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fueledbysano · 8 months ago

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˚୨୧₊♱ study partners

Zayne is a brilliant and accomplished medical student, proficient in a number of fields such as cardio, neuro, trauma, pediatrics, ortho, and a lot more. However, an upcoming exam in his area of weakness, obstetrics, has him feeling anxious and unprepared. who's more qualified to help him study than you, his pretty childhood friend and roommate? ♡

♱ med student! zayne x afab!reader

♱ content/warnings: slowburn, friends to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus, piv sex (cowgirl), soft dom, switch, virgin zayne, virginity loss, you teach zayne the female anatomy, body worshipping, possessive zayne, soft sex ♡

♱ tags: @enchantedforest-network @crisae

♱ 5k

You woke up late in the evening in a panic, startled to find that it was already dark and cold outside. You had spent the entire afternoon sleeping after an intense training session, and had begun to worry that you had missed the day entirely and that it was time to get ready for another day. Your heart was pounding with trepidation as you left your room.

However, you discovered Zayne seated in the living room, still engrossed in his study materials that took up the entire coffee table. Realizing you had only been asleep for 8 hours, you felt both embarrassed and relieved— Embarrassed that you had woken up so late in the evening, and relieved that you had not missed an entire night after all.

“Look who's up... Good morning,” Zayne spoke when he heard your door open, still engrossed in the study material he was reading. His eyes remained firmly fixed on the highlighted texts and diagrams in front of him, not even looking up to glance at you.

“Hey, Zayne,” you chuckled softly, heading towards the kitchen to help yourself with a glass of water. He seemed thoroughly absorbed in his studying and appeared to have been extremely immersed in his studies. “Pulling an all-nighter?” you asked, tone light and pleasant despite the fact that you had gotten a late start to the day yourself.

“Staying up late to intake information impairs one's cognitive functioning,” Zayne explained rationally, looking through the pages of his book as he spoke. “It's not worth it,” His tone was calm and practical, as if he was stating a fact rather than expressing a personal thought. He didn't appear to be tired at all, seemingly not bothered by the fact that he had been studying for so many hours. “I’ll call it a day in a while.” He added to answer your question.

You nodded in response, quietly looking around the cupboards for something to eat. Your stomach growling reminded you that you hadn't eaten anything yet. Just then, Zayne spoke up again, “I made vegetable frittatas for dinner. I already put your portion aside in the microwave, so just heat it up yourself.”

“Thanks, Zayne.” you smiled as you looked inside the microwave and saw the beautifully plated vegetable frittatas that Zayne had prepared for you. You pressed the buttons and the dish began to spin slowly. The light inside gave you a good view of the dish that Zayne had so meticulously prepared. As you waited for your food to heat up, your stomach rumbled louder, reminding you that you were indeed very hungry and had not eaten anything yet.

Zayne yawned as he turned the page in his study material, noticing that you had been quiet for a while. His gaze drifted to you as you ate the dinner he had made, the smile on your face as you tasted the delicious flavors making his body feel warm. The hour he had spent preparing the dish paid off, as he could see how happy and appreciative you were of the effort he had put in.

"Did the ice bath work?" Zayne asked, recalling his previous advice and wanting to see if you had followed it. "Yes, it works like a charm," you smiled as you continued to eat, your tone light and cheerful. You were pleasantly surprised that the ice bath had worked so well, and was grateful to have a roommate who is a med student.

You couldn't help but notice how effortlessly attractive Zayne was. His appearance was captivating, and his demeanor was effortlessly attractive. You thought about how even if he was having a breakdown right now, the way he carried himself suggested otherwise. You couldn't help but gaze at him again for a moment, appreciating his undeniable charisma and attractiveness.

You looked away when you realized that you had been staring at him for too long, feeling embarrassed by your gaze. You were aware that you had been staring for a while, and felt your face start to warm up. You kept your head lowered, focusing on your dinner as you tried to avoid looking at him.

"Thanks for the dinner, Zayne." You eventually finished the meal.

"You're welcome," Zayne responds politely, glad that you have enjoyed the dinner he cooked for you. He watches as you get up and heads towards the bathroom, noticing your head lowered as you did. He couldn't help but smile to himself for the fact that you liked his little gesture.

After spending some time in the bathroom, you emerge to your surprise finding Zayne in his place, his nose still buried in books. You were surprised that he was still studying despite the late time. You had thought that he would've already finished up and gone to bed by now; but it seemed like he was still dedicatedly studying.

"What happened to 'sleeping early to stay alert'?" you tease playfully, approaching him with a cup of green tea in hand. You gently place the cup on the desk, the steaming hot tea filling the nearby air with an aromatic scent. His stoic and practical approach to studying seems to have been abandoned in favor of continuing to ingest information even after an all-nighter.

"I may have underestimated this exam," Zayne answers, pushing his glasses up and adjusting his sitting position slightly. His eyes seem bleared, but his voice still remains calm and focused. He seems to have realized his mistake in overestimating his ability to study after an all-nighter, and is now recognizing how hard this examination will be.

“Take a break. I promised grandma to keep you alive this semester.” You pushed the cup of green tea closer to Zayne. You were aware that his study sessions were often intense and grueling, and would sometimes even include all-nighters.

Zayne sighed softly and sipped the tea, as it provided a much-needed warmth that softened his tense demeanor. The tea's warmth eased his tense muscles and made him feel slightly more relaxed, which was something he very much needed in the middle of a study session that felt like it would never end.

"That's the one I got at the train station when we first moved in here. I also added just a teaspoon of honey to really balance the flavors. What do you think?" you ask, sitting next to Zayne as you continue the conversation. Zayne noticed how you seem to be making an effort to keep the conversation going, wanting to engage with him more and to get his opinion on what you have done.

"It's really good. I can taste the difference between the usual and yours. The honey adds a nice subtle sweetness that really complements the flavors of the green tea.” She smiles in response to his compliment before peeking at the books on the desk, curious to see what he's currently studying. "What's got you so stressed anyways? Is it a certain subject?"

Zayne pauses for a moment, the steam from his cup of tea fogged up his glasses. Then, he finally replies, slowly and with a bit of hesitation in his voice, "Uh...yeah." You shrug, not particularly concerned about the situation at hand. You has faith in Zayne's abilities and intelligence, as you believe that he will eventually come around and figure it out. You spoke with a carefree and relaxed tone, as if the issue was trivial and not something to worry about. "You'll figure it out. You're smart, Zayne," you assured him, the last part of your statement being an expression of positivity.

Zayne appreciated the positivity from you, but he couldn't deny that he was not the best at the subject in question.

"Actually… I may not," he admits, his tone sounding slightly more genuine and honest. He was clearly not confident in his abilities, which was in contrast to your carefree and optimistic attitude.

Zayne took one particular book from his desk and handed it to you, as if surrendering. The title of the book caught your attention and sparked your curiosity, which read, "D.C Dutta's Textbook of Gynecology".

"I suppose I never really dabbled so much in this particular specialty," Zayne explained, still looking somewhat defeated and frustrated with himself. He was acknowledging that he had never really put much time and effort into studying this specific area of medicine.

He wasn't necessarily saying that he was completely unfamiliar with it, but he was admitting that he wasn't experienced enough to feel comfortable and confident with it. You chuckled, responding to his self-doubt and frustration. "Trust me, even us girls still figure it out as we get older."

Zayne tilts his head, “Are you suggesting that even from a female perspective, it is normal to not have everything completely figured out when it comes to this particular… specialty?”

“Oh yeah.”

“That’s even scarier.” Zayne comments, sipping his cup of tea and seeming to be slightly troubled by the revelation.

You lean forward to place the book back down the stack beside the table, and Zayne gently places his hand on the edge of the wooden surface to prevent you from knocking into it. When you got back up, the proximity in between you and Zayne flustered you; and the fact that his free arm was just on the couch behind you.

You felt your breath quicken and your cheeks start to warm, as if your body was involuntarily reacting to his subtle closeness.

"You know... since... I'm not sleepy anymore, maybe I can... help you out with that?" You ask, voice trembling slightly with shyness as you toy with the hem of your dress, a subtle gesture that added a flirtatious context.

Zayne's cheeks heated up when you made the flirty offer, as he was not expecting it. His breath catches in his throat, and he speaks in a breathy and slightly nervous tone, avoiding direct eye contact with you.

"Don't speak like that, Y/N..."

"Why~?" You ask innocently, in reply to his flustered reaction to the offer.

"Because...I won't say no. I won't hold back," He responds, voice now growing even more flustered as he acknowledges that he is vulnerable.

Zayne's breath increased slightly, but he kept his movements subtle and respectful of your personal space. But despite this outward appearance of behavior and restraint, his eyes revealed a much different story. The way he was looking at you, with such intensity and desire, was a clear indication that he was feeling increasingly attracted to you and was struggling to resist your advances.

"Where do you need help~?" You ask candidly, your finger lightly tracing the frame of his glasses and causing him to shudder. Zayne finally caught your hand and locked eyes with you, the heat between them growing more intense as his hand overlapped yours. “Do you really want to help me?”

You noticed the way Zayne's eyes kept wandering down your body, as if you were his focal point of attention. You nodded and placed his hand on your hip, giving him permission to touch you. “I’m a girl, and I’m your friend, aren’t I?” Your playful and mischievous actions made the situation even more titillating.

“I’ve already gone through everything but…” He said, his voice slowly growing more confident and bold, as he grabbed your face. "We can go off-textbook..." He suggested brushing her hair in a sensuous way. His tone and manner were becoming more confident and bold, implying that he was willing to take things to a different level.

He was giving a subtle hint that he wanted to take things further, that he was ready and willing to explore your connection in a different way.

You lean down to whisper into his ear, "Yes...way better than photos and texts on paper," sending a shiver down his spine. You weren't just giving a playful response, but actually agreeing with his suggestion, making you even more provocative and irresistible and made him feel overwhelmed with desire.

Zayne sat you on his lap and held your chin, making contact and bringing you even closer. “I need to hear it from you, is this okay?” He asks, first, to make sure that he had your full consent before proceeding. Second, as a verification that it wasn't a dream, confirming that he had successfully taken you down this path.

"Yes, Zayne. I want this. Do you?" You confirmed, letting him know that you were willing to explore this connection further. You placed your hand on his chest, trying to feel the rhythm of his heart.

“Yes, please… teach me.” He was surprised by his own outburst of desire and infatuation, completely overwhelmed by your beauty and allure.

After stealing glances and gazes from each other's lips, Zayne finally took the first move to kiss you. The moment of your first kiss, your lips finally touching, felt even more intense and exhilarating because of this buildup.

Zayne sighed as you kissed, lifting you in his arms so that they could move to the couch together, continuing this intimate moment. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you and the way he moved with ease was like heaven.

He was taking initiative and taking you to a place where you could be more comfortable and where they could explore your desires to the fullest extent, which turned you on even more.

"You're even more beautiful to me right now, [ Y / N ]...may I see all of your beauty?" He asks softly, his hands now gently stroking your hair and taking in your physical presence and warmth. He was slowly building up the anticipation, slowly moving his hands down to parts of your body that would reveal your beauty even farther.

You are seeing a completely different side of Zayne, one that was passionate and expressive rather than just reserved and focused on productivity. And you were more than willing to allow him to dictate the pace at which things progressed. “Yes, we can go at your pace, okay? I know you have been studying so hard.” You place a kiss on his cheek, giving him the space and freedom to explore this more intimate side of himself.

Zayne lifted your dress and gasped softly when he saw what was underneath, astonished by your beautiful body. He proceeded to start from your tummy, using his large hands to gently stroke your skin with delicate touches and soft kisses. Every touch, every stroke, every kiss that he placed on you felt like sanctuary, as you felt him enjoying and fully appreciating every inch of your physique.

Zayne stops just on your lower abdomen, and he looks up at her as he says, "I'm gonna examine the figure now, my dear tutor." Instead of immediately moving to the more intimate parts of her body, he deliberately pauses before moving on to the next step to pull your panties off.

Zayne is still in the process of studying and learning about the beauty of the female figure, so seeing your body for the very first time is quite an experience for him. He had seen pictures and read many things in books, but there is nothing like the real deal. He wants to explore and examine your body but doesn't know where to start and unsure of how to proceed.

You found his flustered reaction so adorable and sweet. “Why don't you… tell me what you know~?” You sit up slightly to stroke his cheek,

Zayne’s breath was hot against your soaked pussy, he brushed his thumb against your entrance, inspecting the sheen layer of arousal. “I see that this is the physiological activation response of the dopaminergic and serotonergic system to my… stimulation.” He made eye contact with you by the end of his sentence. All the scientific terms and smart talking was adding to your arousal.

Zayne took your wrist with his other hand and pressed his fingers against the side, feeling your pulse. “Increased heart rate, too. I'm flattered.” He chuckled softly and let go of your hand, his thumb still sliding against your entrance.

“Yes, I'm very turned on right now.” You sigh softly, pussy clenching around itself as he keeps teasing your entrance. “Good, good…” He whispered, now taking his index and middle finger to run up your labia. “Your skin here is sensitive, I shall be careful.” He spoke, leaning forward to get a better look. He adored the way your folds reacted to his fingers with every stroke and spread. “Zayne…” You sighed softly, your back falling back onto the throw pillows as his fingers explored your pussy. You were already struggling keeping your legs open and he was just barely getting started.

“H—ahhh—hhh” You let out your first moan of the night when his fingers come in contact with your clit. “Oh, did I find it right away?” His question laced with smugness to it. “Yes, you did.” Your eyes fluttered close when he established a slow rhythm circling it.

“This is the most erogenous area of the female anatomy, is it for you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your preferences. “Yes, I like being touched there.” Your legs tangled together on his back to pull him closer. “My, my…” Zayne’s breath started to uneven, his face heating up and glasses falling down his nose.

Zayne wants to forget his med school responsibilities for this moment, and he wants to simply enjoy the moment with you, focusing solely on you and your pleasure.

He wants to show his dedication to you in a tangible way. The medical studies and the test can wait, as he knows that he is currently with the girl he likes and he doesn't want to waste any time.

“Mmm— try to relax, dear… I’ll try to be thorough with you.” Zayne’s words made you quiver before you felt a finger slipping inside your pussy, making you gasp loudly. His fingers were long.

“Ah, yes, doctor… please…” You begged. All it would take from him was a little more of this and you would reach your peak. Almost immediately. But Zayne wants the moment to last longer. He used his finger just inside you to slide it around your opening and spread your arousal across your entire labia. Adding another finger, he penetrated even deeper and without warning, his digits crooked up and started to stroke your g-spot.

“Such a good study aid for me.” He sighed. “This soft spot here… it’s fascinating… does it feel good to you when I do this?” He made eye contact with you, your heart rate increasing rapidly. “Yes, when you do it, it feels so good.” You pant in between whimpers, subconsciously grinding your pussy on his hand. You find it so sweet and sexy of him to be checking and asking you these. He is reaching spots that you couldn’t with your own fingers.

“Ah— Zayne—” You almost screamed out when he placed a delicate kiss on your clit. You try to stifle a loud moan but it was too much to take. “May I try a more oral approach?” You stroke his hair and nod. Zayne’s cheeks flushed and attached his lips to your sensitive bud once more, closing his eyes as he sucked softly.

You tilt your head back, eyelids fluttering and trying to stay sane. Feeling it for the first time drives you to a new place; the sight of his head in between your legs, and the sounds from his lips truly sends you over.

He grips your thigh for support as he pushes his fingers deeper. He lifts one of your legs higher to slide more of his digits inside you, his mouth still latched on your clit and his tongue swiping your folds every now and then. You gasp and struggle against his strong arms.

“Mm—mmmh, you’re so good.” Zayne pulled away from your cunt and curled his digits on a different angle. His final touch sent you hurtling off the edge and your pussy erupted in a massive orgasm, your juices drenching his hand, making him gasp in response.

“I made you—”

“Yes, you did.” You whispered as your body kept quivering. He stepped back and you noticed the massive bulge straining in his trousers. “I think we need to do a more thorough internal exam, [ Y / N ]. Is that okay with you?” Zayne shyly pushed his glasses back up, a trace of your orgasm dropping down the lens.

You got up from the couch and held Zayne's hands, your bodies close together once more as you spoke. “From this point on, we have to learn together, because...it’ll be my first time doing this.,” You speak softly, looking into his eyes.

Zayne lightly stroked your cheek with confidence and certainty, his facial expression reflective of that. "Me too. Let's trust our feelings, okay?" He says. The mutual trust and willingness to follow your instincts is stronger now.

Zayne grabs her thighs and lifts her up in his arms, giving her a soft kiss. "Your room or mine?" He asks playfully, offering two choices. The ball is in Y/N's court, and he's giving her the chance to make the ultimate choice.

