere Erasermic commission for an anon, I hope you like it bby!!

Aizawa Shouta x reader x Hizashi Yamada

TW non-con, breeding kink, pregnancy, surrogacy, pregnant sex, smut, age-gap, nsfw

“Don’t you think she’s a little young, ‘Zashi?”

“It’s up to you both how involved you are during the first stages and the overall pregnancy. Normally we suggest an initial meeting with the potential surrogate for all three of you to get a feel for one another and decide if you want to proceed with the arrangement, but should you wish, we can–”

“No,” he interrupts, sparing Hizashi a fleeting glance. “We want to meet her.”

Beneath the desk, his husband squeezes his hand.

Hizashi quirks an eyebrow, pausing midway through fixing his hair in the mirror. “Whaddya mean, babe? She’s in her twenties ain’t she?”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the issue. They picked you, they both picked you, but there’s this lingering unease that he can’t seem to shake. It’s not so much your age specifically, he knows that you’re only a few years younger than the majority of the other women whose profiles they’d seen – you’re old enough to understand what you’re getting yourself into and agree to it, at any rate – it’s just that he doesn’t quite understand why somebody your age would want to do this.

And there’s something different about you, it’s just a feeling of course – he hasn’t yet had a chance to confirm his suspicions, but he wants to meet you and decide for himself.

“We do have a number of potential surrogates with promising Quirks if you’re considering pursuing that option for your child,” the Doctor told them, smiling as they flipped through page after page of profiles.

Hisako, 35, Quirk: Sun-flare

Nozumi, 26, Quirk: Mimic

Koharu, 28, Quirk: Seismic Wave

Chiyoko, 33, Quirk: Golden Whip

Yuzuki, 32, Quirk: Silencer

There’s dozens of them – which is more than he expected.

Aizawa knew coming in that this wasn’t normally the process, that this agency catered specifically to Heroes – was recommended by the Hero commission – but it still feels strange, just browsing through pages upon pages of potential candidates to carry their baby.

Was he supposed to be feeling some kind of emotion looking at these profiles? The women were all healthy, each of them attractive, in their own ways (nothing but the very best, the Doctor had reassured them with a smile). This woman, whoever they picked, she’d be carrying their baby, yes, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t going to be a part of their lives beyond that, so what did it matter if she was nice or liked to cook or play tennis?

There were stats, of course. Their education and IQ’s and little snippets of history, but they were all impressive, otherwise they wouldn’t have been included. Were they supposed to choose based on their Quirk? One that might compliment his or Zashi’s? Quirks were troublesome things to begin with, and–

“Wait-wait, Shou, hold up,” Hizashi’s voice cut through his musings, long fingers wrapping around his wrist midway through turning the page. “Go back one.”

He does as he’s told, flicking the page back.

Y/N, 23, Quirk: N/A.

A lone eyebrow lifts. Quirkless, huh? A blank slate.

But that’s not what caught Hizashi’s eye.

“She’s kinda cute, don’tcha think, baby?”

It feels weirdly like a first date, nervous jitters and all – though he’d like to believe he’s better at suppressing that now then back when he was a teenager. Aizawa hasn’t bothered to shave, but his hair’s tied back in a loose bun and he’s pulled out a suit for the occasion – he’s even wearing a tie for fuck’s sake. Beside him, Hizashi’s ditched his usual leather jacket and ripped jeans for, well, nicer jeans and a button up floral shirt.

And then there’s you. Standing in the doorway of the cafe glancing around like a little lost lamb, he recognises you instantly from the picture on your profile, but the moment your eyes meet his he’s struck with the realisation that the picture didn’t truly do you justice.

Because you do look young (at least compared to their thirty odd years) and it might just be the hesitant smile adorning your face as you start to make your way over, or the charming little summer dress falling to your mid-thigh, swishing hypnotically with every step, but Shouta feels something catch in his chest the more he stares. You really are… what was the word ‘Zashi had used? Cute?

Yeah. You were cute.

The agency had offered to host this little meetup at their clinic, and while he hadn’t particularly cared one way or the other, Hizashi’d been insistent. He’d wanted this to feel ‘natural’.

‘I don’t really wanna meet our potential baby mama for the first time in some boring, sterile office, d’you?”

He’d only bitten back a sigh at the time, shaking his head. It wouldn’t have been worth upsetting him by reminding him that the girl was technically a glorified incubator. He had every intention of being involved in this process, but this initial meeting was to establish two things. Firstly, that after meeting them, you still felt comfortable with carrying their baby, and secondly, he wanted to make absolutely certain that you weren’t trying to get anything out of this.

Oh, he knew you were getting paid, handsomely, he’s sure, but the thought that you, or any of the women the agency had fobbed their way might not all be in this for altruistic reasons had crossed his mind.

You were just so young.

But he was more than happy to determine those two things in a ten minute meeting at the agency.

Hizashi was not, and so here they are.

Ten minutes in, and he finds himself glad of his husband’s insistence. Hands wrapped around your mug of coffee (you should enjoy it while you can) you chatter away with Hizashi, beaming and blushing, tripping over your own words in your nervousness.

You’re about as dangerous as a kitten, and he allows himself to relax enough in his seat to enjoy watching the blonde charm you.

“So why don’t ya tell us a little about yourself, songbird?”

“There’s really not all that much to tell,” you say with a sheepish laugh, but they listen as you talk anyway. It’s nothing the profile hadn’t already told them, nothing spectacular that would make you stand out in the crowd.

And yet, an hour and a half later, you’re trying in vain to distract him and Hizashi both so that you can slip your card in with the bill to pay for lunch, and Shouta finds himself oddly amused.

There were other candidates – ones with impressive Quirks, smarter than you, more accomplished than you, older than you–

“Ya sure you don’t want a lift, sweetheart? It’s no trouble.”

You smile again, demure little thing, and shake your head. “Oh no, really it’s okay. It’s not far and… I like the walk. Thank you, though.”

– but none nearly so endearing, he thinks.

And when they watch you disappear into the crowd, one final wave thrown over your shoulder, Hizashi’s fingers lace with his once more.

“So she’s our baby mama, huh?

He’s silent for a moment. “I suppose so.”

—

The agency recommended, at least in the initial stages before the implantation procedure took place, that any communication between the three of you should go through them.

Hizashi had your number programmed into his phone before you’d even left the cafe, and he’s been texting you every day since – to the point where it wasn’t unusual for Shouta to come downstairs and find Mic chuckling to himself, fingers dancing across the keyboard on his phone as he replies to whatever message you’ve sent.

Shouta, for his part, tends to message only to check in.

How are you feeling? Any side effects from the meds?

Your response comes a little slower than usual, and it’s almost an hour before finally he receives it.

Sorry they’re cracking down on us using our phones at work :(

Everything’s good so far! The doc said i should be on track for our appointment next week!

… is it weird that I’m a little excited haha?

His brow furrows at that. You hadn’t mentioned a job – at least not to him, he’d have to ask Hizashi later whether you'd said anything to him.

Why on earth were you still working? He’d seen the contracts, he knew exactly how much you were getting paid for this little venture, wasn’t that enough to support you?

He makes a brief mental note to make sure that whatever job you were working at, you stopped long before the baby was due. You might just be a surrogate, but he’d be damned if his baby was put in jeopardy because you were needlessly exerting yourself.

Nevertheless, his expression softens somewhat as he reads the second part of your message. You were excited, hm?

Well, that made three of you.