It doesn't matter. I want you. She answers confidently, making it clear that she's ready and willing to take things further and that she also wants him. Zayne nods and opts to bring it to your bedroom, giving you deep and slow kisses.

Zayne gently lays her down on the bed, kissing her gently and tenderly. Zayne keeps the kiss careful, as if he's being thoughtful and mindful of how delicate she might be feeling with what you are about to do.

"Do you...have protection?" You ask tentatively when you pull away, unsure of whether you should even say that out loud.

"Shit" He rarely curses, and that catches you off guard. He looks frustrated, and you can tell that he's annoyed by the situation. He says, "Well, since we're on the topic, I don't have any on me.."

"Don’t worry about that…I... have some." You shyly admit, letting him know that she does have protection, which puts his concerns to rest… for now.

A moment of relief for him as he took the box from your hand and saw that you had planned for protection. He took out his size, although he also questioned why you had these on hand.

Were you going to bring anyone else with you? An unusual sense of possessiveness surged to his neck, as though it were choking him. He fought out since he never wanted to think of you doing this with someone else but also didn't want to spoil the moment.

As if you had read his mind, you quickly tossed the box aside. “It’s not what you think!” you exclaimed, as you knew how this looked to him. “It’s a gag gift from Jenna for my last birthday.” You shyly admit.

You were cut off by Zayne's quiet laughter. “[ Y / N ], it’s okay, I believe you.” All traces of the dark possessiveness had vanished.

Zayne rises to his feet, his fingers making a descent down the front of his black shirt, slowly releasing each button as his eyes rake over your body. Parting your legs, you make space for him.

He removes the tie in the same unhurried fashion, seemingly content with his view of you. He shrugs out of the shirt sleeves, exposing curved biceps and defined pecs and abs. Then he crouches to remove his socks, never looking away.

You have such a keen sense of his proximity, the rhythm of his breaths, and the minute movements of his hands. It is rooted in the libido you get from being in his presence and is reinforced by the certainty that he will never let you down.

He moves as efficiently as possible, opening his slacks, releasing the belt, and shoving the remaining items of clothing onto the ground. His rock-hard body parts have been glimpsed in bits and pieces, but never all of him at once, fully nude.

His manhood lifts, protruding beyond the toned muscles on his v-line. He leans down with his eyes fixed on yours and an intense expression.

His eyes have a predatory look that makes you gasp. With his legs on the outside of yours, he crawls over you, straddling your thighs and prowling on hands and knees.

You were expecting him to pry open your legs and thrust between them, but he has consistently shown that he is not like the others.

With his mouth fused to yours, he hovers over you, caressing and fondling your thighs, chest, and hips with his hand. you can't breathe for how much his heavenly touches, heavy breathing, and passionate tongue drive you wild.

You tug at his shoulder, attempting to bring him closer. "Take off my dress, Zayne?"

Squeezing your thighs together, he uses both hands to remove the dress before lowering himself on top of you. His chest covers yours with muscle and heat while his eyes search your face as his weight presses you both into the mattress.

Your mouth opens to a delicious gasp, and he seizes it, his lips strong and aggressive, all his, his tongue sliding and claiming. His power acts as a shield, his large stature envelopes you, and his hands, seemingly in prayer, hold your face.

With your hips grinding greedily and your foreheads pressed together, you kiss through an infinite symphony of moans and heartbeats. Your bodies convulse in unison, holding the steely expanse of him in between you.

You squeeze your fingers around his cock, enjoying the sound of his strangled breath. His hips shift beneath you, his voice tortured. “Do you want to… top?” You nod without thinking twice.

In the next breath, he flips you, rolling you on top and folding your legs to straddle his hips. God, he's strong.

“I'll hold you. I'm going to lie and hold still until you tell me to move.” He softly strokes your hip. Until you gaze down at the huge, long cock rising up in front of you. Nervous energy trickles through your veins. You grip his shaft with both hands, stroking up and down, reacquainting yourself with his size. "Will it fit, Zayne?” Your breath rushes out.

“Mmhmm, we'll make it fit.” He chuckles softly and slides his palms up your torso, then plants a needy kiss on your lips.

You bend down and place a kiss over his temple, then you rise on your knees and help him put the condom on before positioning him between your legs.

True to his word, he doesn't thrust or move his hands. His eyes glow like a galaxy as he waits for you to draw him inside.

You lower onto him, inch by inch, marveling at the stretching sensation, the easy slide, the perfect fit. It's never this wet, this careful. You felt so full. Hungry. Relieved.

The sound of his guttural groan spurs you faster. When he's all the way in, you squeeze your inner muscles around him.

Zayne’s eyes clamped shut, muscles flexing in his jaw, his body relaxed beneath you. His eyes are shut. "Zayne?"

A throaty grunt is the only response he gives, charging your already overloaded senses with giddiness. And you haven't even moved yet.

You lean forward and press my lips to the ridge of his tense chest, then take off his glasses so he could be more comfortable. "This is it. We're doing it."

His eyes fly open, and he releases a satisfied chuckle. “Are we?” His hands tighten around your hips, his glare hard and demanding. "Fuck me, [ Y / N ]."

You were surprised by his sudden desperate and lewd display of affection. You roll your hips, testing the feel of him sliding against your insides and filling you with jolts of static.

His entire body trembles beneath you. “[ Y / N ]...” He wanted to move.

With your palms on his chest, you rotate along his shaft, lifting and rocking. The dragging, tickling strokes are unreal. The little shocks of electricity, the panting sounds of our breaths, everything centers around where you're joined.

You let loose, lifting your arms behind your head, closing your eyes, and circling your hips. When you bounce, your breasts press against his chest and the bed frame creaks. When you rock, your clit convulses.

“[ Y / N ]...” The headboard groans on his back.

You open your eyes and collide with his, a smile pulling at your cheeks. "You’re…good." You kiss his nose.

"God, [ Y / N ]." His biceps flex around your body, his thighs hardening beneath you. "I've never felt so…good."

“Move, Zayne. You can move…” You say and slide up his chest and thrust your hips, delighting in the feeling of the new angle. When you reach his lips, his tongue seeks yours, twirling and tasting.

If he wasn't your roommate and hadn't known him since childhood, you wouldn't believe that this is the first time he's felt the touch of a woman.

His kisses strengthen the brewing tide inside you. You sweep your hands over his biceps and cup his face. He deepens the kiss, the strong stretch of his jaw as erotic as the sinful way he glides his tongue.

With your hands on his face, you kiss him fiercely, passionately, while working your pussy up and down his length, while he dabbles with gentle thrusts.

"It's tight…" He grunts softly when you squeezed him with your pelvic muscles just to reinforce that side of things for him. It felt so naughty to be fucking your hot friend right in your bed. You could hear his cock sliding in and out of your slick tunnel with every thrust.

"I can make you feel better." You panted. Sliding a hand between your legs, you began to play with yourclit, knowing that it would make you squeeze and cum. The combination made your back arch hard and made you have to bite down on Zayne’s lips to stifle a loud moan.

"Come for me again..." He groaned softly, eyes fluttering close. And you did, your entire cunt contracting and you felt yourself squirt all over his cock, puddling out of your pussy and onto your bedsheets. He closed his eyes and you could feel your muscles milking his impressive dick into an orgasm.

When he opened then he met yours and it was almost primal the way he was looking at you— like you were the hottest woman he'd ever seen. His hips sped up and you feel yourself being pushed to another orgasm.

With one last thrust, his throbbing cock and fills up the condom, cock still balls deep inside you. The thick white stream kept coming as he gripped your hips and gasped silently.

"[ Y / N ]..." he gripped his cock and pulled out, stroking it, then pushing out the last few drops of his load.

“So Zayne, did you learn anything?" Your breath was coming in short pants. You let a finger trail down his abs while you both recovered from your highs. "I think you were quite thorough." His eyes followed your finger and you watched his muscles twitch before taking off the protection and tossing it to the trash can.

"I've learned a lot. Definitely." He gently lay you on his side and put your hair aside. He surprised you by grabbing your face and pulling you in for a soft kiss.

"Are you feeling okay?" Zayne asks, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable and pleased.

“Yes, you?”

"Yes, I am." You respond as he smiles down at you, adoring the way you brush the raven curtain from his face.

"Want me to change the sheets?" Zayne offered, wanting to make sure you had a comfortable sleeping environment. "No, stay, please..." The way you insisted him to stay, the way you wanted to not end the moment, made his stomach flutter in a different way entirely.

"But, can we sleep in your bed?" You look up at him with puppy eyes and he cannot resist that sight.

He smiles back and accepts your request, "Of course.” Zayne scoops you up in his arms and covers you with a blanket to keep you sheltered and warm from feeling exposed.

You lay together in bed and he holds you close against him, your head resting against his chest as your body lies next to his. "Comfy?" he says as he gently grabs your hand and kisses it.

"Very," He can feel your soft and sweet kisses on his neck, and he enjoys the warmth of your body as curled up next to him.

"Tomorrow... let me take you out for breakfast." Zayne says, kissing your forehead softly as he asks.

"How about your exam?" You ask, mentioning his test.

"It won't be until noon…” Zayne strokes your back. “Maybe we can squeeze in a last minute review too?"

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #li shen #zayne x reader #zayne x reader smut #lds #lads zayne #lads #l&ds #l&ds zayne #l&ds x reader #love & deepspace

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redgoldsparks · 2 months ago

Text

When I was in Japan, I decided to text some friends pictures of the drinks I was trying with short reviews. This was a very fun way to keep them updated with a bit of what I was doing on my trip when I didn’t have time to fully relay every single detail. It also inspired me to try a wider range of drinks than I might have otherwise! I’m vegetarian, so there was a lot of Japanese food that I couldn’t try. Ordering a drink with every meal was a way to experience some new-to-me flavors. While I was in Maine my zine-scholar friend @korimicheleok challenged me to draw a whole zine during our short visit and this is the result! I also had a lot of cups of 7/10 green and black tea, but I wanted to highlight some of the standouts. I’m mailing copies of this zine to my $15 and up patreon backers this week, and I'll bring it to Geek Girl Con in November :)

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my books

#zine #maia kobabe #comics #japan #travel comics

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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months ago

Note

hii, I wish to request a Willy Wonka x reader 😭🙏 where reader doesn’t like chocolate at all because it’s too cloying, so Wonka tries to make the right candy (or chocolate) to give it to the reader at Christmas Eve (he wanted to gave reader a small gift before Christmas day, like a form of confessing his feelings to the reader). And reader also prepares a small gift to Wonka bc they also want to confess their feelings to him

Reader can be gender neutral, or however you want

English isn’t my first language so sorry any grammar mistakes, also sorry if I didn’t explain myself well

have a good day and thanks for reading 😭🫶💐

The Bittersweet Gift of Love [W. W]

Willy Wonka x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

note: don't worry! English is not my first language either. I have to admit that writing with neutral readers is always a challenge for me because I translate my texts directly, but I think this time it's a decent thing. I hope you like it!!

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

What could a chocolatier give to a person who didn't like chocolate? That was the question Willy had been asking himself for the past few weeks.

You hadn't specifically said that you didn't like chocolate, rather it was a matter of not liking the excessively sweet or sticky taste that some had. That is, most of the chocolates he made.

“Maybe it's just that you haven't found the right flavor,” he had told you once, while the two of you were talking.

And he was quite convinced of that, even thinking that if he managed to make something special for you maybe he would earn some affection from you. It would be as if he gave you a certain part of himself, so that you could make it yours.

So it was that Wonka, after reflecting a lot, decided to try all kinds of combinations until he found one good enough to satisfy you. Christmas was approaching and he believed that the occasion would be perfect not only to give you the present, but also to take an important step for which he had not yet had the courage: he wanted to confess his feelings for you.

The man didn't know much about love, however, he knew that he liked you a lot and he wanted you to know it. It was just that he was pretty nervous about it and he hoped everything would turn out as perfect as possible, after all, you deserved it.

Christmas Eve came when he was least expecting it and then it was time to dress in shades of green and red to attend the party that the Smith family would throw, as a thank-you to everyone after Dorothy had heard what the entire group did for help Noodle when she needed it most.

Willy put a lot of effort into buying, with some of the few coins he had left, a cute outfit appropriate to the occasion that he combined with his characteristic coat. When he was in front of the library door he felt the little purple box in his hands extremely heavy and he thought it would be a better idea to put it in his pocket, or else you would realize ahead of time the surprise he had for you.

“Mr. Wonka,” Dorothy greeted, as she opened the door “Come in, come in. It's freezing outside”

“Good night, Mrs. Smith,” he murmured cordially, removing his hat and placing it on a rack in the entryway. Apparently he was the last to arrive, since everyone else was already talking happily in the room.

Of course his eyes went directly to you, who was wearing a green sweater that highlighted your beautiful skin tone and you already had a huge smile on your pink lips from the cold.

“It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka,” said Abacus, being the first to speak “Sit over here.”

He smiled internally at the good fortune that the place the man had left him was right next to you and when you gave him a look, he felt himself blush.

“Hi,” he murmured shyly.

"Hello! I'm so glad you could come."

“I would never miss it,” he responded smilingly. His knees collided with yours and suddenly your warmth seemed to invade him as well, perhaps because of the closeness, but also because of the overflowing love he felt for you “How are you?”

With this question you began a pleasant and private conversation, which developed between close whispers and giggles that made him increasingly nervous. The others didn't mind too much that you didn't participate in the general talks, as they knew that certain unresolved matters probably needed time.

You ate the delicious dinner that the family had prepared, you drank punch, you sang some Christmas carols and when the night had advanced enough you returned to your previous place, although now with fewer people around.

“This is so nice, I love Christmas. The atmosphere is always so homely and warm” you said, with your eyes resting on the simple tree that adorned the room.

It was almost midnight and the others were in the kitchen sorting through some of the cookies that Noodle had put there an hour ago, which only left you and the chocolatier in the living room.

“I guess I believe you, your eyes are literally shining now,” he said happily. He felt like sliding his hand into yours and this time, steeling himself, he didn't hold back. You flinched slightly when you felt that.

“What are you doing?”

“I have something for you,” he breathed, feeling strangely excited by what he was about to do “It's a gift.”

“Oh, Willy,” you responded, a bit incredulously, as you bent down to grab something from your bag on the floor. “I have something for you, too.”

He chuckled when he saw the box lined with bright red and a purple bow decorating it, since it was a pleasant coincidence that you had also prepared something for him.

“But don't tell anyone, because he didn't bring gifts for the others,” you added, quietly, and then he helped you up, still holding onto your hand.

"Come with me"

He led you to an empty room and he closed the door behind you, hoping he only needed enough minutes to not raise suspicions among the rest of the guests. You were nervously holding the gift, with both hands now that he had let go of you.

“Okay, listen. I wanted to do something special for you today,” he began to explain, as he pulled the box out of his pocket. “And I also added, uh… a note. You don't have to read it now or anything, but it says something in it that I want you to know."

“You're starting to scare me,” you stammered, obviously nervous. Willy was going to ask what you meant until he saw you take a small envelope out of your pocket, which you placed on the red paper. “Because I have the same thing for you.”

He stumbled a little at the second coincidence of the night and he wondered what your note could be about. He knew that he had written a little poem confessing how he felt about you, but... what if you were just wishing him a Merry Christmas? He was going to look like a complete fool.

“You can read mine in a more… private place if you feel comfortable. Maybe alone,” he suggested, though he knew it was more for his comfort than yours.

“Huh, how about we just open the gifts and leave the notes for later? I wouldn't want you to read mine now either” you murmured, just as shy as him.

Willy agreed and you extended your gift in his direction, hinting that he would be the first to open. He undid the bow, carefully, and then opened the box, revealing a beautiful scarf.

“Wow, I…”

"Do you like it? I made it myself”

“I don't believe you,” he said immediately, looking even more surprised. “It's beautiful, I really love it. Thank you so much"

He wasted no time and placed the garment around his neck. Curiously, it matched the rest of his outfit.

"It looks pretty"

“Mine is also a gift made by me. Feel free to tell me if you don’t like it, I… I’ll understand, okay?” you looked a little confused at that and then he took out the piece of chocolate, carefully placed inside the box “I know you don't like chocolate, but I don't think anyone should live without consuming such a great delicacy. So I made you this, because it doesn't have those things that you don't like. It's... different, but I hope you like it”

With some shyness he offered you the sweet and you put it in your mouth, under his watchful eye during the process. You tasted what he had offered you: it was a little bitter, but not in that way that makes your head hurt or leaves a bad taste on your palate, but with just the right touch. It was firm and didn't melt in your mouth, but decent enough to chew on. And finally, it had a touch of something indecipherable to you, but that gave it a certain exotic flavor that was pleasant to your senses.

He, without knowing everything you were experiencing, kept looking at you because he wanted to analyze your reaction to know what you really thought, and luckily your reaction showed agreement with what your chocolate lips said:

“It is the best chocolate I have ever tasted”

Willy felt that like the greatest compliment in the world and he couldn't help a smile crossing his face, satisfied with himself for having achieved his goal, but above all for seeing the happy expression on your face.

“You will never have to eat chocolates you don't like again, I have a jar full of these just for you. They will even bear your name."

It was inevitable not to take a step towards him to hug him and the boy, although at first he seemed surprised, soon responded to you.

“No one had ever done anything like this for me. I appreciate it a lot"

“Well, it's my Christmas gift. I wanted it to be something special,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating in time with yours “Merry Christmas, Y/N”

“Merry Christmas, Willy,” you said. The note in his hand felt extremely heavy and he was eager to read it, but he knew he would have to wait a while.

Suddenly you heard Noodle calling your names and you got out of there before anyone else noticed your absence, which worked because the girl was walking around the hallway when you were closing the door.

“It's going to be midnight, come here,” she said and you obeyed.

Dorothy revealed that she had a small present for each person and you began to look under the tree, eager to find out what would be in those little boxes. It wasn't something very ostentatious, but you were grateful anyway.

So, when no one was looking, you ran to the bathroom to finally read whatever he had written to you, hoping it wasn't as embarrassing as the confession you had made. You were stunned to learn the content and for a moment you feared you were dreaming, but you weren't.

When you left you knew well what your intentions were and your heart stopped for a moment when you noticed that Willy was nowhere to be seen, until Lottie told you that she had seen him heading to the kitchen. You rushed over and when you opened the door you noticed that he was about to do the same, with a bright expression on his face.

A second later he had already pulled you inside and without saying another word, he kissed you.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #willy wonka x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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zlebooks · 2 years ago

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𓂃 alhaitham + pineapples on pizza .

alhaitham’s love language is giving you the pineapples on his pizza and him eating what’s leftover.

alhaitham doesn’t like pineapples on his pizza— you noticed.

whenever you call for a thirty minute break from the study group you invited him to (read: you and the scholar are the only members of the said “study group”), he’d always order a pizza.

he claims that it’s easy to eat, and it’s what doordash is for— plus as college students, it was sometimes the cheapest thing on the menu.

every time you’re seated on the ground, facing his coffee table, you never fail to notice how he picks at the pineapples on his pizza. this occurrence then leads to him eating a literal triangular bread with tomato sauce because all the toppings came off along with the pineapples. he eats it nonchalantly, not bothered by the pitiful state of his slice of pizza— if you can even call it that— as he highlights the text he’s reading.

“why do you keep ordering hawaiian for us when you don’t even like it?”

“because you prefer it.” the other responds in a straightforward manner, not even looking up from his textbook.

it’s during moments like this did you wish that alhaitham is aware of your trickery and why it’s only him that shows up during the study group sessions you arrange. you hope that the reason why he’s putting up with your obvious deceit is because he might be just as equally as interested as you.

“but what about what you like?” you ask once again, and this time, alhaitham finally takes a glance at you.

he focuses his gaze on the slice your holding, raising an eyebrow at it before looking back at you. “it’s not like you get to think about what i like when you’re obviously enjoying the abundance of toppings on yours.”

you feel heat creeping up your cheeks, ah right— whenever alhaitham takes off the toppings on his pizza, he directly puts them on yours. you don’t give it any meaning though! you were sure alhaitham is the type of guy that hates seeing food go to waste.

“i can eat other pizza flavors too you know…” grumbling, you turn the page of your book, “i can eat cheese or pepperoni.”

“you don’t like those flavors because you think they taste salty.”

your heart does a somersault— he remembers.

“of course i do. you turned it into your whole personality.” he grunts.

you’re positive that your temperature has gone over the roof and you look exactly like the tomato soup the pizzeria uses.

“h-hey! in my defense… they’re really salty to the point i’m going to get kidney stones just from eating them.” you manage to stammer out and your study buddy snorts at your exaggeration.

“well, it’s a good thing that i keep ordering hawaiian— need to keep the kidney healthy,” he pauses, putting his cheek on his palm as he smirks. “we have you to thank.”

“i can’t help but to notice… are you teasing me?”

the other can’t help but to chuckle directly in his fist, and if he managed to catch your frown, he failed to comment on it. shrugging, he replies, “am i now?” alhaitham buries his head into his book once again, “i can’t help but to notice that you aren’t doing any studying in our… study group.” heavy emphasis on the last words, your heart beats loudly against your chest as the thought of him knowing your shameful secret runs through your head.

the scholar notices this of course— nothing gets past from his watchful gaze. he wants to watch you further squirm in your current position, oh how cute were you to joke around with. it almost compensates for the moments he had to fill his stomach with nothing but topless pizzas.

“next time, maybe don’t bother inviting me to your study group. after all, you never ask anyone else but me.” alhaitham hums acting as if he were deep in his thoughts, “oh i know, ask me on a date instead.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #genshin head canons #genshin fluff #genshin angst #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham imagines #al haitham oneshots #al haitham head canons #al haitham fluff #al haitham angst

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f6bron · 11 months ago

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delicate lilac.

pairing : badboy!iso x soft!gn!reader

notes : bad boy x sunshine trope, mutual-pining but both of them are unaware of it, potential friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff >.<

The campus buzzed with energy as students hurriedly moved from one class to another. Among the sea of people, Li Zhao Yu, also known as Iso, stood out—an enigmatic figure with a formidable reputation that sent shivers through many.

Yet, beneath the intimidating facade, a softer side existed, one that only revealed itself in the presence of one person.

And that's you, Y/N L/N.

As the two of you and your friends strolled through the campus, Iso couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy bubbling within him as he watched you interact with your friends. Laughter filled the air, and Iso's eyes followed the movement of your lips as you spoke animatedly.

Your plump cherry lips, soft skin, and the way the sun highlighted your features. He longed for the day he could receive a similar treatment from you.

"Must be nice," he thought, unconsciously fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

"Iso?" you called, snapping him back to reality.

Stammering, caught off guard by your sudden attention, he replied, "Y-yeah?"

You let out a tiny giggle, a sound that made warmth creep up onto Iso's face. "What were you daydreamin' about?"

"Oh, nothing. I… I was just thinking about–" Iso fumbled over his words, nervousness taking over. Are you being for real, Iso?! This is not you!

Before he could realize it, you slipped a piece of candy into his rough and calloused hands—a stark contrast between your soft and delicate hands and his rugged ones.

"Huh?" he questioned, giving you a puzzled look.

"You said you wanted a strawberry-flavoured candy," you reminded him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Iso could feel warmth engulfing his heart, not expecting you to remember the tiny details he mentioned during the casual conversation you guys had on your way to class.

"Don't tell anyone, but… I kinda stole it from Jett."

"Really… for me?" Iso asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah! For you!" you replied, causing Iso to chuckle. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

"Thanks…"

"All right, lovebirds! Enough of that," Phoenix interjected from behind, placing his hands on both Iso's and your shoulders. "We gotta get movin'."

"We're not—"

"Whatever," Phoenix shrugged, cutting Iso off.

"See you at the cafeteria later." he said, winking at you before leaving. Iso sent a harsh glare to Phoenix, the audacity for him to wink at you.

He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Take care, Y/N. Text me after you're done with your classes, okay?"

Iso sighed internally, wishing he could be there for you 24/7.

You nodded shyly before joining the rest of your friends to head to class. "Mhm… you too."

Even though Iso is a notorious class-skipper, up to everyone's surprise, he has been showing up to lectures lately. It's all because he couldn't resist the charm of Y/N's pout.

The thought of being the cause of that disappointed expression wrecks his heart a bit. He would trade his soul if it means seeing that cute smile of yours, and to get complimented by you.

Iso caught up and walked alongside Phoenix, still holding the strawberry-flavored candy you gave him earlier. Phoenix shot him a knowing look. "If you're gonna play pretend, just give up."

"Huh?"

"Are you being for real, lad?" Phoenix nudged Iso's shoulder. "You never look so ‘down bad’ over a person." Iso sighed, finally getting the point.

"Is it too obvious?" Iso replied, popping the candy into his mouth effortlessly.

"Yeah, too obvious. ‘Saw how a love shape starts forming in your eyes as soon as Y/N appears in your sight." Phoenix teased, smirking.

Iso chuckled, the image of adorable you started playing in his mind. Not like you’ll ever leave it anyway.

"Come on, man. You can't blame me. Y/N is too cute to resist."

(A/N): THIS LOOKS RUSHED IM SORRY anyways im thinking of turning badboy!iso into a series but we'll see...

delicate who? | masterlist.

#f6bron #— rumi drabbles . . .#— iso drabbles . . .#li zhao yu #iso x reader #valorant iso x reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant imagines #valorant headcanons #iso x y/n

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markrosewater · 3 months ago

Note

I'm not sure when it started, but you've mentioned in a few articles now that you guys have been trying to increase "resonance" in the rules text. This has led to several new mechanics with very specific, very flavorful names like "collect evidence" or "commit a crime" or most recently, "manifest dread" and "that door unlocks". After a year or so of giving this design direction a chance, I think I'm ready to say I don't really like it.

Now, I want to be clear I'm just talking about how these mechanics are named. Most of these mechanics play well, and aren't hard to understand once they've been explained. But there's like a half-second delay on most new mechanics where I'm like "what does that even mean" followed shortly by "oh, okay" after reading the reminder text.

That half of a second might not seem significant, and it probably isn't, but I still want to express my annoyance with it.

First and foremost, I don't think these names actually make the mechanics more flavorful like they're suppose to. If anything, they have the opposite effect. You can tell me I'm "collecting evidence" or "manifesting dread" or whatever, but if I can't intuit the connection between the mechanic and the flavor, I'm just going to end up more confused than immersed.

Secondly, in a world of eternal design, I feel like these names make mechanics more fragmented and segregated than they are. If I want to build a deck around face-down cards, there are now like 5 or 6 different keywords I need to cross-reference. You can't reprint or reuse a mechanic like "gift a fish" without extremely specific flavor considerations.

I'm sympathetic because I know new mechanics are a big part of why people get excited about new sets, and a lot of players don't recognize new mechanics as new mechanics unless you highlight them with a name. My dislike also exists on a spectrum-- "manifest dread" sticks in my craw more than "that room unlocks", for example, and I don't really know the difference. I don't have clever ideas how to solve this problem; I just want to complain about something that bugs me.

Thank you for your time.

We specifically called it manifest dread to convey it's very similar to manifest, but slightly different. We thought that would help over giving it a brand new name. That also lets us care about things that have been manifested and count both mechanics.

I am receptive to the note of trying to find balance between making things feel new and playing with old things. It's one of the biggest challenges in designing for eternal formats.

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seoulmatez · 1 year ago

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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒞𝐻𝐸𝐸𝑅 𝒰𝒫 𝒞𝒜𝒩𝒟𝒴

info ⭑ suna rintaro x reader. 1.4 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ reader is a bit sad

note ⭑ inspired by a scene from the webtoon comic act like you love me!

there’s a guy who comes into your work every wednesday—after the rush of high schoolers who stop by following their tutoring sessions but before it’s late enough for you to clock out and call it a night. he hums in acknowledgment every time you offer him a cordial, customer service “welcome” when you hear the motion sensor bell ring. his movements are predictable now and, as much as you try not to, you catch yourself following him with your eyes as he strolls down one aisle where he grabs a bag of jelly candies (the flavor alternates every week) until he disappears behind the tall, stocked shelves. he always emerges by the fridges where he grabs his usual energy drink before making his way to the counter.

over the span of the past several weeks, the formal utterances you’re required to deliver have evolved into fledglings of conversations. the phrase “did you find everything okay?” is eventually ditched and traded in for more personable questions, ones having to do with his choice of candy or the character printed on his hoodie. he smiles when you ask—not the kind that meets his eyes, but a genuine one nonetheless. when you hand him his change, he’s always sure to tell you thank you and offers a two-fingered wave before taking his leave.

the interactions between the two of you give you a short moment highlighted by something other than boredom during the five-hour shifts. he’s far from a friend, barely an acquaintance, hell, you’re not even sure what his name is—all you know is that you like seeing him.

today should be no different. it’s wednesday, it’s after ten, and the store is deafeningly quiet—too quiet for your liking, truly. you normally wouldn’t mind listening to the low of whispers the refrigerators and fluorescent lights, but the silence allows your mind to wander and it keeps going back to that godforsaken text; one that you wouldn’t have seen until after work if you had kept your phone in the back like you were supposed to.

we should break up. things aren’t working anymore.

“what an asshole,” you say out loud to yourself, wiping the stray tear from your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. the prick didn’t even have the decency to do it properly—to say it to your face. he’s not worth wasting your tears on, at least, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself for the past ten minutes. but it’s easier said than done. no matter how much you want to be unaffected by this, you’re hurt.

you would have been better off leaving your stupid phone in that stupid, unused breakroom.

you can feel another wave of sadness coming on as the automated bell chirps, signaling the arrival of a customer. with a deep, shaky breath, you turn your head in the opposite direction of the door to hide your tear-streaked face. you’re too busy hurriedly dabbing away at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt that you forget to greet the customer—the one that happens to be your favorite regular. that much doesn’t go unnoticed by suna.

the absence of your typical “welcome!” makes the corner of his lips turn down. it’s worrying, he thinks, how reserved you are tonight. he used to find your enthusiastic greetings a little strange—how could someone be so chipper working the night shift as a cashier? but now given its absence, suna is starting to realize that, at some point, he’d gotten used to it. he’d even go as far as saying he prefers it.

his grayish-yellow gaze lingers on you as he makes his way down the aisle filled with sweets, but you never meet his eye. reluctantly, he looks away from you to what he came here for. his eyes scan over the selection of jelly candies in search of which flavor he wants this week. he usually picks whatever he has a taste for, but some other factor is swaying his judgment. his hand comes to hover over the lychee ones—he’s sure you said those ones were your favorite. lithe fingers pluck the pack from its box before he’s off to get his drink.

he can see you through the glass of the fridge door as he aimlessly reaches for the cold can. your head is tipped down, eyes glued to the counter in front of you. that’s weird, too, he thinks, fingers finally grazing the tab on one of the cans. on any other day he comes in, you’re mindlessly staring off into space or not-so-discreetly scrolling on your phone. suna knows it’s probably not his place to think so, but something’s definitely wrong.

he knows that much, but isn’t quite sure what to do about it.

nothing, he supposes. you’re not his friend—he’s a customer and you’re an employee. he has no obligation to do anything about your dampened mood, so why is he thinking so hard about how he can cheer you up?

suna tries to shake the thoughts from his head as he approaches you at the checkout. he sets his things on the counter, unknowingly staring you down to see if you’ll make eye contact with him. he’s almost sure you won’t but, surprisingly, you drag your eyes up from the surface to meet his.

they’re puffy and red, like you’ve been crying.

suna isn’t well-known for his ability to comfort others. in fact, he’s incredibly awkward around people when they cry—and you’re no exception. is it better to ask what’s wrong or try and help take your mind off whatever’s bothering you? he doesn’t know the answer to that question, so he simply musters up a tight-lipped smile, one he’s sure is a little inappropriate given the circumstances, but he’s not sure what else to do. you offer him what you think is a smile in return, but all suna sees is the slight wobble of your lips.

the scanner in your hand beeps twice before you read out the price from the screen ahead of you. suna fumbles around his pocket for the money he had stuffed in there earlier. the thousand yen banknote he passes to you is a bit crumpled and you would have laughed if you weren’t feeling so pathetic. the register rings as you open it to fish out the money you owe him.

closing the drawer with one hand, you hold out his change with the other. suna is stuffing the currency back into the pocket of his hoodie when you speak for the first time since he had come in. “have a nice night.”

the familiar sound of your voice, despite its scratchiness, causes suna to perk up. though, his shoulders slump when he realizes you’ve ducked down to busy yourself with something behind the counter. his feet feel like blocks of concrete, weighed down to this spot. he can’t leave without doing anything. he knows that you’d likely prefer to be alone right now, but he only needs to stick around for a few seconds longer before he’s out of your hair.

you don’t rise from your crouched position until you hear the automated bell that signals the man’s departure ring. hiding away after ringing him up might have been a little unprofessional but the thought of crying in front of him was too humiliating for you to even risk letting it happen.

you sniffle as you stuff your hands into the pockets of your uniform vest, eyes wandering to focus on anything but the source of your sorrow. unconsciously, you tilt your head down to look at the counter. there are pops of color against the white surface; four individually wrapped lychee jelly candies—the same kind that guy had just bought. your favorite.

you peek out the window to see if he’s out of sight yet. you’re relieved to see he hasn’t made it far, maybe a couple squares down the sidewalk. his hood is pulled over his head now but you’d never be able to miss those eyes. with a grin plastered on his face, he points at you and then tips his chin up with the same finger. keep your chin up.

in his other hand, the pack of candy he’s holding is torn at the corner.

your eyes begin to water as you breathe out a laugh, your lips tugging up for the first time tonight since you’d read that text. the tears threatening to spill over your lashline aren’t the same as the ones you had already shed—they’re tears of gratitude, the kind you cry when you can’t effectively express how thankful you are through words.

swallowing the lump in your throat, you pull one of your fists out of the pocket it resides in, sticking your thumb up and mouthing a silent “thank you.”

hihi~ sua here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna x you #haikyuu x you #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna drabble #haikyuu drabbles #suna imagines #haikyuu imagines #suna scenarios #haikyuu scenarios

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incorrect-mtg · 2 months ago

Text

Flavor Text Highlights - Kamigawa: Neon Dynasty + Commander Precons

<- Previous Set | Next Set ->

Cool - Peerless Samurai

“I fear I have run out of worthy opponents.”