Both he and Hizashi’d been willing to come along to the clinic with you – he’d even submitted a formal leave request to take the day off from UA, but the Doctor had assured him that it wasn’t necessary.

“The procedure is quick and relatively painless. She’ll be home within a few hours, and so long as she remains off her feet and doesn’t undertake any strenuous activity, she will be perfectly fine.”

It hadn’t sat particularly well with Hizashi who’d spent the afternoon huffing and complaining about the clinic trying to kick them both out of the process. That much, he expected – he understood it to an extent; the agency catered specifically to Heroes, most of their clientele probably had busy schedules (which was true in their case as well). There wasn’t a need for them to be present at such a minor procedure, even if it did hopefully mark the beginnings of your pregnancy.

What he hadn’t expected was the twinge of discontent he felt settle in his own stomach. The Doc might’ve preferred they stay out of this, but at the end of the day he really didn’t give a shit what she or the agency wanted.

So he messaged you.

Do you want us there with you?

He watches those three little dots bounce for almost a solid minute before finally your reply comes through.

No, it’s okay, you don’t have to come. The Doc said it wouldn’t take long and I don’t wanna be a burden for you guys

It’s not really an answer to his question, and he briefly wonders if Hizashi might be right about the agency interfering, but he’s not going to fight you on it.

At least, that’s his plan until Principal Nezu pulls him aside at the end of a staff meeting and tells him that he’s found somebody to cover his classes tomorrow if he still wants the day off.

“Ya gotta go, babe. One of us should be there for our ‘lil mama.”

He asks you what time your appointment is and there’s a surprisingly pleasant fluttering in his stomach when you walk through the clinic doors and catch sight of him sitting in the waiting room.

It’s a momentary surprise – you almost do a double take, but a smile lights your face and you ignore the receptionist in favour of racing towards him.

“Shouta, I thought you weren’t coming!” Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing tightly.

He finds himself returning your hug – albeit somewhat stiffly – but he’s glad he made the decision to come. The Doctor wasn’t wrong, you’re only in with her for just under twenty minutes, and when you come out there’s a tremble in your legs, but you seem otherwise fine.

It goes without saying that he’s driving you home, though you try once again to beg him off.

Kitten, when are you gonna learn that so long as you’re carrying his and ‘Zashi’s child, they’re going to go out of their way to make things easier for you – whether you want them to or not.

Yet your quiet discomfort on the drive home doesn’t slip past his attention. Maybe it’s because he’s become accustomed to your nervous rambling, but there’s something odd about the way you’re sitting so quietly, fingers twisting in your lap as you stare out the window. He knows that if Hizashi was here, he’d be chatting your ear off, but he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary small talk.

Though he can’t exactly help the way his own mind drifts. Are you in pain? The Doc didn’t say anything about there being any pain, only that you should rest over the next few days, so it shouldn’t be that. Perhaps you’re just lost in your thoughts – it’s strange for them having a surrogate, he can only imagine what’s going through your own head now that it’s actually begun. He hopes that you aren’t having second thoughts, almost opens his mouth to ask before thinking better of it.

You’re entitled to your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, and if you wanted to talk to him about them, you would.

It’s not until the scenery outside starts to change and the fancy sky-scrapers give way to dingy apartment blocks and dilapidated buildings, crammed in together too tightly that he realises that it’s not discomfort that’s written across your face, but embarrassment.

This was your neighbourhood?

Shouta recognises it, and really he should have picked up on it earlier when you’d given him the address – he’s spent more than a few nights patrolling the area. It’s a hotspot, not for the high-class, dangerous villains plastered across the news every night, but thieves and murderers. Petty thugs who prey on the weak, those addicted, with nowhere else to go… you live here?

Surely with the money you’re getting from the agency, and your job on top of that, you can afford a better neighbourhood.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, watches as you all but shrink into your seat, and when you speak, your voice is little more than a whisper.

“You can just drop me off at the corner here.”

He pulls the car to a stop by the curb, and for a moment neither of you speak. He doesn’t know what to say, and judging from the way you’re nibbling on your bottom lip and glancing up at him, you don’t either.

“I–”

“Thank you,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “For coming today, and for… this. I-I really do appreciate it.”

The words aren’t quite sincere, but he only nods – noting the miniscule sigh that escapes your lips at the action. “Of course. Anytime you need us, just call, okay.” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “Do as the Doc said, rest.”

You all but scamper from the car after saying another goodbye, though Shouta waits until you’ve disappeared into the crumbling apartment block before driving off.

Maybe the inside is nicer, but he sincerely doubts it.

—

“You should’ve seen it, ‘Zashi.” The two of them are curled up on the love-seat, half empty containers of takeout littering the coffee table in front of them. “I just can’t figure out why she’d be living somewhere like that.”

The blonde frowns. He’d been messaging you throughout the afternoon, so he knew that the appointment had gone fine. It wasn’t that he expected to come home and find the erasure Hero jumping for joy, but the subtle discontent on Shouta’s face had been enough to make him pause.

“You’re worried about our ‘lil songbird?” he asks, pushing away just enough so that he could turn to study his face.

The short nod says plenty. Of course he is – even if you weren’t potentially carrying his child, you’re young, beautiful and far too innocent for your own good. In places like that, you were easy pickings, and you don’t even have a Quirk to protect yourself. His job requires him to assess his students’ strengths, their failings and weaknesses and their progress. He doesn’t need to see you in action to know that you wouldn’t be able to hold your own in a fight.

It bothers him.

“She’s not safe there.”

Hizashi hums, but instead of settling back against his husband’s side, he straightens up further. “Well, why don’t we go take a look-see, huh handsome? Make sure our sweet thing’s pad’s all safe ‘n sound, put your mind at ease. Whaddya say?”

As he stares into those imploring green eyes, Shouta knows that he should say no.

Concerned or not, there’s still a line, privacy that should be respected. He’s tired and this is the only night that they both have off this week. Your place is almost twenty minutes from theirs, and it’s already late – almost midnight. The list goes on, there are a thousand reasons that he should say no.

“Fine. Just for tonight.”

—

Two weeks later, the two Heroes receive a call from the agency; the blood test came back positive – you’re pregnant.

In the blink of an eye, at least to Shouta, this becomes startlingly real. You’re pregnant. They’re going to have a baby. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter… You’re pregnant, and as his husband ends the call and yanks him by his collar into a fierce kiss, he realises how important this is.

How important you are, just by the virtue of carrying their baby.

They invite you over for dinner to celebrate, and while he’s never been one to flaunt the comfortable lifestyle he and Hizashi have, he does find it strangely pleasing to watch you wonder wide eyed through their apartment. He’d be the first to admit it’s big – bigger than they’d ever probably need, though with the baby on the way maybe they’ll finally be able to make use of all that extra space.

Mic grabs you by the hand, eagerly dragging you towards the nursery he’s already begun setting up. “Once I heard the good news, I just couldn’t wait to get started! Our little rockstar’s gonna have the sweetest crib, don’tcha think? Ain’t it amazing?”

He’s already started painting and there’s a wooden cot halfway assembled and the beginnings of a musical mobile pushed off to the side waiting for him to return to it. It’s hardly close to being finished, but you just grin, gazing at the mural he’s started on the walls. “It’s amazing,” you say.

“I knew ya’d like it!” he beams.