Funny - Enthusiastic Mechanaut

“Greetings, fellow inventors!” the akki shouted, attempting a friendly smile. To her dismay, the greeting was met only with shrieks and alarms being activated.

Worldbuilding - The transformed side of the Age/Era Cycle (The Shattered States Era, Era of Enlightenment, The Modern Age)

“In the wake of the Kami War, Kamigawa descended into a state of constant warfare. Even with Kyodai’s wisdom guiding them, it took the first Imperials decades of work and bloodshed to subdue the clans and bring peace to the land.” —History of the Empire

“We have endured lifetimes of war and carved our way to peace by blade and conquest. Now, united at last under Kyodai’s guidance, we lay down our weapons and open our minds.” —Aoha, general of the First Emperor

It drifted from the spirit realm into a neon world full of new possibilities … and decided to stay.

Emotional - Yoshimaru, Ever Faithful

Day after day he sat there, knowing that the Wanderer would soon be back for him.

<- Previous Set | Next Set ->

#magic the gathering #flavor text highlights #kamigawa neon dynasty

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lucky-clover-gazette · 5 months ago

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kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 2

(easily the most chaotic commentary i've done so far)

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

CHAPTER TWO

okay so this is the first of two laurent pov chapters we ever get, and it’s an intense torture/interrogation scene. this works SO well with the “laurent is in a different genre” bit. like the reader is not only getting his perspective, but the entire vibe just shifts. damen is a passing thought. this is a psychological thriller now, full stop, for this chapter. for the first time in the series, a first-time reader gets an idea that laurent is living a totally different flavor of reality than they’ve been reading. it’s genius to put this here and now, right before the reveal, as we’re scrambling to put everything together and hurting emotionally on damen’s behalf. like, fuck the emotions and romance, we’re doing a gritty torture scene. because that’s just how it is for laurent on this bitch of an earth, as a result of his own ridiculous choices and in general

Laurent woke slowly, in dim light, to the sensation of restriction, his hands tied behind his back. Throbbing at the base of his skull let him know he had been hit over the head. Something was also inconveniently and intrusively wrong with his shoulder. It was dislocated.

oh you know i’m annotating every little detail of this man’s internal narrative. for two scenes i get to be inside laurent’s brain and i am taking every opportunity to document things about his way of thinking that are outside of damen's perception. this is cs pacat allowing me to learn things about the way laurent's mind works, that can re-contextualize the entire rest of the series. i am calling these details, which i would not be able to ascertain if not for a single chapter being from laurent's pov, “cool laurent facts.”

cool laurent fact #1: laurent orients himself in a new situation first and foremost based on the current state of his own person—physical, mental, emotional—and his surroundings. from that, he uses inductive reasoning to understand what is going on.

inductive reasoning is a method of thought that typically goes from specific and limited observation to general conclusion. from what we know of laurent, the idea of him using inductive reasoning on a regular basis makes a lot of sense. laurent might be "mr. probably" who does random insane shit, but the truth is that laurent thinks through almost all of his random insane shit before he does it. the exceptions to this are almost always narratively significant, and they happen when laurent's emotions overwhelm his ability to reason things through at all.

so, like, in this quote: "throbbing at the base of his skull let him know he had been hit over the head." the observation is the physical pain, specifically at the base of his skull. the conclusion is that he was hit in the head. it's a reasonable general conclusion, even if it could potentially be correct.

then we have "something was also inconveniently and intrusively wrong with his shoulder. it was dislocated." observation: shoulder is not working as intended, and in fact is so dysfunctional that it's intrusive. conclusion: it's dislocated.

the entire time, as laurent is thinking these things, he isn't actually DOING anything. and this, i think, is what tends to drive damen (and the attentive reader) insane, because with the exception of these alternate pov chapters, we don't actually get to live in laurent's head. while we know that laurent is thinking things through almost all of the time, our confusion comes with the fact that we can't even begin to guess WHAT laurent is thinking. and since laurent thinks before he acts, we are usually forced to reverse-engineer how the fuck he got to the conclusion AFTER the resulting action has actually been taken. and that is exactly why my annotations about laurent are the way they are in the first place.

so what happens when laurent gets it wrong? because laurent's observations are ultimately limited, and he prefers to come to a conclusion before acting, any flawed conclusions he makes can lead to immense miscalculations. to someone like damen, these miscalculations are both frustrating and avoidable, because damen is much more likely to use deductive reasoning instead.

deductive reasoning uses pre-existing general premises to come to specific conclusions. we see it a lot in damen's pov, in which the things he "knows" about the world are what often inform the action he takes. these aren't personal and specific ideas, but extant generalized theories and conclusions, which are then either proven correct or incorrect once tested. in general, this means that damen tends to act first and think second—the opposite of laurent. it's pretty obvious how this can be to damen's detriment, especially since we read the series almost entirely in his pov. a good overarching example of his deductive reasoning is the way his perspective on akielion slavery shifts throughout the series. he starts out in book 1 believing that there is honor in submission, slavery is a pact, slaves are consenting, and all slave owners uphold standards of "decency" just as he himself does. but then as damen interacts more with the world of slaves and pets, and is made a slave himself, he realizes that those conclusions were incorrect. then he assumes a new conclusion—slavery is an irredeemable institution—and acts based on that instead.

the strength of damen's deductive reasoning, compared to laurent's inductive reasoning, is the adaptability it allows. damen gets shit done when it needs to be done. he might get it done in a way that's messy or artless, lacking all of the pertinent details to do it perfectly, but his ability to apply a theory to a situation and then play it out is a great counterpoint to laurent's general approach, in which things are overthought so thoroughly that action is not taken in a timely or responsive manner. like, we literally see that in the wall grate scene in prince's gambit, which is then referenced again while they're discussing war strategy.

of course, this isn't to say that laurent's inductive reasoning isn't also adaptable. he can adapt to a situation by thinking really hard about it, drawing a conclusion, and then making his move. it's just distinctively different to read that kind of internal process from him as a pov character, compared to damen's typical way of thinking. it's part of this genre shift, i think, because it's so stressful and meticulous. this is thriller/crime/mystery genre thinking, not romance novel or war/action novel thinking. we have gone from a pov character who is like 70% impulse-driven, to a character who in his right mind wouldn't even consider following an impulse unless it was thoroughly thought through, at which point it would fail to be an impulse at all. damen is built to be a romantic lead and action hero. i can't really think of literary examples because i don't read a lot of romance and action books, but idk, disney's hercules or adora from she-ra come to mind. meanwhile laurent is built to be in a gillian flynn or [insert more niche thriller authors i enjoy] novel.

all that is to say, this isn't damen's mind anymore, and we know it from the first few sentences of the chapter. if this chapter was being experienced by damen instead, i think the opening would go something like this: "damen woke to the sensation of restriction and immediately fought against his restraints. he was not able to free himself. he also realized, in his attempt and failure to free himself, that his shoulder was dislocated."

it seems like a minor difference, and maybe it is. but i find it fun to contrast the narrative perspectives of these two fascinating characters, and i like making my own observations and conclusions. i started my annotations back in books 1 and 2 with mostly inductive reasoning, making theories from my observations, but farther into book 2 and definitely in book 3 i can now use deductive reasoning to draw conclusions about characters and events using pre-existing theories. if i'm wrong, i adjust the theory, and that adjusted theory becomes the basis through which i interpret future events. and so on. the two types of thought work beautifully together, and ideally we should all be able to use both. that's part of why damen and laurent are able to help each other grow so much as people and leaders—they're balancing each other out by mutual exposure to opposing ways of thinking.

also, another little note on this specific passage: i love laurent's snarky dismissive attitude towards his own pain, and the hint of dissociation from his physical form. i would guess that laurent thinks in a similar way about pleasurable physical sensations, too: "something was inconveniently and distractingly happening with his body. he was aroused." fuckin weirdo <3

As his lashes fluttered and his body stirred, he became hazily aware of a stale odour, and a chilled temperature that suggested that he was underground. His intellect made increasing sense of this: there had been an ambush, he was underground, and since his body didn’t feel as if it had been transported for days, that meant— He opened his eyes and met the flat-nosed stare of Govart.

i love when i predict/analyze something in detail and then it’s immediately proven correct by the following lines. laurent going on this whole inductive mind journey before realizing that govart is LITERALLY IN HIS FACE is sooooo laurent, and so NOT damen. like forget what i said before, if this was damen's pov, the chapter would simply start with "govart stared at damen."

again, this is a great way to immediately let the reader know that things are going to be different from this pov. yes yes yes yes

Panic spiked his pulse, an involuntary reaction, his blood beating against the inside of his skin like it was trapped. Very carefully, he made himself do nothing.

yeah i have a feeling the sex scenes from laurent’s pov would read a lot like this too

The cell itself was about twelve feet square, and had an entrance of bars but no windows. Beyond the door there was a flickering stone passageway. The flickering came from a torch on that side of the bars, not from the fact that he had been hit over the head. There was nothing inside the cell except the chair he was tied to.

he’s just like me fr, both in real life and how i figure things out while writing/playing d&d (“what are the environmental features, and what do they imply?” “what items can be used, and how?” etc.)

He was hit by the memory of what had happened to his men, and put that, with effort, out of his mind.

cool laurent fact #2: it takes effort for him to put aside his concern for the well-being of people he cares about. this is not what most people would assume, based on how he acts and speaks

He understood that he faced his death, before which would come a long, painful interval.

observation: he’s in a prison cell with govart specifically conclusion: he’s going to be killed, but also tortured for a whiiiiile first because govart hates him so bad

maybe that's redundant, but i just appreciate how his pov really is written like an analysis within itself. it's great. he's an observer of his own story, as well as a participant. damen doesn't usually think from such a detached angle

A ludicrous boyish hope flared that someone would come to help him, and, carefully, he extinguished it.

cool laurent fact #3: sometimes, he hopes. it takes effort for him to extinguish hope within himself (“carefully”), but he believes that doing so is necessary in order to assess circumstances like a rational adult. but still, he does hope.

in just this one sentence, we are told so much. we now know that laurent believes that hope is inherently irrational and childish, which absolutely tracks with the other things we know about his character. we can see it in his choices throughout the series so far, and we can understand exactly why he believes this based on his backstory.

Since the age of thirteen, there had been no rescuer, for his brother was dead.

as i was saying, about laurent's backstory,

also. damen exists. he literally threw a sword at a guy trying to kill you in the last book. laurent you are so smart and you are so stupid and i can’t imagine your pov being written any other way

He wondered if it was going to be possible to salvage some dignity in this situation, and cancelled that thought as soon as it came. This was not going to be dignified.

in almost every instance where someone has been given the opportunity to assault or objectify laurent in a sexual context, they’ve taken it. damen is basically the only living exception.

deduction: laurent cannot get out of this situation without being assaulted, so there's no point in trying to salvage his dignity

BUT like, unless i am completely missing something entirely between the lines, govart doesn't even attempt to sexually assault laurent in this scene. maybe that's not what laurent means here, in terms of dignity? curious what people think about this. because like on first read especially, my immediate thought when this scene started was "oh fuck am i going to have to sit through a scene of laurent being sexually assaulted", since everyone (including govart) talks so much about wanting a piece of him. so i guess it's like, was laurent thinking about that here, or was it just me? curious what others think too

also "cancelled that thought" is just slightly anachronistic, and PERFECT. love it.

He thought that if things got very bad, it was within his capabilities to precipitate the end. Govart would not be difficult to provoke into lethal violence. At all.

“if i’m going to die, i’d rather be in control of the dying. and i know i could totally piss this dude off into killing me before he means to do so, and then i would technically win. ha-ha.”

i love the slight hint of childish antagonism here, with the “at all.” like laurent needs to take the moment to roast govart in his own head, while considering the logistics of his own imminent death. it is so funny to me that we finally get this scene, where laurent gets to be in the genre he's been living for the past two books, but no one actually relevant to the story gets to witness it for themselves. laurent is moonlighting in this scene as a character in a book that isn't this book at all. he's taking a break from the romance and realism-based war strategy shit to be an out-of-his-depths thriller protagonist taking on antagonists that should absolutely be able to defeat him immediately, but somehow managing to survive by absurd unconventional means AND being snarky about it. damen has seen hints of this side of laurent, and paid attention, and so have we as the reader. but this is just… full-intensity. the narrative is allowing him to have it, and allowing us to see him have it. it’s like we’ve been only watching the a-plots of phineas and ferb episodes the whole time, and assumed that perry is probably doing some cool stuff in the b-plot, and gotten a few glimpses via dramatic irony… but now we actually get to see the perry b-plot, and it's fucking awesome. but the a-plot cast will still never know.

The chair, made of heavy oak, appeared to have been dragged in for his benefit, which was civilised or sinister, depending on how one looked at it.

yeah this is the internal monologue of a person who grew up reading books more than talking to people. just being witty in the prose of his own brain for funsies

He thought that Auguste would not be afraid, being alone and vulnerable to a man who planned to kill him; it should not trouble his younger brother.

of course there’s the damen of it all, but i also like how this sentence suggests just how often laurent really does think about auguste. looking back at past scenes and imagining laurent having auguste constantly on the mind really adds a new dimension of tragedy to his existence, and further depth to his initially hateful and eventually conflicting feelings for damen. we could have assumed this without seeing laurent's pov, but it's nice to see hints in the text.

It was harder to let go of the battle, to leave his plans at their midway point, to accept that the deadline had come and gone, and that whatever now happened on the border, he would not be a part of it.

yeah forget about my entire breakdown last chapter bc i didn’t want to assume laurent meant to be there and end up disappointed. he meant to be there. good job laurent

The Akielon slave would (of course) assume treachery on the part of the Veretian forces, after which he would launch some sort of noble and suicidal attack at Charcy that he would probably win, against ridiculous odds.

1) laurent refusing to use damen’s name in HIS OWN HEAD is so fucking funny

2) “(of course)” cool laurent fact #3: he thinks everyone is probably going to assume the worst of him the majority of the time, including damen. cool laurent fact #4: he thinks in parentheticals, which makes sense

3) i like how in the same sentence where laurent is trying to distance himself from damen with the name thing, he also admits that 1) he knows damen is a good and noble enough person to fight, and 2) he (laurent) knows that damen is going to win, and is therefore not overly concerned. which means he would be concerned if he thought damen couldn’t win. probably for the best tbh laurent has a lot on his plate already

4) talk about ridiculous odds, laurent, you literally kill someone with a chair in this chapter

One on one: he must think about what he could practically achieve.

me trying to do The Tasks with adhd

Fighting free of his bonds at this moment would accomplish, precisely, nothing. He told himself that: once; then again, to quell a deep, basic urge to struggle.

i like how this is put. i can imagine laurent talking to himself in his head throughout a lot of the series. he separates his base human urges from his rational mind and then uses the latter to placate the former. as long as he can manage to keep reason in control of emotion, this is effective. but when he can’t manage it… lol

also “accomplish, precisely, nothing” is great. he didn’t need to throw the “precisely” in there, it probably just made him feel wittier. even inside his own head to an audience of himself (that he knows of), laurent has to quip

‘We’re alone,’ Govart said. ‘Just you and me. Look around. Take a good look. There’s no way out. Not even I have a key. They come to open the cell when I’m done with you. What do you have to say to that?’ ‘How’s your shoulder?’ said Laurent.

i don’t want to be redundant, but i really am just delighted by this genre dissonance. i’m trying to read more of the romance genre, that's what brought me to capri, but THIS is the shit i'm used to.

The blow rocked him back. When he lifted his head, he enjoyed the look he had provoked on Govart’s face, as he had enjoyed, for the same reason—if a bit masochistically—the blow.

cool laurent fact #5: if the bit is good enough he’ll take the subsequent pain. hell, he’ll even enjoy it

god i want to read a thriller novel with laurent as the protagonist SO BAD. i think if pacat ever writes capri again she should do that, and have damen like. kidnapped. it’s not indulgent romance fluff like summer palace, it’s laurent doing badass chaotic hero shit trying to find his fucking wife

He forced himself to keep his voice steady.

i wonder how many times he thought this throughout the series. probably many

‘I think you have one piece of leverage over a very powerful man. I think whatever it is you have on him, it’s not going to last forever.’

context, as i recall: govart knows that the regent had his brother killed, i think? and he has the evidence to substantiate that claim if it was ever made. laurent pieces this together with guion, somehow, offscreen at the end of this chapter. or maybe he finds out later from loyse? but i feel like laurent is more proactive than that

‘Want me to tell you why you’re here? Because I asked him for you. He gives me what I want. He gives me whatever I want. Even his untouchable nephew.’

again, i'm kinda shocked that govart doesn’t actually try to do anything sexual with laurent here. i mean i'm glad that he doesn't, but also this quote makes it sound like that’s why govart asked in the first place. maybe it was just for violent revenge though, and humiliation?

also, like, how exactly did laurent get here? sounds like his forces were expected and overpowered at the fort, right? and he just kinda… got handed off to govart, under the regent’s blessing and guion’s supervision?

'At some point one of us will dispatch the other.’ He made himself speak without undue emotion, just a mild remark on the facts.

probably not surviving this, nbd (but still actively putting effort into regulating his emotions so he can survive)

digging into this more: i personally have this thing where my response to seemingly insurmountable odds, especially emotional ones, tends to be “once i’ve survived this, how will i explain how i did it?”

this whole approach is demonstrated really well in the masterpiece of a doctor who episode “heaven sent." it's first and foremost a meditation on persistence and grief, which are two themes very relevant to laurent's overall story. laurent’s approach to withstanding torture in this chapter, as well as his manner of survival after auguste's death, remind me a lot of "heaven sent" and my own personal methodology. fuck it, here are some laurent-coded "heaven sent" quotes, as a treat:

"The first rule of being interrogated is that you are the only irreplaceable person in the torture chamber. The room is yours, so work it. If they're going to threaten you with death, show them who's boss. Die faster."

"Rule one of dying: don’t. Rule two: slow down. You’ve got the rest of your life. The faster you think, the slower it will pass. Concentrate. Assume you’re going to survive. Always assume that. Imagine you’ve already survived. There’s a storeroom in your mind. Lock the door and think. This is my storeroom. I always imagine that I’m [here]… showing off. Telling you how I escaped—making you laugh. That’s what I’m doing right now. I am falling. I’m dying. And I’m going to explain to you how I survived. Can’t wait to hear what I say."

"I'm going to get out of here and find whoever put me here in the first place. And whatever they're trying to do, I'm going to stop it. Which might take a little while, so do you want me to tell you a story? The Brothers Grimm… according to them, there was this emperor, and he asks this shepherd's boy, ‘How many seconds in eternity?’ And the shepherd's boy says, "There's this mountain of pure diamond. It takes an hour to climb it, and an hour to go around it. Every hundred years, a little bird comes and sharpens its beak on the diamond mountain. And when the entire mountain is chiseled away, the first second of eternity will have passed!’ You must think that's a hell of a long time… personally, I think that's a hell of a bird."

it's the small victories, right? laurent can't exactly conceive of an eternity of grief like the endlessly-regenerating doctor, but those seven long years without auguste in vere must have felt like a torture chamber of their own. and, of course, there's this actual torture chamber, which laurent escapes thanks to his insane reckless persistence. what i mean to say is, laurent of vere is a hell of a bird :) i'm glad we get to spend some time in his head.

'If you kill me, whatever it is that you have on him isn’t going to matter. It will just be you and him, and he’ll be free to disappear you into a dark cell too.’ Govart smiled, slowly. ‘He said you’d say that.’

girl that doesn’t make it untrue are you stupid (yes)

‘He said, “The only way to make sure my nephew doesn’t talk his way free is to cut his tongue out.”’ As he spoke, Govart pulled out a knife. The room around Laurent greyed; his whole attention narrowed, his thoughts attenuating.

yeah, this WOULD be the thing that scares him most. last time when he was gagged, it was technically part of his plan. this would be basically a death sentence, because laurent knows that his words are what keep him alive

‘Except that you want to hear it,’ said Laurent, because this was only beginning, and it was a long, winding, bloody road till the end. ‘You want to hear all of it. Every last broken syllable. It’s the one thing my uncle never understood about you.’ ‘Yeah? What’s that?’ ‘You always wanted to be on the other side of the door,’ said Laurent. ‘And now you are.’

“you are a messy bitch who lives for drama. and i AM the drama.”

basically, laurent buys himself more time 1) being alive and 2) keeping his tongue by essentially volunteering to have information tortured out of him. this is actually a pretty classic laurent move—remember all the way back in book 1 annotations, when i brought up this quote from sharp objects by gillian flynn?

"Sometimes if you let people do things to you, you’re really doing it to them… know what I mean? If someone wants to do fucked-up things to you, and you let them, you’re making them more fucked up. Then you have the control. As long as you don’t go crazy."

By the end of the first hour (though it felt longer), he was in quite a lot of pain, and was losing touch with how much, if at all, he was delaying or controlling what was happening.

you know for all of laurent’s comments about damen valuing honor and fair play and Doing The Right Thing, he really has no idea that damen would see this happening and immediately murder everyone involved in getting laurent into this situation

His tongue was intact, because the knife was in his shoulder. He had accounted that a victory, when it had happened. You had to take pleasure in small victories. The hilt of the knife protruded at an odd angle. It was in his right shoulder, already dislocated, so that breathing was now painful. Victories.

love this use of a previous laurent-ism. god he’s made for this kind of situation why is this man in a romance novel (i’m happy he’s in a romance novel if that’s not clear, he shouldn’t have to be in these situations even if it’s entertaining and compelling and badass. being loved is harder for laurent to process than being tortured and that means he’s in the right genre to truly challenge his character into growth and catharsis)

He had come this far, he had caused his uncle some small consternation, had checked him, once or twice, forced him to remake his plans. Had not made it easy.

these sound an awful lot like dying words. the fact that this is the consolation prize laurent gives himself upon imminent death—that he’s won against his uncle a few times—almost feels like a subversion of a heroic martyr. i’m not big on martyrdom, so i almost think it’s more satisfying for laurent to die telling himself he’s Won against someone who’s hurt him, than telling himself he’s dying to save people who love him and still want him around. admittedly he does have that kind of martyr moment later, when he hands himself over at the end of book 3, but... does he even fully mean to die then? i know he has loyse’s testimony in his back pocket. is his intention still to survive, even then, or is he just satisfied that loyse could potentially bring down the regent once he's gone? idk, it just doesn't feel quite right for laurent just to give up his life completely, even if that's how damen interprets it. even then, i think he'd still have the intention to somehow survive, or at least Win against his enemies. laurent isn’t dying for anyone’s sins—if he’s going to die, he’s taking the sinners down with him, and probably counts himself among them.

i'll make sure to revisit this when the time comes.

His only advantage was that he had managed to free his left hand from its bonds.

personal tangent but this reminds me of the time my level 1 sorcerer was arrested in dungeons and dragons and she shoved her hand up her sleeve and replaced it with a mage hand, so it looked like she was handcuffed for her trial but actually wasn’t. and then she used the real hand to flip off the council running the trial and escape. she and laurent would get along

Because it was impossible to hear anything, he reasoned—or had reasoned, when more detached—that whoever had put him in here with Govart would return with a wheelbarrow and sack to take him out, and that this would happen at a prearranged time, since there was no way for Govart to signal. He therefore had a single goal, like moving towards a retreating mirage: to reach that point alive.

not him waiting for his corpse uber… and someone pushing the wheelbarrow who he can turn against govart. i like how laurent seems to have already made this plan, but this is the first time we hear of it. even in his pov we aren’t getting every single thing in his head

Guion’s voice. ‘This is taking too long.’

BOOOO TOMATO TOMATO

His voice was a little hoarser than it had been starting out; his response to pain had been conventional.

“his response to pain had been conventional” god he is so fucking funny.

laurent, rolling his eyes as he swirls the glass of water he’s using to swallow the maximum safe dose of ibuprofen: “my physical human reaction to torture is just so… banal”

Laurent closed his eyes, wrapped his unsteady left hand around the hilt, and pulled the knife out of his shoulder.

i’m listening to an instrumental music playlist right now and an acoustic cover of lady gaga and ariana grande’s “rain on me” came on the second laurent ripped out the knife

The hilt of the knife was slippery.

love how this doesn’t say “with blood,” because it doesn’t have to. also i took a quick break from reading and now there is an instrumental cover of “death of a bachelor” by panic! at the disco playing, which is rather appropriate for this scene

As, with his ruined right arm, Laurent swung the chair. The heavy oak hit Govart in the ear, with the sound of a mallet striking a wooden ball. Govart staggered and went down.

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

Laurent focused all his remaining strength on the task of reaching the barred door and placing himself on the other side of it, dragging it closed behind him and turning the key that was still in the lock. Govart didn’t get up.

laurent, facing certain death and defeat, used the chair he had been tied to and tortured in to murder and imprison his two captors respectively. kind of a shame he doesn’t end up killing the regent with a bed for similar poetic justice (not really, i think the regent’s death is perfect)

In the stillness that followed, Laurent found his way from the bars, to the open corridor, to the opposite wall, which he slid down, finding at the midway point that there was a wooden bench, which took his weight. He had expected the floor.

i love this image so much—wait is this. it is. ladies and gentlemen and others, this is LAURENT LEAN #12!!!!

He did laugh then, a breathless sound, with the sweet, cool feel of the stone at his back. His head lolled.

snarky action hero laurent i love you so very much. sorry about the torture tho

‘Guion,’ said Laurent, without opening his eyes. ‘You had me tied up and locked in a room with Govart. Do you think name-calling will hurt my feelings?’

see previous comment

‘Let me out!’ The words ricocheted off the walls. ‘I tried that,’ said Laurent, calmly. Guion said, ‘I’ll give you anything you want.’ ‘I tried that too,’ said Laurent. ‘I don’t like to think of myself as predictable. But apparently I cycle through all the usual responses. Shall I tell you what you’re going to do when I stick the knife in for the first time?’

it took me a second to understand what’s being said here. i got briefly stuck on “i tried that,” but looking back on previous dialogue and the rest of what laurent says here, i think it’s something like this:

guion: let me out laurent: yeah i asked for that too when faced with imprisonment and torture guion: i’ll give you what you want laurent: i also tried that. damn if you’re saying all the same stuff i did, maybe i’m more of a basic bitch than i thought. well hey if we’re the same i can tell you how you’ll react when i torture you, just how i reacted when govart tortured me (i am threatening you)

‘You know, I wanted a weapon,’ said Laurent. ‘I wasn’t expecting one to walk into my cell.’

okay now he’s just congratulating himself. earned

‘You’re a dead man when you walk out of here. Your Akielon allies aren’t going to help you. You left them to die like rats in a trap at Charcy. They’ll hunt you down,’ said Guion, ‘and kill you.’ ‘Yes, I’m aware that I have missed my rendezvous,’ said Laurent.

every line he says is a banger. this is the verbal equivalent of wearing sunglasses and walking away from an explosion

‘There was a man I was supposed to meet. He’s got all these ideas about honour and fair play, and he tries to keep me from doing the wrong thing. But he’s not here right now. Unfortunately for you.’

THIS LINE FUCKS

and i love that this is how he regards damen. i love that he calls him a man, and not a slave. i love that it's "he TRIES to keep me from doing the wrong thing," because laurent would never give damen the satisfaction of completely taking control (except during sex, but we'll talk about that later). overall, i love how the entire phrasing is just the tiniest bit admiring and endeared, even though laurent is simultaneously insulting damen's integrity (a quality that we know DAMN WELL laurent admires deeply).

and hey!! cool laurent fact #6: he is totally aware of how down bad damen is, and the way damen has willingly taken the role of his (laurent’s) evil impulse control. and laurent doesn’t seem to particularly hate that, or even resist it, at this point in the series. this makes early to mid book 3 even funnier, in which laurent antagonizes damen and his friends (mostly nik) cartoonishly while KNOWING that damen honors him and feels guilty for lying, so therefore tolerates and even defends laurent's petty bullshit at his own and also nik's expense. just because damen cares about fair play, doesn't mean that his ideas about fairness are like… rational. or sane. and laurent knows that damen's thoughts upon his return and dramatic reveal are probably going to be along the lines of "i lied to laurent and also i murdered his brother, so it's technically not wrong for him to lash out."

i'm looking forward to the future of their dynamic, without those giant lies and power imbalances between them. i don't even mind the "angst" of laurent being a petty bitch in the next few chapters, because we know he's being a stubborn idiot and it can only last so long before he breaks, and he doesn't have power over damen to actually abuse. while laurent previously held socially-reinforced authority over damen, they're about to find themselves on even footing. therefore it IS fair play for them to be freaks to each other, and i think a part of laurent is looking forward to that too. like he'll probably figure out his shit with damen, maybe, eventually. he knows damen will try his best to make laurent do the right thing, and laurent will most likely let him win. but he is also going to be a dramatic bitch about it first. as long as he survives.

needless to say, guion does not stand a chance.

‘Isn’t there? I wonder how my uncle is going to react when he finds out that you killed Govart and helped me to escape.’ And then, in the same dreamy voice, ‘Do you think he’ll hurt your family?’ Guion’s hands were fists, like he still had them wrapped around bars. ‘I didn’t help you escape.’ ‘Didn’t you? I don’t know how these rumours get started.’

>:)

Laurent regarded him through the bars. He was aware of the return of his critical faculties, in place of which up to now had been the tenacious adherence to a single idea. ‘Here’s what has become painfully clear. My uncle instructed that if you captured me, you were to let Govart have me, which was a tactical blunder, but my uncle had his hands tied, thanks to his private arrangement with Govart. Or maybe he just liked the idea. You agreed to do his bidding. ‘Torturing the heir to death wasn’t an act you wanted attached to your own name, however. I’m not certain why. I can only surmise, despite a truly staggering array of evidence to the contrary, that there is still some rationality left on the Council. I was put in an empty set of cells, and you came with the key yourself, because no one else knows I’m here.’ Pressing his left hand to his shoulder, he pushed away from the wall and came forward. Guion, inside the cell, was breathing shallowly. ‘No one knows I’m here. Which means no one knows you’re here. No one’s going to look, no one’s going to come, no one’s going to find you.’ His voice was steady as he held Guion’s gaze through the bars. ‘No one’s going to help your family when my uncle comes, all smiles.’ He could see Guion’s pinched expression, the tightness in his jaw and around his eyes. He waited. It came in a different voice, with a different expression, flatly. ‘What do you want?’ said Guion.

1) the complex inductive reasoning is back! laurent is going to be just fine

2) laurent just unpacked guion’s plan exactly how i’ve been attempting to unpack laurent’s bullshit in my annotations for the past 2+ books. except mine are much more bewildered, and oftten inaccurate. but that's all a part of the fun. i appreciate the small victories of occasionally getting it right ;)

#sam reads capri #capri #captive prince #kings rising #laurent of vere #lamen #this one is ridiculous i'm so sorry

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plutaztix · 7 months ago

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Finished first draft designs of the hazbin cast- Alastor., Charlie, Angeldust, Nifty , and Vaggie.

Some of them got minor redesigns while others got revamped, so I’ll be going down the line and discussing my reasoning for each one (please note, these are not perfect, and probably are not animator friendly, I did this for fun, and a lot of the decisions I made were because I felt like it. Do not throw a fit if you don’t like them)

Alastor- when redesigning alastor I focused on 3 major details: that he was from the 1920s-1930s, he was from the south, and that he was a “radio demon”. I took away the voodoo stuff cause that felt like a really weird way to associate him with Louisiana culture, and instead went for the more “southern gentleman” feel using the slicked back hair and simple clothes. I also replaced his monocle with a full pair of glasses, because I think not being able to see his eyes makes him more menacing, same thing with the straight teeth. I made his color palette into warm browns to kind of give the vibe of an old timey radio- with a highlight of gold as well. Side note: I like to imagine he doesn’t open his mouth, and instead it just lights up like an actual radio- cause I think that’s cool character flavor. I also kept his deer motif cause ,apparently, it was supposed to connect with how he died- plus I’m always a sucker for the kind of evil character that has an innocent animal theme, super fun. (Also his microphone is sentient and does change the text depending on the situation)

Charlie Morningstar- I think Charlie is a lovely character, she’s one of favorites, but she felt pretty plain in some aspects. I learned that she was kind of inspired by porcelain dolls, which gave me an interesting idea of making into kind of a “devils Pinocchio”- because what’s more innocent than a doll imbued with the power of her father’s dreams? So I really leaned into the soft friendly doll look, giving her ball joints and large eyes that stare into your soul. I softened a lot of her colors and gave her rounder shapes as well as leaning into the goat aspects of her character, because i thought it could be fun to have her play off the deer motif that alastor has.