Shouta hangs back as Hizashi guides you through the rest of the apartment, chattering excitedly away. He likes seeing his husband happy, and somehow you manage to bring it out of him without even trying. It’s still early days but Shouta has to admit that already you’re more to him and Hizashi than he expected, or even anticipated. You fit well with them, seamlessly, as if you’d always been a part of their lives.

After dinner, they drive you home despite your protests, and Hizashi insists they walk you up to your apartment. You’re no doubt under the impression that they’re doing it to be gentlemanly, missing the shared looks between the two men as they pass the out of order elevator and tread down hallways with stained carpet and peeling wallpaper, ignoring the leering yellow eyes of your neighbour, peeking out from the crack in the doorway as they bid you goodnight, ‘Zashi squeezing you extra tight.

There’s an uncharacteristic hardness in his husband’s eyes as they both slip back into the car, “No way in hell are we lettin’ her stay here.”

On that at least, there’s no arguments from him.

—

Hizashi, unsurprisingly, is the one to bring it up.

The three of you are grabbing a bite to eat after your first ultrasound. This time, both of them had been insistent on being there, and he’s glad they were. Seeing that grainy image of their baby, hearing it’s heartbeat – strong and steady – had filled him with an emotion he’d never felt before.

It was happiness and excitement and wonder and awe all mixed up and wrapped into a gut punch that stole his breath away, and while Hizashi had burst into a loud fit of tears, burying his face in Shouta’s neck while reaching for your hand, he’d managed to keep his own at bay.

Mostly.

Regardless, you have little choice but to indulge them when they drag you out to one of the blonde’s favourite restaurants – on the proviso that they had you home in time to get ready for work.

“Songbird, there’s something the two of us have been meanin’ to ask ya.”

You perk up a little, hastily swallowing down your mouthful of food so you can reply, “Oh?”

He wonders if you notice the way your hand already instinctively drifts to your stomach, your barely there baby bump.

“Why’re ya livin’ in a place like that, sweetheart?” You freeze, the corners of your smile slipping, but Hizashi continues, “Ain’t the money from the agency enough? We know you’re working that other job as well… we just…”

Shouta can physically feel you tensing like a bunny caught in a trap, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out, sliding a hand across the table as you pale, but you take it regardless.

“Talk to us. Please,” he begs. “We just want to understand what’s going on. You have to realise that it’s not exactly a safe neighbourhood, and it’s not just you we have to worry about anymore.” Dark eyes flicker pointedly towards your stomach.

It’s a dirty tactic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. Did you realise how much danger you were truly in? Not just from the common street thugs – though frankly he thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get this far unscathed – but any number of villains with a grudge against either one of them, or Heroes in general. If they found out a pretty, quirkless thing like you was carrying their baby, how long do you think it would take before they tracked you down and kicked through your door?

Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you swallow shakily. “I-it’s…” you break off, taking a deep, steadying breath, “It’s all I can afford right now.”

“But, hun, what about–”

“I know,” you say. “The money for the surrogacy isn’t for me. It’s money I owe.”

Neither Hero speaks a word as you talk, telling them about your uncle, the man who raised you, how his business went under a few years back and you both lost almost everything.

Shouta isn’t surprised to find out that your uncle turned to loan sharks when the banks turned him away and threatened to take your house. Alarmed at the man’s blatant stupidity, yes, but not surprised. Your eyes start to water when you tell them about how he died a few months back – a hit and run – and the visit you were paid only a week later, informing you that your uncle’s debts were now yours, and payment had better come through quick.

Your hand’s trembling in his by the time you finish. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t have any options, I didn’t know how else to get the money, and they said that i-if I didn’t pay up, they-they’d–” a sob catches you unawares, and once again it’s Hizashi who’s out of his seat and at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the booth beside you, pulling you into a one armed embrace.

It’s his eyes that you meet, and Shouta understands. He doesn’t need you to explain what threats were made. You were scared, terrified probably, and you had every right to be.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Really, he should be furious. Disappointed at the very least.

“Move in with us,” he says instead, ignoring your sudden, startled intake of breath. “At least until the baby comes.”

He should be, but this works better.

—

It takes a little longer than he’d like to convince you, but the two of them wear you down and a few weeks later Shouta finds himself carting boxes of your things up into the spare room in their apartment.

Despite the fact that you’re pregnant with their baby, you’re terrified of being a burden to the two Heroes, but it’s because of the baby that you eventually relent.

They want to be close, involved. They want to know that you’re safe – and their apartment’s state of the art security system will make sure of that when they’re not home with you. They want to make sure that you’re not exerting yourself, that you’re eating the right things and not running yourself ragged at a job you don’t need, stressing yourself out needlessly and putting the baby at risk.

All of that’s true.

It’s just not the entire reason.

At first, he convinces himself that it’s for Hizashi, as well as his own peace of mind, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the full truth of it. Because of course he wants to keep a close eye on the pregnancy – he knows that this can’t be easy on you. You have no family left, and if you have any friends then they’ve done an excellent job of keeping you at arm's length.

You have nobody but them, and it does bring him some modicum of peace to know that you’re just down the hall if anything goes wrong.

Hizashi adores having you there with them, having somebody else to cook for, somebody to come home to at the end of a long day. More than a few times, they’ve both returned from a night of patrolling to find you curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a blanket over your legs and a book slipping from your fingers, having tried, and failed, to wait up from them.

You tune into Mic’s radio show on the nights you can’t sleep, and on the odd mornings that you wake up before either of them, they come downstairs to find bacon sizzling away in the pan, a pot of coffee already brewing. There’s something oddly charming about the way you pout while you pour it for them, knowing you can’t have any yourself.

“You’re a special kind of masochist, ya know?” Hizashi teases, sidling up beside you to grab a cup.

You sigh dejectedly. “I must be,” you reply as he plants a kiss on your cheek and squeezes your side affectionately, but it’s impossible to miss the sparkle in your eyes. You’re happy here, with them.

Shouta warns you from pushing yourself too much, but even he can notice the apartment’s tidier when they arrive home than when they left, the freshly baked goods sitting on the countertop that weren’t there yesterday.

“I just… I know I can’t pay you back for all of this, I just wanna make myself useful,” you tell him one night when he asks about it. “I still feel like I’m taking advantage of the both of you, staying here…”

“You’re carrying our baby, that’s enough,” he reminds you, his calm, steady voice brooking no disagreement. And yet, as dark eyes study your face, he can tell that it’s not enough for you, so he sighs, and in a quiet voice adds, “We like having you here.”

He likes having you there. Sitting at the dining room table, helping him grade papers, lounging around on their rare days off together – helping Mic set up the nursery, volunteering to go shopping with them for baby stuff. He’s lost count of how many pregnancy books you’ve bought, pouring over them with a fine tooth comb late at night – often falling asleep in the process, leaving him and Hizashi to carry you off to bed with a barely there kiss to your forehead.

You fit between them in a way he hadn’t quite expected. Not a burden, not an interloper, but as if there was always a place carved out for you with them, and it’s only now that they realise that there was something missing to begin with.

It doesn’t quite click until he finds his thoughts drifting towards you at work, his fingers drumming along the top of his desk so he can stop himself from reaching for his phone. He’s not usually so distracted teaching, and as the hours drag he finds himself glancing towards the clock on the wall, counting down the hours, minutes, until the day is done and they can return home to you.

Shouta can’t pretend for much longer that there isn’t something oddly satisfying watching your belly grow and your breasts swell as your pregnancy goes on. You’re glowing, and soft and beautiful, and he could kid himself and say that it’s just the normal effects of pregnancy, but there’s some part of him that’s strangely proud when your shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of your baby bump – knowing it’s his child you’re carrying. His and ‘Zashi’s and yours.