Angel Dust- My boy , my good lad. He is also pretty solid when it comes to design , however- HE DID NOT LOOK LIKE A SPIDER. I had no idea that his freckles were supposed to be eyes until I rewatched it. Soooo I definitely tried to make him more spider like by making his eyes more prominent and giving him pointy side burns that act as mandibles. I also gave him him his spider butt and some weird ass legs. Oh and , unrelated, I like to imagine he does burlesque.

Nifty- MY FAVORITEE , I love nifty guys, she’s my POOKIE bear. When going into her design I knew I wanted to make her look older since I thought it was weird how much she was infantilized so I gave her lipstick and pearl earrings to make her look more like a refine 1950s housewife, as well as give her an apron and cleaning gloves to make her feel more like a maid. I also leaned into her subtle bug theme by giving her antennae, and giving polka dots on her dress for a very subtle lady bug theme (cause she’s my little lady). Some more small things I gave her a little swirl in her bangs to call back to victory rolls, as well as some subtle hints of green to call back to the uranium craze of that time.

Vaggie- she was difficult. Initially, I had no idea what I wanted to do with her, but I think that’s also because she’s not a very fleshed out character? Her whole story is kind of , Support Charlie and be a fallen angel.(still love chaggie tho) So I took some creative liberties, and gave her a more mature look- with some periwinkle to act as a subtle hint to her angelic nature. I also gave her the monocle from alastor design cause I thought it made more sense for her? Like, if anyone is gonna have the one eyed visual aid it’s gonna be the bitch with one eye. It also makes her look more matured? And I gave her a moth broach to call back to her moth inspo.

Annnd that’s it! I’ll be working on the next batch soon, which will likely have husk and sir pentious, if you have any other people you wanna see lmk!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin art #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel redesign #fypシ #helluva fanart #helluva boss #angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel nifty #fyp

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jujutsukgojo · 9 days ago

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The Baby Project: Chapter Five

izuku midoriya x reader, minor hitoshi shinsou x reader

1, 2, 3, 4

Summary: On July 15th, the flavor of the day is strawberry shortcake.

tw: fluff, slight angst (?)

The old camera sits nicely in your hands. Having polaroids seems more personal and shows Noa’s development in a better way. You attach the photos to your monthly reports to make up for Kaibara’s pathetic effort. Why you care about that you don't know, but you do. Everyone knows about it. Snipe was there to witness it. Yet, wanting to prove to him that Noa is strong without Kaibara, feels needed.

Maybe it is also your way to make you feel better. About everything, really. The case has been going great and your arguments have been thoroughly studied and practiced. It will still be a while before you can go in front of everyone, but you’ll make do. So, there’s no reason to even think about Kaibara unless it involves revenge.

As for right now, you’re capturing the moment of Izuku and Noa matching outfits. Both of their smiles match and are wide from happiness. Noa is wearing his Deku jacket and some green pants with red shoes to match. Izuku is wearing his hero outfit without the gear.

Although Noa still bears a striking resemblance to you, he shares some similarities to Izuku. It is getting harder to say that Noa shares something with his dad other than the last name.

This project is insane. You can only hope you won’t go crazy. If it happens, you hope not to take Izuku down with you. He makes the frustration and pain you feel everyday go away bit by bit. Even when you hurt him, he hangs on. Does he know how sweet he is? How in a short amount of time have you come to really like him?

Both him and Noa’s grins are cheesy. “Alright, we’re keeping this one.” The picture comes out of the camera and onto the pinboard next to your dresser’s wall. Both of their arms are flexing and their stances are fit for a hero’s poster board. Although you usually give the pictures to Snipe, you’ll keep this one. After the conference with Hawks, it may be all you have of Izuku and his little moments with you.

“Here, Noa!” Izuku grabs the camera and turns it to you. The bright flash catches you by surprise. You grab Noa. “Wait, Noa wasn’t in that one.”

“I know. This is for me.” He whispers it to himself. You had to strain to hear it. Finally, he takes a picture of both you and Noa. “Cheese!”

How do you take all of this in? How is any of this supposed to make sense? Noa’s warmth feels so real. He’s fleshy and his heart is beating a steady rhythm. Izuku’s here like he wants to be and like he’s comfortable. This project has messed with us all. It’ll get worse from here.

------------------

“Ok, what about this though? They can say that they don’t owe anything if it aligns with the curriculum.”

“How does this assignment pertain to us? None of the authority figures have explained what this is even for. It’s not for us . This isn’t in our curriculum, it’s theirs.” You talk and move your hands at the same time. You go to the classmate who spoke, Akane. A blonde haired girl with completely black eyes. Her iris, pupil, and sclera are all ink black.

“I’m writing that down.” Riko says. Benio stops highlighting. “She says that every day.”

“Yeah, but not with passion.”

In your hand is an old law book. When heroes first started, they altered the laws to fit a growing society with various powers. Order needed to be established, not just for the people, but for the ones who can do things no one else could. Rules that even the big wigs have to uphold.

“Okay, let’s continue. In section eight, there is a passage, right? About justice for mankind in the form of free speech.”

“That doesn’t apply…” Ema whispers as she gently moves a stroller back and forth, calming someone else’s doll.

“Free speech is what wasn’t given to us at the start of this project. Our concerns that we tried to raise went completely ignored, which goes against the text.”

You ask Benio to hand over his book that he is recklessly highlighting. “In layman’s terms here, we have a right to say shit if it harms our wellbeing. Since it is a danger to us, we have the right to say no and they have to take that into consideration, which they haven’t.”

She writes all of that down. You put the book on the table and she highlights it. Sakura walks to the table. “Okay, what about this one? It’s a tricky little bitch. If the decision is for the good of the school, these rules are overridden."

Sakura, who is just the social media director, hands you the new U.A. rulebook. It’s slim and isn’t creased in the slightest. You doubt anyone has seriously looked into it. You look at it as she holds it out with her hand. You suck in your lips and think.

“How is this project for the good of the school? And why exactly would that matter? They’re heroes, not politicians. How can they sacrifice lives for the sake of us being practice dummies? The students can be used for practice in a rescue exercise in a controlled environment and there must not be any harm. This,” You gesture at the room and the dolls.

“Can’t be used since it’s harming and endangering us, and no one is being saved. It isn't an assignment or for practice. This is abuse of authority. Besides, it’s an emotional project for them. Because of Todoroki who is still here.”

“There you go again.” Benio puts the highlighter down. “You can’t blame him for his father and brother's sins.”

“No, what I can blame him for is being the cause of this thing. This may have been their idea, but it is him that is endangering us all. This project is emotional,” you point to Sakura’s book. “And it is against the rules. It’s all based on Todoroki. It’s for him without thinking of the consequences. They can't use the excuse that this is for the good of the school. Lives are at stake."

"No one here is dying, love."

"Our hearts are. Our mental, emotional, and physical health is taking a hit, too. They're failing us."

Ema waves her hands around, letting go of the stroller’s handle. “Wait, wait, wait. Hawks cared for Twice-”

“Good for us!”

“Or bad. He may think this project is a good thing to prevent someone like Twice, who he considered a victim of circumstance. What are you going to say?”

You remain silent for a minute. They all look at you. “It’s redundant. What they’re doing is creating Twice. All it takes is one bad day to drive a man mad. How many have we had? If they want to prevent another League, they need to care for the people right in front of them. It only takes a day to ruin someone.”

Sakura gets on her phone and has a smirk on her pretty face. You yawn as another book opens. The clock seems slower but tells the right time. Determined to intake everything you can and rebut your friend’s practice arguments, you ignore your headache and drowsiness.

--------------------------------

The lids of your eyes are unbelievably heavy. Your body is swaying as you hold Noa’s hand. Noa yaps happily and stumbles from time to time. You’re patient and help him along as best you can.

You try not to think of the heaviness of your backpack that is filled with textbooks, on your shoulder is Noa’s diaper bag and in your hand is Noa. If you pay attention to it, these aches that are settling into your muscles and all the way to your bones, will stay. Maybe you need a coffee. A nice coffee and probably a snack for Noa. A vending machine, a beautiful machine that has glorious food and coffee, is against the wall to your left. You slowly head to it with a tired smile on your face. Someone gets in front of it and enters their money. You wait patiently behind him. Right as he moves out of the way and your smile gets wider until it is snuffed out when you see a robot baby face down next to the machine.

"What is that?"

The guy sipping a coffee hums and follows your eyes to the baby. "Mm, that's my project."

"Have you lost your mind? Pick it up!" His tired eyes widened. "I'm serious!" You bend down to pick it up, withholding a groan. Carefully, you turn it over and see that it has his eyes and fluffy purple hair. Its tummy rumbles, vibrating your arm. "Are you kidding me? Have you even fed it?"

"Listen-"

"No, no! Where's the bottle?" He pats himself then pulls a bottle out of his back pocket. Mei's face hasn't lit up to show that it's expired. You snatch it from his hand and put it in the baby's mouth. Greedily, they suck on it, not letting a drop spill. "What is wrong with you? God, heroes are so fucking lazy."

"Wait a min-"

"Shut up," You don't know why you're doing this. This project in your arms is not your responsibility. You kick his shin, barely making him wince. “Look, I don’t know you-” You put the baby in his arms. He drops his canned coffee on the ground as he scrambles to hold him. “But I do know that you will do better. You are going to take responsibility and raise it and not rely on strangers to do it.”

You cut him off right when you see his mouth open. “Do you rely on your partners in the field? Risk their lives for your failures?” He stops and stares. “If not, then don’t do it to us. Raise it. And if you do rely on everyone, then you have no business trying to be a hero.” As parting gift, you kick him again. He doesn’t try to dodge this time. You turn and leave, no longer thirsty for a coffee.

Noa squeezes your hand. His brows cinch together in worry. You sigh and give a small smile, hoping to ease him. All you want is to sleep and get Noa to take a nap, God willing. Noa’s eyes don’t leave yours. You yawn again and unintentionally slow down. Your body isn’t moving as well as you want it to. In the distance you hear the purple haired baby cry.

Unfortunately, that confident front is just what it is: a front. A facade, a lie if you will. Because when you face your door, you’re barely hanging on. Everything is heavy, it weighs a million pounds. Noa goes inside first and heads to his toys. Immediately, you fall onto your bed and sleep, forgetting your meds.

Right as you can smell the intense scent of lavender and see the purple mist swirl around, your shoulders are grabbed roughly. “(Y/n), love, wake up!” You flinch at the contact. “What’s wrong? Dearie, what's wrong?"

You look up and see Izuku with furrowed brows and worry in his green eyes. They dart along your figure. “Huh?”

“I asked what’s wrong? I wasn’t able to contact you, so I got worried.” You look at the clock and see that it is almost bedtime. You’ve missed dinner and valuable time doing whatever Noa won’t allow you to do.

Crap, Noa hasn’t eaten.

“Noa-”

“I’ll take care of it, okay?” He looks you over and settles back on your eyes. “You don’t look so good, I’ll handle it. Just rest.”

You reach for your meds and take them. You don’t miss how he stares at you. Without thinking about it, you hit the pillow with your eyes closed, already asleep. Whether you were working or not, you crashing was bound to happen. It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten to sleep, to actually rest. What once weighed a million pounds is fading away with the drift of peaceful sleep.

Hours later, you wake up surprised. Next to you is Noa, of course. But behind him is a hero with green curls who is laying on his side, dead asleep. His arm wrapped around you while Noa snuggles closer to you. Your face is on fire. Not only is he in your room again, he’s in your bed. Next to you. There’s a boy in your room sleeping on your bed with you.

You stretch and wiggle out of his hold he tightens it at first then lets go. Groaning, you look at the time. It’s morning now, still dark out but enough to at least get breakfast going. Quietly, you close the door and head downstairs to the kitchen. On the way, you try to come up with some explanation about the boy in your room.

A boy.

In your room, on your bed. In the elevator, you squeeze your head then cover your mouth to hold in the squeal. You instead do it in your hand. “Izuku’s in my bed!”

You slept together in an innocent way. “Oh my God.” What is this stupid giddiness? This is embarrassing! He’s going to do something like the walk of shame or whatever. What will everyone say when Izuku comes down with his morning voice, and his curls-

“ Lord, help.” You stop the elevator and shake your head. You’re a pervert for the thoughts going through your head because not a single one of them are innocent.

Taking a deep breath, you press the button for it to go down. You need to stop having teenage hormones and focus on the fact that Noa needs food. So does Izuku. Izuku…what if he doesn’t like it? You could be cooking something, and he won’t like it or he’s allergic! Actually, you’d prefer for him to be allergic than not like the food.

The door opens and you try to calmly walk out. You take a deep breath and run to the kitchen. “Plain oatmeal is safe, right? He can doctor it up himself and I’ll be in the clear. Yeah.” You don’t really want to do that. It’s stupid, the entire thing. There’s this stupid feeling of wanting to impress him.

He’s a guest, right? You’d be a bad hostess. Who knows? Maybe he’d like it and want to stay or something.

You’re a degenerate.

You smack your cheeks. “Okay, let’s get started then.”

An hour or so later, the sun is peeking out now. You look around and see another deviant. A horrible villain that has no place to be near you. “Hello, (Y/n).”

Fucking Benio. He stands there with a plate and a bowl ready for you and on the counter is a mug of coffee that was set for Izuku. Unfortunately, Benio obviously claimed it. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything but,” He sets his dishes on the counter. Benio leans on it and gestures to the food. “Alas, it seems I must.”

“Excuse me?”

“Telling Snipe that Deku is in your bed.” You gasp and toss a strip of bacon at him. How the fuck did he know that? “Hey, he’s the birthday boy. Who am I to judge what his present is.”

“It is not li-wait, birthday boy? Today’s his birthday?”

“Yeah, it’s July 15th. What? You didn’t know?” You shake your head no. “He didn’t say anything about it.”

“And you let him in your room anyway. The shame.”

You scoff. “Really? Like you haven’t fooled around? Besides, he fell asleep there. He was playing with Noa and just fell asleep. I was making breakfast for the little butthead and thought I’d be nice.”

“You haven’t been nice since you were one. When you turned two it went downhill.” You roll your eyes. “Fuck, you’re still in your terrible twos.”

You finally take his plate and put some food on it. “Make sure Kobeni eats.”

You turn to load the boys’ plates. Noa’s is a little different since he’s young. Rather than having a fried egg like Izuku, you scrambled his and put rice on his little purple plate. Maybe you should’ve called Ken. You can cook just fine on your own, though having Ken’s advice would probably have made it better.

Benio places a mug on the tray and the boys’ dishes on it. “I was just playing. Even if something did happen, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

You side eye him and grab the tray. You tap your fingers on the counter and raise your brow at him. “You’ve been talking to Yaoyorozu a lot?”

“Somewhat. She’s still barely doing anything but it’s progress. She thinks being friends or something is a start so she talks a lot. I don’t know. I’m still having trouble trusting her.”

You rub your neck. “I don’t blame you. I don’t trust what’s-his-name either nor will I ever.” He can’t be redeemed in the slightest. A villain attack could happen and you wouldn’t have him save you. You’d rather die.

“Mm, this is a good thing, my secret double agent.”

“You’re evil and I love it,” He stretches for his bones to give a relieving crack. “It’s a good idea anyway. Especially when a certain someone wants to pay you a visit.”

“Who?” Benio waves and thanks you for the food, ignoring your questions of who wants to talk to you.

It’s a hassle to get the heavy tray upstairs and even harder to open your door. You set the tray on the ground and open it to find Noa standing. “Mmm, go.”

Izuku pops up from his slumber. “He’s saying sentences!” He tumbles out of your bed, bringing your blankets with him. “Where’s my phone?!”

“I don’t think you brought it. And that wasn't a sentence.” Izuku still pats around, totally oblivious to what you just said. “Mm, papa."

“He’s talking again! Where’s my damn phone?!”

You try to get his attention and tell him that his hair is standing straight up on one side and drool is crusted on the other side of his face. He doesn’t look like the Izuku you imagined downstairs. Right now he looks goofy with red lines on his face and sand in his eyes. “The camera’s right-”

“Camera, a camera!” He takes a quick step to your desk where the camera lies and stubs his toe.

Oh my God.

Noa walks to you and hugs your legs. “Ma-”

Is he trying to say mama? Is it finally happening?

“Izuku get the fucking camera!” Now there’s a reason to celebrate. Noa stares into your eyes with what looks to be wonder. With a smile he says, “No.”

------------------------

“Say thank you, mommy!” Izuku helps Noa eat.

“No.”

Fucking brat. “He doesn’t need to be fed anymore, Izuku.”

He ignores you and cuts Noa’s eggs with a fork. “I know, I know. These are big pieces though.”

“Of scrambled eggs?”

“Anything can happen!” You watch as they eat. Izuku suddenly stops before he gives Noa another bite. He studies your figure all the way down to your lap. They flicker back up to your eyes. “Where’s yours?”

It took him a whole seven minutes and thirty-three seconds to realize you don’t have one.

You don’t want to tell on Benio. “Oh? There was only enough-” Izuku then shoves a piece of his egg in your mouth. Noa laughs and takes it upon himself to join in on feeding his mom who he insists doesn’t have that title . He grabs some of his food and shoves it in your mouth.

When should you ask what he wants for his birthday? It wouldn’t be weird for you to give him something, of course. He did sleep in here, on your bed. With you. And is still here. With you.

Swallowing your food, you say, “I heard it’s your birthday.”

He puts some rice in your mouth. “Yeah.”

You mess with the bottom of your shirt. “Is there anything you want to do? Because we could have a party, the three of us.”

“Well-”

Your door is knocked on with even taps. Izuku gets up to answer it while looking down at the floor. Benio is there with his arms crossed. At first, Izuku doesn’t realize the implication that this could have until Benio grins. Izuku waves his hands around.

“Ah! I-I-um, I can explain why I’m here before-”

“Aye, she already said. And it’s no secret you’re here anyway since you jumped into her window like that.”

You take a bite from Noa’s eggs. “You came in through the window?”

Izuku turns red and stutters. “I couldn’t get a hold of you! I thought something might've been wrong-”

“Oh my God.”

“Anyway,” Benio stops and coos at Noa who instantly recognizes his uncle. “Deku’s needed in the hero course.”

Izuku slumps and turns around. “Noa, sugars!” He squats with his arms wide. Noa goes over and gives his papa a kiss. On Izuku’s freckled face is a smile that seems forced. A facade to cover whatever he feels and is not planning on telling.

“(Y/n), I’ll see you soon.”

There is something off about him looking back at you when he leaves by jumping out the window. His eyes lacked the sparkle they usually have. Well, you and Noa will have to change that.

Noa whines for his papa at first, his little feet pad to the window that you launch yourself at to close it. To stop him from losing his shit, you give an offer that you are sure will make a mess. “Wanna bake a cake for papa?”

----------------

“Alright Bubba, where should we start?” The recipe isn't complicated. The only thing that might foil it is Noa.

He stretches to give you an egg. You grab it from him before he drops it. “Come here, little boy.” You pull the kiddie chair up that you snatched from the commons. With the help of Noa’s ‘big boy muscles’, you set it next to the counter for him to stand on. You’d prefer he’d sit though.

He excitedly bounces and gets on top of the seat. “You’re already so strong, y’know that?” It’s true. He’s only one, but everyone that sees him would swear he was two. He’s beyond advanced. If he doesn’t officially turn two soon, then you’ll have to take him to Mei because he’s broken.

Despite being incredibly advanced, he is struggling with calling you mom, mama, or mommy or anything that is remotely similar to a mother’s name. All you get is no and eyes that hold a gleam that is too suspicious to be innocent. No matter, there is no reason to worry. He is a year old, not five.

You put the wet ingredients first with the help of mini man. Before he can mix everything too harshly, you guide his hand. Suddenly, you hear footsteps outside of the kitchen. You know for a fact that no one is supposed to be here since everyone had plans.

You mess with Noa’s hair. “Stay here, okay?” He nods and keeps stirring slowly. “I already know you’re gonna fuck with shit.” You say under your breath as you exit.

There he is. The purple haired deadbeat bitch. You clench your fists until you see the baby. “I’m not taking care of it for you.” You say. His eyes catch yours. He stupidly grins, showing his perfect white teeth. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You gave him heartburn last time he saw you.”

“And you make me itch.”

He takes a step forward and deeply inhales. “Well, you-” The two of you stop when you smell something burning. You take off into the kitchen with what’s his face right behind you. On the stove is a fire with Noa’s hand on the knob. He leans to it and keeps adjusting the degree. He’s in awe of the orange light that doesn’t resemble the candlelight that he’s used to.

You run towards him until purple hair snatches you up with one arm around your waist. “Back up!”

He grabs Noa and hands him to you. He turns the stove off, but it doesn't help. Purple hair lays eyes on the fire extinguisher that is protected by a metal cage with a glass window. Finally, a white substance calms the flames until they’re nothing. It evaporates completely, leaving no trace of a fire or the substance that has been manufactured by a quirk. Your hand is protectively on Noa’s head who has yet to cry.

“What were you thinking?!” The man scolds. You can’t remember his name right now, not when your adrenaline is like this. “Leave us alone!”

“No! I think you two have been left alone enough!” Sick of him you go up and push him away. You point to the exit. “ Leave! This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you!”

He scoffs. “Yeah, blame me princess. That’d get you far.”

“Dumbass, it’s your fault. You come in here and distract me and now look. How am I supposed to finish this?”

He looks around. “What the hell were you doing other than a terrible job?”

Your eyes practically bulge out of your sockets. “You ass-”

“What the hell is it?”

“I was making a chocolate cake.” You say as if you’re stating the obvious. He raises a purple brow. “For what?” Your eyes go to the floor. You didn't think that anyone would question why you’re doing this. It’s no one’s business! Yet, you explain anyway. “It’s Izuku’s birthday.”

There is a silence that neither of you break for a minute, then he inhales. “Izuku’s favorite cake isn't chocolate.”

Oh. “ Who’s to say I want to make his favorite?” That was dumb. His smile and eyes are knowing and arrogant. “So, you want to disappoint him?”

“...No.” You are starting to hate yourself. He gets a little closer. You notice that black jumpsuit fits him baggily and the fishnets he has on his forearm are snug. It’s an odd costume, one you wonder if he took inspiration from a comic book villain mixed with his teacher, Eraserhead. Minus the clown boots, of course.

He sucks in his lips and looks around. “I could tell you.” You strum your fingers along the counter. Rather than showing anything, you decide to come off as nonchalant. “Okay.”

“Only if you tell me happy birthday, too.” You scoff in disbelief. “Pardon?”

“My birthday was two weeks ago, and no one was this sweet.” What the fuck. Surely, he has friends up the ass. He’s in the hero course and was impressive in the Sports Festival. Plus, he knows Izuku. They must be friends, and no way would Izuku not celebrate a friend’s birthday.

You put your hand on your hip. “This isn't for you.”

“Trust me, I don't want it after seeing you in the kitchen.” He gestures behind him at the stove. Noa giggles. “That wasn't me, that was him!” You point to the little brat.

“Mhm, sure princess.”

You take a deep breath. You’re going to ignore that and not tell him that you literally worked in a restaurant. “Just tell me his favorite.”

He tilts his head with an expectant expression. Under your breath with clenched teeth, you say, “Happy birthday.” He hums and answers simply, “Strawberry shortcake.”

“Thank you. You're dismissed.” You turn to the bowl on the counter. Luckily, the extinguisher didn't get in the mixture. On top of that, you already started with the right ingredients and Ema has been on a strawberry kick, so that's covered. Other than the fire, it's going well.

You side eye the purple menace who is still standing next to you. Slowly, you stir the contents in the mixing bowl. “What’d you come here for anyway?” You see that he doesn’t have his baby. You give a short laugh. He sucks his teeth. “What’cha laughing about?”

“Hmph, you dare judge me about leaving my kid alone when you don’t have yours.” He shrugs at you. “It’s on the couch. I don’t know what to do with it, to be honest.”

You slam the items down. “Have you even tried? Or are you expecting us to do it for you? Ugh, I’ve had it with you heroes.”

“Says the person making a cake for one.” You close your eyes. You don’t like him.

“Whatever. What did you come here for?” You stop and turn to him. He looks down for a moment then answers, “I wanted to thank you for snapping me out of it.”

Whatever face you’re making must say a lot because he chuckles a little and rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh, wasn’t doing what I needed to and you kicked me into gear. So, thanks. I can’t promise I’ll be good at it, but I’ll try my hand.”

This is unexpected. A total turnaround from the arrogant son of a bitch he showed you two seconds ago. Now, he looks his age; a shy boy in his late teens who is turning his pride in for reality. Seeing it makes you feel a subtle happiness inside your chest. Not because you're proud of him but out of total spite. Earlier, Benio said that someone wanted to talk to you. This guy is obviously who he meant.

“You’re welcome that I was kind enough to point out how useless you are. Now leave.”

Rather than finding anger or embarrassment in what you said, he chuckles. "I can’t even stay and watch?”

“No.”

“How about to judge?”

“No.”

The more he stays and watches your every move, the more your hands shake. You pause your movements longer than you want to with every whisk as you feel his gaze on you. “Can you please stop?”

“I’m just watching.” Without looking at him you know he has a smug face that needs a good slap. “You’re making me nervous.”

He hums and moves his hand to pluck a strawberry. “Alright, how about this. I go on the couch and mess with the kid-”

“Kids. Yours is in there too.”

“Okay, kids, and you can make your cake, eh?” You groan then say yes. A sigh of relief leaves your lips when he leaves. You don’t really know his name and it is most likely vice versa, yet he acts like he knows you.

“Whatever.” You wash the strawberries, getting ready to cut them. You hear Noa blow a raspberry as he speeds towards you. “Where’s the purple guy?” You whisper. Around the corner, you see him on the couch waving at you. “What’re you doing?”

“He wants to cook with you. I’ll stay in here while you two bond.”

“Mhm, take this time to bond with yours.”

You duck back in and continue with Noa. Surprisingly, he’s pretty good at it. However, he’s a robot so why wouldn’t he be? You deeply inhale and look at Noa, reminding yourself that he isn’t real despite this warmness towards him. Every cheer you give him when he correctly places something, or when you take the cakes out of the oven and let them cool and he bounces so cutely, you have to be reminded that he’s not your son.

He’s fake. Even now when you two are coloring with Hitoshi Shinsou, and he scribbles circles, he isn’t your son. So, stop feeling this. Hitoshi is talking to a machine right now, not a child with your nose and mouth. The faces he makes that resemble yours aren't real. None of this is real.

“This belongs on the fridge of fame.” You take Noa’s art and show Hitoshi. He goes along with it and claps. “Absolutely.”

The bell on your phone rings. “I’ll be back.” You get up and go to the kitchen again. The two boys follow you, leaving the baby on the couch. You wished they stayed so you can continue reminding yourself of that fact. No matter how precious Noa and this moment is, none of it is real. This moment is bound to stay with you, even though it is beautifully cursed.

The cakes are cooled down and you begin to assemble everything with shaky hands. Noa, of course, keeps dipping his finger in the whip cream and Hitoshi lingers around to do the same. Since he’s grown, those long fingers of his get smacked every time.

Your phone dings at an inopportune time. Your fingers are covered with strawberry juice and cream. “Um-”

“I got it.” He opens it and on the screen is Izuku. “Izuku?”

“Ooh, you two are on a first name basis already?”

“Shinsou? You’re there?” Izuku calls out. Hitoshi is holding the camera facing away from him, so Izuku has a full view of you. “Yeah, Hitoshi’s here.”

“You remember my name, princess?”

“Now I do. You weren’t on my radar, babygirl.” He huffs and Izuku clears his throat. “Anyway, if you’re done Shinsou. (Y/n), I won’t be able to-”

“Deku! Come on!” In the corner you see pink cheeks and brown hair. She’s quick and tugs on Izuku. “Turn off the phone!”

“In a minute Ocha-uh, Uraraka. It’s (Y/n).” She hums. “You can talk to her later, Deku. It’s your birthday!”

Your breath is caught in your throat. You don't like this. This jealous and angry feeling in your chest. “I-I’ll talk to yo- okay. I’m coming. Give Noa my lov-” The phone hangs up.

You take a deep breath and suck on your teeth. Your eyes go up to Hitoshi’s purple gaze. You have only known this guy for a hot minute, and so far, he has shown you how rude he is. Hitoshi’s judgment and mockery is something to be expected. Instead of being met with a mocking expression, it is blank.

“If it makes you feel better, he’s going on a mission today.”

“Why would that make me feel better?” Him eating his favorite cake that you and Noa made would be better. Him being here for the decorations Noa made out of construction paper and his scribbles would’ve been great.

“Because of his bad luck,” You side eye him, looking away from Noa’s increasing close space to the cake. It spells trouble but the boy who is supposed to eat it isn’t coming. “You seem to be into that sort of thing,” You smile a little. “Into pettiness. Maybe even vengeance.”

You are. He hit it right on the money. “Yep.”

As he chuckles, you realize that he has a bit of a sultry voice. Although, you can’t tell if it is natural or if he’s doing it on purpose. Either way, hearing it, being near him like this, is making your face unintentionally warm. His fluffy, wild, purple hair stands in all directions, his tired eyes at first seem dull but his white pupils expanding tell otherwise; especially since he’s been here messing with you.

Hitoshi Shinsou is an enigma that is most likely hiding in plain sight. His reasoning may not even be complex. This could all be a joke.

“Figured.” He sucks his teeth and his purple eyes trail to you with a suspicious gleam in them. Noa shouts a loud ‘ hey’.

You are saved from those weird thoughts by the sound of a robot. You go out of the kitchen and into the living room and see Hitoshi’s baby’s eyes fading. “Um, Hitoshi!”

He runs to you and puts his hand on your arm. “Wh-oh, that.” You groan and smack his hand. “Will you take care of-wait, what’s his name?”

“I don’t remember. My partner was the one that named him.” What the hell? You groan and rub your eyes. You know that his project shouldn’t be a concern of yours. This robot has nothing to do with you. Yet looking at its eyes becoming lifeless is tugging at your heart. “His name is now…” A face appears in your mind. It’s familiar and sorely missed.

“Kenji.”

“Alright, Kenji Shinsou,” Hearing the name of the man you miss the most causes your heart to clench. You clear your throat and say, “You should take care of him. This is your grade, too.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh, don’t really know how.”

“Are you kidding me. So, this is why you're here. For me to take care of it.” You don’t even ask for legitimacy because you already know that heroes are totally dumb, rude, and useless. You were an idiot to find him somewhat kind.

“I wasn’t raised around young kids like this. I changed him and fed him already. I don't know what else to do.” You put your hands on your hips. “What if a baby needed help-”

“That's why I'm thanking you! Because you're right. I'm not going to lie though. I really don't know what to do.”

You sigh. “This isn't my responsibility.” This project is a problem. Not just for your rights or physical wellbeing, but your emotions. As time goes on, you notice how hateful and angry you’re becoming while your maternal instincts are increasing. Even now with this doll that isn’t yours you feel protective. Is this hero taking advantage of it? Can you even see anything straight anymore?

“You don't have to help and I'm not asking. Honest to God, this is just a coincidence.” You hate this project. They're not real babies yet your heart is sad for it. The cursed heart strings tug for this dying machine.

“When did you do that?”

“At six.” You look at the clock. “It’s literally six o’clock. When?”

He rolls his eyes. “This morning. It’s a robo-” There’s a spike of panic, causing you to interrupt him. “Hush,” You gesture for him to sit next to you. “Check his diaper, first.”

He goes to take his bottoms off. You mutter, “At least you dressed him.” Hitoshi scoffs and replies snarkily. “I’m new to this, not an idiot. Unlike some people.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?” Y’know what, screw it. You were about to warn him what happens with little boys when the parent isn’t prepared, but screw it. Let him learn the hard way. You smile at Hitoshi who finally undoes Kenji’s diaper. Nothing. Nada. This boy doesn’t pee on him.

Your eye twitches. Hitoshi looks at you worriedly. “He didn’t do anything. Think he’s hungry?”

Through clenched teeth, you confirm that it’s most likely what’s wrong. “Do you even have a bottle?”

“Obviously. It’s right in there. Midoriya gave me a whole speech after I mentioned you in passing as the bossy princess who kicked me.”

You laugh and place your hand on your chest. “Bossy? Me?”

“I love how you don’t deny the princess part.”

You shrug. “Because it’s true.”

He places the bottle in Little Ken’s mouth. The baby slurps the milk happily, slowly gaining color to his cheeks and light in his artificial eyes. It matches Hitoshi but he also strangely looks familiar. You can’t place it though.

“See? That’s all you have to do. Babies aren’t hard. It’s those little boogers that are a pain.” You point to Noa who is biting a crayon. “Spit that out right now.” His spit dribbles to the table as he follows your direction.

“Okay, now what?” Hitoshi takes the bottle from Little Ken. You point lazily to the baby. “Now you burp him. Easy peasy, just pat his back.”

Hitoshi does so, careful not to hit so hard. Every once in a while he looks at you to see if he’s doing it right.

“Why did you come if the party's still going on other than manipulating me? Be straight with me.”