And oh, he wishes that it was only pride that burns through his veins at the sight of you, barefoot and pregnant, pottering around the apartment. Hizashi’s the one to hold back your hair and rub your back soothingly when your morning sickness hits, but it’s Shouta who takes care of you when you start complaining about aching muscles and joints.

He tells himself that it’s purely about comfort, namely yours, ignoring the way you flush and stutter when he drags you up the stairs and pushes you gently towards the bed, telling you to lie down on your side.

It’s just a massage, yet the moment his fingers run along your soft skin and a breathy moan slips from parted lips, the very last vestiges of the facade he’d built up in his head crumble into dust.

You’re perfection. Bared and beautiful beneath him, making the prettiest noises for him as he works away at your muscles, expertly releasing all of your tension. He’s glad that your eyes are shut and you’re lost to the bliss, you don’t notice the way his breath hitches and becomes rough and heavy, the way his cock twitches in his sweats, blood flowing south as you arc into his touch.

Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?

“You’re amazing,” you moan, and though you can’t see that either, Shouta smirks. “Please never stop.”

It’s a good thing he has restraint, because it’s taking absolutely all of his to stop himself from taking more.

He wants all of you.

Wants to tease and taste.

Take.

Wants to hear those pretty fucking moans take the shape of his name… Hizashi’s name.

And maybe he might have felt guilty for those perverse thoughts, for the way he wants to tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you nice and proper, breed you–

If his husband hadn't been standing by the door, watching the two of you for the last ten minutes. Shouta doesn’t need to look to know that it’s not anger or jealousy burning in his gaze.

He knows that his husband’s far from disgusted, knows it from the way Hizashi grabs his wrist on his way back down the hallway, pulling him instead to their bedroom and shoving him back onto the mattress with a wicked grin.

There’s something positively feral in the blonde’s expression as he hovers over him, forcing Shouta back down with a hand splayed across his chest, the other reaching down to his sweats to free his aching, needy cock.

“You’ve been holding out on me, baby,” he sings.

—

They have time.

Your due date is still months away, and you’re comfortable, here with them.

There’s no reason for you to consider leaving until the baby’s born, and Shouta is adamant about keeping it that way. Hizashi can huff and puff and moan all he likes, he knows that they have to take this thing with you slowly. He won’t risk spooking you and losing any chance they have.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t empathise with the blonde, what with all the affectionate hugs and touches you thoughtlessly bestow, the way you’ll plonk yourself down on the couch between them so they can feel when the baby’s kicking.

Hizashi’s gotten to the stage where he’ll drop to his knees to shower your stomach in kisses when he gets home of an evening before sweeping you up into a hug of your own, his face a mask of perfect innocence when he catches sight of his husband’s less than impressed expression over your shoulder.

Having you here with them, this little temporary faux family dynamic the three of you have found yourselves in is easy, domestic and nice. It should be enough, but it’s not.

“It’ll be weird, going home after this,” you hum absentmindedly one night.

Preoccupied with the noodles you’re toying with in your bowl, you miss the sharp look shared between both men.

“Whaddya mean, sweetheart?”

If you notice the odd stiffness to the words, you pay it no mind, simply shrugging. “I mean once the baby’s born. I dunno, I think I’ve become too comfortable here freeloading off of the two of you…” you glance up, smiling a little. “Going back to work and finding a place on my own again, starting fresh, it’ll be different, that’s all. Not bad different,” you hasten to clarify at the blonde’s nearly stricken face, “just… different.”

“Well it’s not like we’re gonna be forcing ya out, hun! You’re always welcome to jam with us for as long as you want.”

You shake your head with a rueful little laugh, “We both know I can’t do that. You’ll have the baby to worry about and the last thing I want is to feel like some awkward interloper, always getting in the way – especially after everything you guys have done for me.”

Hizashi’s fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, tightening with every word out of your mouth.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not saying I’m never going to come around to hang out or anything, but once this baby comes I’m gonna have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” Your eyes meet his, wide and hopeful, and Shouta’s reminded once again of just how young you really are. “I can go anywhere, do anything. It’s kind of exciting, don't you think?”

It was a mistake, to think that you’d come around to them on your own.

You were young and naive, still living out a rose tinted fantasy where the world was your oyster and all you needed to do was reach out and take it. And maybe he’s partially to blame for that, taking your problems and getting rid of them, making you feel safe and comfortable, not realising that that security didn’t extend outside of these four walls, outside of their protection.

They need you, but kitten did you ever stop to think that you need them, too?

Shouta had made the mistake of forgetting how this all came to be – you hadn’t wanted a family, you were just trying to save your own skin. You still think that you can make it on your own, without them.

He supposes he shouldn’t blame you for your misplaced idealism, it’s only natural after all. Some people just don’t know what’s best for them.

They need to be shown.

—

You don’t stir as your bedroom door swings open.

Not as Hizashi pulls back your sheets, groaning softly at the sight of your swollen breasts and precious baby bump, stretching against the confines of your silk pajamas. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ dream, Shou?”

Not as the blonde busies himself in carefully sliding your sleep shorts down your legs, or even as Aizawa gathers up your wrists, pressing a kiss to each one, and binds them to the headboard with his capture weapon.

“Gentle, ‘Zashi,” he murmurs when the blonde crawls up on the bed beside you. “Nothing too rough.”

You wake as long fingers caress your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can kiss you properly.

Shouta hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but bathed under the soft glow of moonlight from your window, he watches your eyes flutter open, the momentary confusion that flashes across your face followed by realisation, horror, as you try to jerk back and cry out–

Only Hizashi doesn’t give you the opportunity, winding his hand through your tresses and anchoring you against him, forcing your lips open so that he can deepen the kiss and groaning appreciatively when a terrified whimper escapes you.

You still haven’t noticed Shouta kneeling on the bed between your legs, too preoccupied by Hizashi’s tongue sliding against yours. “Relax, kitten,” he says, laying his palm on your thigh, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin.

“Let us take care of our cute ‘lil baby mama, yeah songbird?” Hizashi adds, breaking away from the kiss with a lovesick grin.

Tonight is solely about you. Your pleasure, whether they have to tease it from you willingly or not.

Your tears are kissed away, your broken little pleas swallowed under ‘Zashi’s greedy lips as Shouta shuffles down the bed, nudging your thighs further apart so he can lie between them.

The keening cry that leaves you at the first stroke of his tongue against your warm sex is a thing of beauty.

Blood rushes to his cock as you writhe, and he tightens his grip as much as he dares to keep you locked in place as he delves in again. There’s little finesse to the way that Shouta eats your pussy – it’s a simple study of reactions; the way you gasp and shudder when the tip of his tongue circles your clit, the way your pussy clench and quiver around the muscle when he eases it inside of you, massaging your spongy walls.

Never one to be left out, Hizashi decides that there’s a better use of his attention than just your lips. With your arms bound, he’s not able to take your top off entirely so he settles with yanking it down, freeing your breasts.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty. Look atcha!”

Your tits must be tender and aching, because the moment Hizashi’s mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking at the pert nub, a fresh sob bursts from your lungs and you’re trying desperately to wriggle away.

Hizashi just frowns, breaking away for a second to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear, “Ah shit, sorry babe! I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Shouta’s far too preoccupied by the intoxicating taste of your sweet cunt to notice whether he actually does or not, but he trusts him not to push you too far. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

Your baby bump is cute and all, but Shouta wishes that it wasn’t blocking his view of your face – he wants to watch every little expression as he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt and your hips buck up to meet him. It’s a twisted kind of pride he feels, pride fused with filthy, maddening pleasure as he pulls a string of choked moans from you with just a few shallow thrusts of his fingers.

His jaw’s slicked with your juices, your cunt sucking his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy whimpers and the way your muscles are tensing beneath him, but the desperate canting of your hips, rocking up against his face even as you beg for relief.

“Shouta, Shouta, please– oh god, please stop, p-please!”

He longs to wrap a fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut as you cum for the first time on his tongue. Or better yet, maybe have Hizashi wrap that perfect mouth of his around his cock and suck him off–

But now’s not the time for him to be greedy.

Rough fingertips prod at your walls, searching for that hidden little spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

You almost convulse when he finds it, and Shouta can’t help but smirk against your cunt as you tighten and quiver around his digits. With Hizashi playing with your tits, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, Shouta’s lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles on it and long, thick fingers driving you to madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, pregnant, oversensitive body to handle.

You cum with a strangled shriek, and Shouta almost moans at the flood of juices that gush from your trembling cunt onto his waiting tongue.

“How’s she taste, baby?” Hizashi asks, green eyes blown wide, his own erection straining against his leather pants.

Shouta doesn’t waste a beat, pushing himself up with one arm and grabbing his husband’s wrist with the other, yanking him into a fierce kiss – letting him taste your honeyed juices on his tongue.

Fingers tangle in dark locks, tugging him closer, and ‘Zashi lets out a low, throaty groan. It’s rough and eager, a slow burning frenzy that makes the blood in his veins sing with excitement. With their lips still locked, the blonde hastily yanks at the zipper on his pants, freeing the painfully hard member with a tight hiss.

But when he finally does break for air, it’s not Shouta that he addresses, but you, lying spent, crying and breathless between them, beautiful in your fucked out state.

“You can’t expect to put on a show like that and not get me all worked up, sweet thing,” he coos, taking his flushed, throbbing cock in hand and giving it a few slow, cursory pumps. “I’m gonna fuck ya so good, baby – have you singin’ like a little birdie for me,” his eyes meet Shouta’s, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’ but the best for our cute ‘lil wife. Whaddya say, songbird? Lemme make you feel all nice and special, yeah?”

#yandere bnha #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere erasermic #yandere shouta aizawa x reader #yandere hizashi yamada x reader #shouta aizawa x hizashi yamada x reader #tw non con #tw pregnancy #tw breeding kink #tw age gap #oh my god it's like 5am why do i keep doing this to myself

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Poco a poco forte

In collaboration with @bethanysnow (whose askbox is always open!)

Jealousy was never a good look with stardust in the other’s eyes. Boundaries are tested. Fantasies are made hot and heavy with some alcohol. Will they make it back to the hotel all in one piece?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 5845

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree

***

Copenhagen was a whirlwind that barely left any time to breathe. Even the short break Y/n was granted in between was promptly used to make a dash for the nearest tourist shop. Adding a fridge magnet to her growing collection. No misses so far. She’d be lying if she wasn’t proud of it. Victoria gave a little tour through the city, giving ample opportunity to provide the fans with content via various social media platforms. A mad scramble back to the venue, soundcheck, dinner. A gig full of little mishaps, including Ethan losing a drumstick halfway through and Damiano almost tumbling off stage. At least the crew had gotten into a groove, ‘new tour’ jitters finally forgotten. That night, at the hotel, Y/n had found herself standing outside her door, empty ice bucket in hand. Somewhat wondering, hoping, someone would join her. Not just anyone. Him. But she wouldn’t knock on his door and he didn’t come to hers. It wasn’t to be. At least not that night.

The morning had brought the band another wake-up call from Y/n. Everyone was starting to settle into their routine. Get ready, get on the bus, get handed coffee by Y/n. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying this little comfort of domestic bliss, taking care of the people she was starting to consider friends. It felt right.

***

Damiano’s morning wasn’t quite as peaceful. His thoughts were plagued by images of Y/n. His decision to ‘cool it’ and back off a little seemed to be biting him in the arse. When she had come around to wake him up, she had been in a partially sheer blouse, black jeans and boots and he thought she looked like the perfect little alternative housewife. Luring him out of bed with the promise of coffee and breakfast. Now he was sitting on the couch on the bus, watching Y/n fly around the little kitchenette and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her bum in those jeans.

Nope, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Not now. The conversation with Victoria two nights ago was still ringing in his head. He had decided she was right - no use in pursuing anything unless he was certain what he was feeling and what he wanted out of it. He would still have enough time to make his move once he figured it out. Right? He didn’t know what Y/n was thinking. Or what she thought of him, so no use dwelling on it. Still the thought struck him, he barely knew anything about her. He should probably talk to her more. Infallible logic, he thought to himself. Backing off and talking to her at the same time. Great.

“Y/n… how do you usually take your coffee, by the way?”

“Lots of creamer, usually. Sometimes a bit of sugar, if I’m feeling fancy. Or if I’m feeling really fancy at a café, I might get a caramel macchiato.”

“Caramel is always nice.” Of course, she would like caramel, he thought to himself. “Do you normally drink coffee or are you more or stereotypical British tea drinker?”

“I enjoy a cuppa when I’m home, definitely. Italians aren’t exactly known for their tea now, are they?” A smirk appeared on her face, maybe a little baffled by the conversation, but happy to humour him. “Lady Gray is a particular favourite. Followed by breakfast tea with some sugar and milk. Before coffee. I can make you some tea sometime if you fancy?”

“That’d be great. You know, I just had an amazing idea actually,” Damiano grinned. “When we first went to Berlin, there was this amazing tea shop - would you want to go when we have the gig there?”

“That sounds lovely,” Y/n replied. “Of course.”

Another step closer to getting to know her.

***

“Right, we’ve all got an hour until soundcheck and some press things, I’m gonna go take Chili on her walk, you lot do whatever you want until then.”

Y/n had expected a few non-committal grunts, a wave, maybe a “see you later, I’ll go have a nap”, but instead, the whole band seemed to be on their highest energy levels. All of them immediately scrambled to their feet, looking for shoes and jackets, proclaiming they wanted to see the city, maybe take some pictures for Instagram along the way. Y/n wouldn’t dare complain about the company.

It didn’t take them long to reach the harbour, walking along the river as they enjoyed the bustle of town and the view. Y/n found herself pulling out her phone, telling everyone to gather around her.

“I’m no photographer, but I do need some memories of all of this. Thomas, stop pulling that face!” Thomas quickly dropped the grimace as she took the picture, the historic old town in the background. Chili was busy running around between the five of them, loving whoever gave her the attention the most. Y/n thought Victoria was reaching for the leash, already preparing to hand it over, but instead the bassist grabbed her hand. Obviously in a giddy mood, she began swinging their intertwined hands between them as they walked. Y/n couldn’t bite back a smile. She had missed having a close friend ever since she had moved to Italy leaving her best friend behind in the UK and she felt like this blossoming friendship with Victoria could truly begin to fill the void in her heart.

The blonde girl pulled her into a deep hug as Chili decided to go bother Ethan instead.