After Little Ken burps and spits up, Hitoshi gives what you think may actually be an honest answer. “I heard you were here so I wanted to see you. I wanted to thank you for reminding me that heroes have a job that includes more than public heroism.” He gazes into your eyes. “We have to save hearts, too. My partner isn’t participating at all. That doesn’t mean I don’t have too,”

This project is breaking hearts, yours included. Not just because of dead beats, but the impending conclusion of the project, of Noa. So, what is he talking about? Heroes haven’t saved a single person here.

“This project isn’t fair. There must be a reason and as a future pro, I have to walk with you. It isn’t right to leave you guys by yourself since I’m carrying the same burden.”

He cradles Kenji like a new dad. “Honest to God, I didn't come here for your help. I thought I was doing alright. Now that I see it,” He shrugs and purses his lips. “It is more than that.”

So, he wants to suffer too? Before you can say anything snarky, you see the slightest shade of pink on the tips of his ears. There must be more to his answer to gain that color. An elusive answer that most likely won’t come up. Either way, you can appreciate his participation. It does soothe you to see that it isn’t just general studies that are working hard, there are some hero students with common sense. Maybe he’s giving you a little hope that you wanted to see.

Even if it is literally the bare minimum.

Little Ken falls asleep quicker than Noa ever did. While his child is sleeping peacefully, your little monster bounces around, tired and fighting the urge to sleep. You try to calm him and get him to be quiet, lest he wakes up the baby. Today must’ve been exciting for him since he got to bake a cake.

The cake! You stand up from the couch. "The cake! Wait,” You look down at Hitoshi who looks curious. “Um, do you want some?”

It’s Izuku’s cake but since he isn’t coming, why waste it? Besides, another birthday boy is here doing the bare minimum as a dad.

“Only if you sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me.” He wiggles his eyebrows, earning a laugh from you. “Whatever. I’ll bring it.” Noa follows you with his arms up. Carefully placing the cake on a tray with plates and forks, you carry it to birthday boy number two.

You set the tray down and give him a slice. He goes to take a bite but you stop him by placing your hand on his. “Hold on, okay? Gimme a sec.”

You get up and turn off the main lights in favor of the lamp on the table next to him. A shadow of a smile graces his lips. It isn’t a smirk or something mischievous, it’s genuine. It tells of something subtly sweet.

Walking to him, you sing happy birthday in a soft voice. Noa looks in wonder at you as you come near.

“Happy birthday, to you!”

He raises his eyebrows and pretends to blow out a candle. Little Kenji still rests and is now alive which makes you strangely content. This image is serene for some reason.

Hitoshi moans as he eats the cake. “Y’know, for someone who burns things, you can make a hell out of a cake.”

Bastard.

Noa licks some of the whipped cream. Before you can retort with a snap, Hitoshi’s phone rings. He sighs and unlocks it. “Mhm, on my way.”

“Duty calls, kitten. I’ll be taking this-”

“Nope.” You snatch the plate from his hand. “You need to be able to hold Kenji.”

Hitoshi glares then fades away and adopts amusement. He grabs Kenji and holds him awkwardly. You’re disappointed in yourself and how you caved and helped this bastard when you should’ve kicked him harder. The project is messing with you. Although you know you shouldn’t have helped, you couldn’t fight it. The baby was losing its life and parental instincts took over.

A deeper part of you whispers in your ear when you look at the cake again. The cream has little streaks on it from Noa’s tongue and Hitoshi’s finger. Some of the strawberries have been plucked off and eaten. The one who was supposed to eat this isn’t here. Spending time with Hitoshi and letting him have a slice was some form of payback against the man with green hair.

“Thank you…for everything. I promise I will be the best single father you’ve ever seen.”

“You better be.”

---------------------------

You turn on cartoons for Noa who is still waiting for Izuku. He’s adamant that his papa will come tonight. You sit and wait with Noa and have least managed to convince him to eat something other than snacks.

After a while, the tv gets blurry and your yawn is deep enough to let the water in your eyes not be ignored. You blink rapidly and try to get rid of the sleep that presses on you like a blanket that wants to tuck you in. Unable to fight it any longer, your eyes close.

“You’re still up?” You gasp and sit up from the couch. Noa pops his head up and runs to Izuku who is in his hero suit with sweat is on his forehead and dust on his shoulders. He gives Noa a quick hug. You side eye him and bounce your crossed leg. “Papa will be right back, okay?”

He stands and comes closer to you. “I’ll be right back, I swear.” He runs out, leaving a rush of wind behind. You clear your throat. “Happy now?”

Noa giggles as he dances and bounces in happiness. After rubbing your eyes, you go to clean up Noa’s mess. The bits of construction paper and macaroni litter the area. The brat tries to grab it all from you with a big frown on his face. “This is trash, honeybun. You can’t play with it.”

He presses his face to your legs and growls. That ‘ferocious’ noise he emitted from his chest turns to cries. “Noa, baby, all of this is trash. See? Over there are your toys.” Noa shakes his head and says no.

“I’m back! Noa, what’s wrong?”

The baby walks to Izuku with tears streaming down his face. He lays it on thick for Izuku. You roll your eyes and continue to pick up the trash. “You don’t have to clean everything up now. Just wait until he goes to sleep.”

“He has toys and paper over there. I need to clean this up.” You hear him sigh and say your name. You throw the junk away and walk back to the boys. Izuku pats Noa’s back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You take a deep breath. “Don’t do this. You can’t be soft on him like that.” In the corner of your eye, you see the plates that hold bits of cake and strawberries. Grabbing the paper dishes, you head to the trash can in the kitchen. Izuku follows you with tentative steps. “What’s that?”

“Your cake that you missed.” You toss the plates away. “Is that why you’re mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” There are small steps diagonal from you getting close to your space. He is silent for a minute then in a quiet voice he asks, “Can I try it? I’d like to spend my birthday with you, if you’ll let me.”

“You already celebrated your birthday, remember?”

“I’d like to do it with you.”

“I don’t have candles.”

“I don’t need them.”

You nod and tell him to go sit down in the dining room. You suck in your lips to try and stop the smile. The rest of the cake isn’t pretty at all and you probably should’ve stored it rather than leave it out for a few hours. Its quality most likely went down. No matter, this is what he gets.

You grab the last sets of plates and forks. In the dining room, Izuku waits patiently while Noa is clapping when he sees you come in. Izuku’s eyes light up and mimic Noa’s. Even with the cake not looking the best, that ball in your gut that spiked horribly with insecurity disappears.

“It’s your favorite so-”

“What?”

You shrug, trying to appear casual about knowing that. “I- uh, Noa and I- made your favorite cake. It’s not much. It was prettier earlier.”

He looks confused with his head to the side. “Chocola-never mind! I love it!”

You set a plate in front of him. “What were you about to say?”

“N-nothing!”

“Izuku?”

Hesitantly, he answers you. “Chocolate’s my favorite. B-but trust me, I’ll love this.” Your mouth drops. Hitoshi fucking Shinsou.

Hitoshi wanted to take a slice with him and he’s the one who gave you that fake ass information. You’d bet your left titty that strawberry shortcake is his favorite. Your hands start to shake thinking of the snake.

“I like everything you make…” Those words stop your hands. His kind eyes are enough to settle you down. “We still have one more thing to do.”

Just like you did before, you sing happy birthday. This time, Noa joins with his own version. Izuku, with the help of Noa, blows out the imaginary candles. You take a picture of the boys on your phone. Both have goofy and cheerful smiles despite the cake mishap.

After one picture a ding and glow in Noa’s belly signal growth. Your breath hitches as you see a boy that once looked identical to you, gain Izuku’s undeniable features. His face and eye shape is definitely from Izuku. Noa’s smile now matches the fluffy green haired hero. Your son’s skin that matched yours morphs into an even blend from both of you.

Noa genuinely looks like the two of you. Before, the similarities between them could have been argued. Now? Not a chance.

For the first and probably final time, you have reached a conclusion with Izuku. Despite your pettiness and you being a prideful, ornery, angry, brat, you come to realize that his kindness blows that away. It is a gentle and welcomed breeze that calms you. He went to his friends and a mission for his birthday but came back to you and Noa. You finally accept that Izuku is his dad. This isn’t to spit at Kaibara’s face. You now understand that it is reality.

You take another photo then switch to video for a special reason. “Izuku, can Noa share a birthday with you?”

He stares as if he didn’t hear you. Then he grins like a light is glowing inside. His green eyes shine with joyful wetness from the tears that want to come out. This is not happiness, a temporary thing that can be frayed, but joy. “ Yes! ” He picks his son up and spins around. “Hear that Bud? It’s our birthday today!”

Noa laughs with him. You record all of this, including Noa’s real sentences about birthdays and his papa. How you made the cake with him and something about heroes. All the while Izuku’s eyes are watering at his present and Noa’s immediate development.

You will keep this one for yourself and tell Snipe to kiss your ass.

------------------------

As you eat Hitoshi’s favorite cake that happens to be sliced on a plate courtesy of his friend Izuku, you decide to bring up his names for you. It is something that you noticed and is becoming more frequent. With playful squinted eyes, you tease, “You’ve been calling me names, Deku.”

He swallows his bite of cake and furrows his brows. A bit of whip cream is on his face and the juice from a ripe strawberry is on his lips. He says it isn't his favorite cake but he sure is slamming down on it.

“I’ve never called you a name.”

“You call me ‘dearest’. Why?” He shrugs. “Because it fits.”

That makes you instinctively touch your cheeks with your hands. You are sure he noticed if his small smile and the light pink flush across the apple of his cheeks and nose is anything to go by.

It fits you. He thinks you are his dearest. It is his birthday today, yet this feels like a gift to you.

Happy birthday, Izuku and Noa.

--------------

You stop reading your book when you notice that there hasn’t been a sound other than even breathing. The two boys sleep on your bed, exhausted from the fun they had. Izuku’s face is covered with scribbly lines from the washable and some permanent marker. Noa still has his macaroni jewelry on him and a construction paper crown. He lays peacefully on Izuku’s chest. His little body dinged a short lullaby to signal that he is asleep.

You watch contently in your new chair that Izuku took upon himself to get for you. When he gifted it to you a few days ago, you didn’t point out that it is too big to fit in your room. Nevertheless, it’s perfect for this view and the relaxed ambiance. Your dim flower light on your desk shines as best it can and Noa’s hero light cube swings colors around. It’s peaceful. Beautiful, even.

Taking a deep breath, you continue to read the story. It isn’t a thick book at all and yet is rich with the story. In a soft voice, you tell the story of the greatest love there ever was.

“The dancing princess was distraught at the news of the fate of Ernest Appleseed. She vowed to never love again, to never sing or dance. Her feet will be forever planted on the ground with her beloved Ernie.

Years later, when she had grown from a little bud to a blossoming young woman, Honeycomb accidentally caught the eye of the arrogant King Pumpernickel,” Your eyelids begin to get heavy. Before you can read another sentence, you drift to sleep and into the meadow, just like the book describes. Several of the book’s symbolic flowers, four leaf clovers all around, and plush, green, grass underneath you grows underneath you.

Suddenly, Izuku makes a quick jolt in his sleep. You can hear him groan and squirm. You are too tired to stop your eyelids. As you settle, your quirk activates, not on its own, but by you.

You walk the mystical purple lane that smells of lavender, a calming scent. With one more step into the darkness, the creaking sound of a door echoes behind you. In the overwhelming darkness, you see the shape of his current dream. It is oddly shaped and glowing red. It pumps like a steady heart with a strange deep bass.

You try to knock on its fleshy surface without being sucked into its gooey softness. From what you can feel, the inside isn’t hollow at all. Without delay, you lay out your own dream. The purple mist encompasses his shell, his imagination line. You press against it for it to harden to Izuku’s shape in an attempt to crack it open. You give up on forcibly dominating him from the outside.

With clenched fists, your hand goes inside the gross red figure. The slime on it stains your body and nightwear like sticky blood. In no time, you are inside with a harsh suck.

You land on the cracked, dry ground. There is a thunderous dust cloud that heads towards the masses. Flames burn it from above with a scaly white hand. The hand puts itself on the greystone castle. Underneath is tremendous pressure that cracks its walls. You watch the hand grow black claws, leaving embers in its wake.

Although you weren’t there, this reads of a memory everyone in the world has. The secondary image of the wars that had raged against the world. They have always been something no one wanted to envision or experience. Now, you are here in what looks to be a warped first hand experience.

You want to rip this terror to shreds. To wipe away the horrors that Izuku is facing.

Green light surrounds him as he raises his fist to fight. “Izuku?” His world freezes. Even the air stills, the cracks in the ground stop growing and the glare in his eyes start to fade when they slowly look into yours. Your hand releases a purple film that spreads like weeds on the ground. It overtakes the cracks bit by bit.

You step on its rigged surface. “Don’t! You’ll-” Nothing happens to you or the healthy and plush grass grows underneath it. His chest heaves as he looks you up and down. Even Shigaraki looks confused, at least from what you can see.

He turns to you running faster than a bullet. Shigaraki’s hand now comes to you. Izuku, despite his speed, goes into slow motion. Your heart breaks at the pain he’s feeling. You extend your hand to meet Shigaraki’s to stop the decay.

“Don’t you trust me, Izuku?”

Tomura’s hand is covered in swirling purple until the flowers from the book sprout from his flesh. Tomura jerks away from you, sending his elongated hand back to him. Izuku looks you up and down when he grabs you. It goes dark for a second, just one second for you to see the symbolic and most cherished flower of the book blossom before you. Seven silky petals bloom surround a smaller bud that begins to separate and shows many more. The flower is thick yet delicate and beautiful. Once the flower matures, the darkness begins to fade.

He holds your hands in his. “Do you trust me?”

“Please, you have to ru-”

“Do you trust me to make you happy?”

He’s fast with his answer. “Yes.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I’m scared, (Y/n). I can’t protect anyone,” He taps his head against you twice. “You’ll fall-”

You touch his cheek. “ Trust me . Hold my hand.”

He closes his eyes. The purple mist thins and glows to a sharp ray that shoots up to the sky. Slowly, the shiny violet color encompasses the form of the dream. It spreads along the land, casing over every crevice. Meadows and beautiful trees plant along what used to be destroyed homes and people. Cars that were wrecked are now healthy horses and caved streets of pavement are now dirt paths and cobblestone. In the far north is still the threat of his nightmare. Tomura still reigns as a king with All For One hovering over him shaped like a dragon. His nightmare is still here, blended with your dream. You look down to see that you’re even wearing what Honeycomb would wear, and Izuku matches Ernie.

Outside the purple layer, the shell of your dream, is the surface of his. It formed into a ruthlessly beating heart that you slowly break from the inside. It shatters and leaves glowing red shards all over until some fade into black dust, while the rest solidify into the ground.

“What-”

“I will hold your hand. Just take it and trust me and mine.”

This dream is a whirlwind of twists and turns as he fights villains with a sword, not once killing anyone. Despite the brightness he has daily, you now know that he suffers from the guilt. You can’t take the source of the dream away, but right now, you’re holding his hand by being inside with him. A hand to hold is what he needed tonight.

The dream is coming to an end, you think. He holds your hands when he helps you down from the majestic white horse. His loose white shirt has dust on the sleeves and dirt on his green vest yet you don’t mind when you grab onto him. The sword he used to defeat Shigaraki and All For One who was painted as a dragon, is secured on his hip. In contrast to his nightmare of his supposed weakness, he grasped and used the sword to symbolically hold onto the strength he believes he lost and never had to begin with.

With beautiful twisted trees that grow flowers that wish to hang above the two of you, the picture is like the storybook you read to him. The book that you made sure to envision for a sweet dream.

You didn’t think he’d complete it himself. You didn’t finish the book since he fell asleep. So, as his warm hands encase yours, he leans in slowly. If you were awake, you wouldn’t have believed he would kiss you. That he succeeded in gaining one of the five legendary kisses described in the book.

He cradles your jaw and kisses you softly. Your eyes are wide, not expecting it. Your heart is beating fast. Out of instinct you want to pull away. The urge leaves when you question why you’re fighting it.

You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back. The birds sing a beautiful harmony as a tear streams down your face. Yes, it is a dream. But it is one for the ages. He may not remember you using your quirk and that’s fine. He may not even remember this dream and that’s okay, too! What matters is that he defeated the dragon in an epic battle with a sword he forged himself and took the king down without killing him.

What will secretly stay in your heart is the joy you feel. That he, on his own, is dreaming of kissing and saving you of all people.

“You’re haunting me, aren’t you beloved?” He whispers on your lips. His green eyes are slightly open and look into yours with great fondness. “As long as it’s you, do what you please.”

One arm goes around your waist and the other to your head. Your leg pops up and the sun begins to set.

Happy birthday, Izuku Midoriya.

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