“I want a photo with just you,” Vic explained, pulling out her own phone for a snapshot. Y/n complied with a sigh but wrapped her arms around her, ready to take the picture. Right as the click went off, Victoria pressed a kiss to her cheek, taking her by surprise. Neither of them could hold back a giggle at her face in the photo.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, by the way,” Y/n spoke up as a little break in the conversation offered itself. If only to distract from the affection and it worked perfectly. All eyes and ears on her. “I’ve booked a little dinner for tonight. But not just any dinner. A burlesque one!”

The group let out various cheers. Thomas immediately ran ahead of the group, shamelessly faking a striptease as they kept walking. Damiano made sure to record the performance, already giggling to himself. Thomas was in the middle of shrugging off his jacket, walking backwards, when - ouch! - he bumped into a pole, heavily bonking his head. Everyone erupted into hysterical laughter, and after rubbing the back of his head with a pour for a moment, even the guitarist joined in.

“You alright?” Y/n asked breathlessly, trying to hide the giggles in her voice, genuinely concerned about him still.

“Besides the fact that I just got all of you to drop your panties for me? I’m great!” The blond grinned at his own joke, as everyone else rolled their eyes.

“Yes! Oh my god, take me Thomas!” Damiano gasped dramatically, pushing himself up against Thomas, who grabbed onto his leg to dip him.

“Wait! Hold on!” Y/n shouted, once again grabbing her phone as the captured the moment. “Now that’s one for the fridge.”

***

Backstage was business as usual. Y/n once again took the time to watch the band soundcheck, always feeling soft looking at the way they played without having to be ‘on’, without putting on a big performance. Yet, she was still in work mode, phone displaying the name of a reporter she was waiting on, along with the name of the magazine she was working for. It didn’t take long for her to appear.

The woman was undeniably beautiful. Thin figure, long, red hair, picture perfect makeup. Even her clothes were pressed, luxury brands decorating her, adding to the pristine image. A press pass hung around her neck, acrylic nails tapping something into her phone. Leaning back, Y/n noticed the particular red leather on the bottom of the woman’s heels.

It was only after putting her phone away that she acknowledged Y/n at all.

“Anywhere I can sit down with the band?” Her eyes barely even met Y/n’s.

“Uh, yeah, once they’re done with soundcheck, they will be in the greenroom,” Y/n said, mustering the woman. “You the reporter?”

“Sure, sure. Can I go there now, sit down, get ready?”

Y/n studied the press pass on the woman’s neck, making sure she was actually the person they were looking for and shrugged. “Alright, follow me.”

She led the reporter further backstage. The greenroom was fitted with a couch and a couple of chairs, a vanity in front of the mirror and makeup already carelessly thrown around. A costume rack in the back.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” the woman muttered, looking around the room, obviously dissatisfied with it’s slightly chaotic state and - probably - lack of style. “That’s all I need you for, then.”

Y/n’s eye twitched, busying herself with the clothes, reorganising them to distract herself.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but rules are rules. Can’t be in a room alone, privacy reasons and all that. I’m sure you understand.”

“Well then.” She carefully placed herself on one of the chairs, highly aware of her posture, her face, and the fact that she’d be right in view of everybody entering the room. “Maybe you can be a bit of help, then. You know, a little insider information between us girls… How into the whole, you know, rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle are they really? I’m talking, drugs, alcohol… groupies?”

It was no question as to what she was hinting at.

“Well, Damiano has a whole tattoo verifying that he hates parties. Plus, they’re not really known for that kind of stuff. And for the interview, I’d rather you stick to the approved questions that your magazine has discussed with our management. There’s no ‘insider information’ here -” Y/n was about to talk herself into a whole rant, when the door opened and the band moved into the room, joyous and hyped for the show that evening.

Victoria was the first to bounce over to Y/n, kissing her cheek, before collapsing on the couch next to her. Ethan, Thomas and Damiano followed suit. Chili had followed the band, now hopping onto the couch and making herself comfortable on Y/n’s lap. Ethan looked over at the reporter, brow raised. “You here to do the interview?”

“Oh you know it,” she winked. Y/n didn’t miss how her whole demeanour had changed and she couldn’t have been more annoyed. “Lovely to meet you all.”

She held out her hand to Ethan, the smirk never leaving her face, before greeting the others in a similar fashion. She held onto Damiano’s hand much longer than the others.

“Nice to meet you,” Damiano said, politely, sitting down as well.

“Oh, that’s no trouble at all,” she beamed at the singer. “Now, you’re here in Hamburg today, and in the part of town most notorious for having Europe’s largest red light district. Do you feel like that’s the perfect background for your gig tonight? You know, with the music you play and the way you dress - it’s not like you’ve been shy about sex in your career so far.”

They all chuckled slightly.

“Well, sexuality isn’t something to be ashamed about, at least we don’t think so. It’s part of everyday life and part of our own experiences so we put that into music,” Victoria eloquently explained. “And what we’ve seen of the city so far has been very beautiful.”

“Well, maybe I should give you a little tour then, show you the naughty parts of town,” she laughed. “Back on topic though, I imagine touring can be hard, being away from everyone. Do you ever get lonely on tour? For friends or… something else?”

Damiano coughed. “Sure, we get lonely, like anyone else would. But we make a family out of the crew. Everyone on our team is very close to us.” Y/n could clearly see in his eyes that he knew full well what the woman was hinting at. “We love touring, so when you love something, it doesn’t feel like work.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. Y/n could see through all of them easily - none of them wanted to be there.

“Yes, of course, touring can be difficult, but we have fun, so not that bad,” Thomas added.

Y/n didn’t miss the way the reporter briefly looked over her shoulder to muster a reaction from her. “Well I’m sure you’re easily able to find some fun away from your… crew. Lots of parties on tour so far?”

At that point, Y/n was ready to rip the reporter to shreds. But she knew she had to stay professional, and the band was more than able to hold their own, so she stayed quiet. Ethan next to her sat up a little, obviously uncomfortable.

“No, we don’t party. No time.” His vision went dark as he looked at the woman in front of them. As kind and mindful as he usually was, he didn’t shy down when it came to showing his scarier side when he needed to.

“Yeah. We sometimes go to a bar on a day off, but that’s about it. Work is more important,” Victoria threw in as she put an arm around Ethan on the back of the couch.

Y/n felt a wave of pride at the way the band was holding up. It was absolutely no secret to her that they were desperately waiting for this interview to end, annoyed with the reporter and the lines she kept trying to cross, but they stayed polite and professional. She thought that this was what made them real rockstars in that moment.

“Okay, one more question, then. You entered this business really young, you still are, yet you write quite mature music, how do you manage that?”

“We write what we want to write. Perform how we want to perform. I don’t think that has an age limit,” Damiano spoke curtly. His eyes flickered over to their assistant. Y/n was sure he didn’t miss the way she was staring daggers into the back of the reporter’s skull. “And music has always been a passion of ours. We just got lucky really early in life, I guess.”

“Well thank you very much for your time,” the reporter said, standing up, and once again reaching out her hand to say her goodbyes. “Hope to see you around…” As she came to Damiano, Y/n didn’t miss how she stuffed a little note in his hand. “...hopefully.”

“Can I go kick her face now?” Y/n stood up, seething, as soon as the reporter had left the room. “Sorry, no, that’s actually rude. But I’m going to call management and report that woman.”

“Yeah, that… wasn’t cool,” Ethan contemplated. “How about you make that call and then we take your mind off it with the dinner show you booked for us, yeah?”

Y/n took a deep breath, looking at Ethan, whose eyes had turned back to show nothing but kindness. She couldn’t wait to forget about this disaster for the rest of the evening and enjoy herself. With the band in tow, she was sure she would.

***

Damiano hadn’t been quite sure what to expect from dinner that evening - but it wasn’t a table smack in the middle of the first row right in front of the stage. He should have seen it coming, really. When Y/n planned and schemed, she always made sure to get them the best of the best. Determined to make sure everyone was having fun. She truly took care of them like no other.

A waiter was at their table in no time, taking orders for drinks and food, and the openers started before Damiano even had a chance to take a sip of his wine. As soon as it became obvious that the first act of the evening would be pole dancing. The rest of the band started snickering, nudging Damiano’s side. Still, they all watched in amazement as the dancer started their performance, music filling the room.

“You know, I could do that,” Damiano whispered in Y/n’s ear as he leaned in close. She looked over at him - at the performer - back to him.

“Sure you can,” she giggled.

“Oh I can,” Damiano insisted, leaning in closer than necessary now. “And in heels.”

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from coughing, choking ever so slightly on her drink, as her eyes widened and a slight shade of pink appeared on her face.

Damiano simply couldn’t help himself. He knew he had meant to back off, give her a little space, give himself some time to think, but the words simply slipped out. “I can always offer you a private show, you know?”

This time, she only paused for a moment before whispering back, “You teach me pole dancing, I’ll teach you rumba, yeah?”

Fuck, he hadn’t expected her to get the upper hand so quickly. Still, he never once lost his smirk, murmuring a “sure” back at her. She had gotten back her cool, focusing back on her meal now, only looking up to watch the performance every now and then in between bites. She was making it way too hard for him to back off. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him.

Leaning back into his chair, Damiano watched the performer on stage. They were beautiful, no question about that. Amazing at what they did. It was impossible to keep your eyes off them, even Y/n kept getting distracted. He wondered if she’d look at him the same way if it was him up there. Or if he did a little show himself that night, on stage at their own gig. Catching her attention like the dancer was doing now. Maybe making her lose her mind a little bit. It was worth a try…

The performance was over much too quickly for his liking and only shortly after, the main dancer of the evening was announced to go on stage soon. It didn’t take long for the lights dimming, before fading to black completely. A hush falling over the crowd. A spotlight found a petite, blonde bombshell in the middle of the stage. Perfectly sculpted hair, blue boa feather skirt, a glitter corset that dripped with silver and gold accents. She seemed to be glistening under the stage light, body glitter accenting all the right curves and features. Then she turned around.

Damiano’s jaw dropped - along with just about everyone else’s. She was così bella, un angelo. She walked to the front of the stage as the crowd cheered and whistled. Damiano was enraptured by her. She was mystifyingly beautiful. Each move was carefully planned out, knowing exactly what she was doing and how to do it. She was feeding off the crowd, spurred on by the shouts and comments, as she moved across the stage.

Damiano’s eyes followed her closely. He felt hypnotised by her performance. He had never given burlesque much thought, but this show was changing his mind rapidly. The only thing to pull him out of his was a sigh - a disgruntled noise maybe - coming from his left. It was hard to make out Y/n’s face in the dark, he realised as he turned towards her. But if he’d learned anything about her body language in the past days, he was certain that she wasn’t happy. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she was leaned back in her chair in a way that tried to suggest she wasn’t bothered. But she was. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He was distracted when the dancer was back in front of their table, looking down at them from the stage. She sent all of them a wink, before pulling the elbow-length gloves off one by one and throwing them to the side with a smile. She mesmerised him, even as she moved away from them to give another table some attention. Yet, Y/n was playing at the back of his mind.

Why did she seem so mad? She was the one who had booked this dinner, why wasn’t she having fun? Was she still preoccupied with the reporter from before? Sure, that one had definitely stepped over lines, but he thought they’d all gotten out of there pretty unscathed. And the reporter's number had wandered into the bin immediately. He considered the matter closed.

The woman on stage slowly lowered herself into a split, causing pretty much the whole audience to lose their minds. This was too good. More cheers and applause from everywhere. Damiano heard Vic shouting vague words of encouragement as the woman lost her bra, only pasties covering her nipples now. Y/n let out a little groan and from the corner of his eye, he could see her rolling hers. This time, Damiano wasn’t the only one who noticed. He watched as Victoria and Ethan exchanged looks, then nods, and finally shrugs.

Finally the performance ended, the dancer leaving the stage with another wink and kiss blown towards them. Damiano wished it could’ve gone on for longer. These people knew how to turn sex into art, and he’d by lying if he said it didn’t inspire him.

“Okay, gather up, no time to waste,” Y/n order, getting up from her seat the second the lights were turned back on. “You have a show to play and I don’t want you to be late.”

Damiano threw another look around. Even Thomas, who had been too preoccupied drooling over the dancer to notice anything else, was now staring at Y/n questioningly.

“What’s going on with her?” The guitarist asked as they all gathered their stuff and followed their assistant outside.

“Fuck if I know,” Damiano mumbled. “But I wanna find out, sooner or later.”

***

It wasn’t like her to be jealous. She didn’t care much about what other people found enthralling. But Damiano had looked at the dancer as if she was god’s gift to humanity. Yes, she was pretty, yes, she knew how to shake her arse. Was it all that special? The dancer was petite, a perfect fit for Damiano’s arms. A perfect figure to match his. Y/n was confident, she knew she was beautiful, but unfortunately the rest of the world didn’t always think the same. Unlike the dancer on stage. That woman was more than beautiful… She was palatable, sexy, perfect in all the ways a woman should be. Qualities that Y/n was currently convinced she didn’t possess any of.

Okay, maybe she was jealous. But she didn’t have any right to be. The dancer was simply doing her job. And so what, if Damiano had fancied her? It wasn’t like they were together. She worked for him, that was all. She didn’t have any right to want anything from him beyond that.

The fresh air hit her face as she left the venue, forcing some clarity onto her. She’d have to get a grip and get back to focusing on her job. It’s what she was there for, after all.

***

Victoria bounced over the Y/n as she left the venue, full of adrenaline and happiness from the show she had just watched.

“That was amazing, Y/n! Where did you get the idea for this being today’s dinner?” She asked, hooking onto the assistant’s arm.

“Looked up places we could go online, found this one in a travel blog. Said it had amazing wine so I thought we could check it out,” she explained without looking up from her hands, which were toying with the receipt.

“Well, you sure do have impeccable taste,” Victoria grinned and kissed her cheek. It seemed to pull Y/n out of her head enough to look up at the bassist. But Vic’s smile vanished quickly when she saw the look in her eyes. It was cloudy, gloomy, enough to make Victoria freeze up. Thomas was excitedly chattering about the show in the performance in the background, how hot he thought the performers were, especially the last dancer. Damiano eagerly agreed. Y/n’s seemed to have a flash of venom on her face, and suddenly it clicked in Vic’s mind. Oh, she knew that look well, had carried it herself a couple of times in her life.. She was jealous. Y/n was jealous of the way they all - or maybe, someone in particular - had reacted to the woman on stage. And she was doing a bad job hiding it.

As soon as the car pulled up, everyone scrambled to get it. Y/n immediately started bouncing her leg, still a stormy look in her eyes. If it didn’t seem so serious, Victoria would be amused at the state their assistant was in. Yet, with the expression on her face right then and there, the bassist didn’t dare make a joke.

Damiano was sitting next to Y/n, and Victoria desperately tried to catch his eye. It took a slight kick against his shin to get him to look at her. She flickered eyes back and forth between Damiano and Y/n, motioning him towards the woman. Hoping he would understand. Luckily, they’d long gotten used to reading the other’s face, no need for a verbal conversation. Damiano looked down at Y/n’s hands, still picking at the receipt, and he quickly grabbed one of them. Interlacing their fingers and offering her a smile when she looked up. Her leg stopped bouncing immediately.

“You alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah. Am now.”

Victoria couldn’t bite back the smile on her face, quickly turning towards her phone to be less oblivious. Those two would do just fine, sooner or later, she was sure of it.

***

The concert venue was smaller than some of the others they’d been playing on this tour, but if anything, it had caused the crowd to be even more rowdy. Y/n once again sat to the side of the stage, engrossed in her phone. Damiano snuck a peek through the curtain, before retreating and watching Y/n instead. She didn’t seem half as gloomy as she did at the dinner show. But a certain forlorn quality was still obvious. She had never been this type of obviously sad or upset before. At least not to his attention. Well, he was determined to get her to laugh tonight. Whatever had ruined her mood, he was going to fix it.

The band was getting hyped up, gathering around, some last minute fixes to their instruments among excited chatter. Yet, apparently, it hadn’t been only him who noticed Y/n’s mood. Once again sharing a look with Ethan, Victoria motioned her head over to their assistant. He nodded, before walking over to Y/n, taking her by the hand to get her to stand up, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Victoria quickly followed suit, then Thomas, who had caught on. Damiano quickly gave a wink before kissing her forehead instead.

“For luck!” He shouted, as he ran on stage, welcoming the crowd. A quick look back confirmed a bashful smile on her face.

Everyone was on fire that night, even Y/n seemed to let go of her bad mood more and more. Damiano didn’t miss the way she sang along to their cover of ‘Take Me Out’, obviously getting into the show more than previous nights. Knowing all the lyrics, dancing ever so slightly… Damiano realised he really had it bad for her.

He decided to go for it during “For your love”. With a pointed look towards her, he slowly started rolling off one arm of his jacket. Then the other. A little mock burlesque show of his own, dramatically shimmying his shoulders as he got rid of the jacket completely. The crowd more than appreciated his little performance, judging by their screams. The rest of the band was eating his energy up, playing harder, going crazier. As Damiano jogged over to grab some water, he didn’t miss the opportunity to turn his back towards Y/n, shaking his arse in a bad attempt at twerking. Turning back, he could see that she was desperately trying to bite back a smile. But he wasn’t done yet.

Making sure she was still looking at him, he began playing with his microphone. Giving it a teasing lick and sending her a wink at the same time. Watching her as he let his hand rest on his chest, slowly wandering lower with a teasing touch, until it rested in his lap. He only managed to keep it up for a second, before he couldn’t hold back the laugh at her expression anymore and turned back towards the audience.

But apparently, Y/n had some trick of her own. Well, it seemed like she wasn’t even aware of them, but they worked on Damiano all the same. She was taking her hair out of the pony tail for the night and he thought the way it cascaded around her face was beautiful. He felt like a movie cliche, watching as the main character let her hair down and everything suddenly happened in slow motion. Yet, here she was, trying to shove a bobby pin back into place, and he was losing his shit. He thought it was ridiculous though. The crazier her hair went, the crazier he went about her. She swayed to the music and for a second Damiano could swear time stood still.

I wonder if she likes her hair pulled… The thought distracted him to the point that he forgot what he was singing, quickly covering it up by animating the audience to sing it instead. He was glad to be nearing the end of the set. He’d never wish to go off stage, per se, but Y/n was once again occupying his thoughts and the way she was moving to the music now didn’t help.

Another song, another bow towards the audience, another well-practised “Danke!”, and they were off stage. Damiano briefly considered going over to Y/n, only to see Thomas basically chasing her away, threatening her with a sweaty hug. Her slightly panicked squeals proved she wasn’t a fan of the idea. He didn’t mind. He’d make sure there’d be more time to catch up with her later.

Briefly dropping into the dressing room, Damiano grabbed his cigarettes and a hoodie, before heading outside for a smoke. The backstage door led to a quieter alley than the famously busy Reeperbahn on the other end. But there were still more than a handful of people walking past, singing, dancing, shouting into the night, beer bottles in hand. It didn’t take long for everyone else to join him. Ethan headed outside first, bumming a cigarette off the singer, before Thomas and Victoria followed. They were once again involved in some sort of mock argument. Y/n stepped outside a minute later, phone in her hand, already back to work-mode and probably checking the plan for the next few days. Everyone was still on a high from the gig, chatting and giggling, but Damiano felt himself taking a step back. He loved watching his friends, loved what they did, loved that he got to do it with them. And now Y/n too, in a way. Not even a full week in and he knew that this tour wouldn’t have been the same without her.

He was rapidly pulled out of his thoughts as a group of men came towards them, obviously way past drunk. Yelling and hollering for no reason but to be annoying and get everyone’s attention. Damiano hated those kinds of drunks. In his experience they were nothing but trouble. He had half a mind to retreat back inside before they reached the group, but even in their inebriated stupor; they were quicker than expected.

“Now, who are these beautiful girls?” One of them slurred, stepping forward.

“Yeah! Bet you give a man a good time,” another one laughed loudly. “And a cheap one too.”

One of them was moving closer now, almost touching Victoria - but without even a moment to process what was happening, Y/n acted. Damiano watched, fascinated, as she grabbed the man’s extended hand, twisting it around his back and shoulder checking him into the brick wall of the alley. No second thought, no hesitation. Shouldn’t the men have been the one to react and take care of their girls? Well, it didn’t seem like Y/n was one to wait to be saved.

In a tone that he had never heard before - and neither had the rest of the band judging by their reactions - Y/n spoke, “You couldn’t afford me, mate. Or my friends. So I’d take your piss drunk self elsewhere, m’kay?”

The men were gone faster than lightning, stumbling to find their footing as they ran, only starting to comment on how she was a “fat fucking bitch” and how they “wouldn’t have wanted her anyway” when they were far enough away. Y/n wordlessly rejoined the group.

Damiano found himself releasing a breath. The whole scene had been over so quickly, he barely registered it. He wasn’t the only one either, he realised. As the other three kept staring at her, amazed and maybe slightly intimidated, while Y/n didn’t even react.

However, Damiano wasn’t just mesmerised by her behaviour. He was thrilled by her - in more ways than one. The way she had handled herself was downright hot. She was fierce, self-confident, and strong. He couldn’t keep himself from contemplating whether this was a side she would let out in the bedroom as well. Was she the type to take control? Order him around? Push him to a wall like she’d done that guy, only with very different intentions? He would be 100% okay with taking orders from her, he decided.

Y/n finally looked up from her phone, apparently feeling everyone’s stares on her.

“...What. I told you I worked security before.” She looked at Victoria, quietly asking her if she was alright. She simply nodded. Damiano still couldn’t keep his eyes off of their assistant. Damn, that woman had more to herself than she let on.

***

Damiano was still thinking about it an hour later. After everyone had gathered their stuff and gotten back to the hotel and split up into their rooms. After he’d gotten in the shower. His mind was still running wild. He quickly turned the water to cold, letting out a hiss at the change in temperature, but he knew he didn’t have the time or the privacy to do anything about his thoughts. Neither would he be knocking on Y/n’s door, desperate for some kind of attention.

Not tonight.

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