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dc418writes · 1 year ago

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✨Pairing✨: serial killer!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader (ft. Robert Pronge)

Summary🪄: Never trust the back roads

⚠️: 18+, NO MINORS!! Soft,Dark!Ari, abduction, Minor character(s) death, mention of blood, a bit of Stockholm syndrome (maybe?), manipulation, language, hint of cult like lore/rituals

A/N🎤: Hey guys☺️! We got another spooky season themed piece based off Texas Chainsaw Massacre (movie and recently released game). Those who have read my works for a while know I usually stay in the lane of fluff, but as you’ve read above this is a bit darker in nature (please don’t read if any of the above warnings make you uncomfortable). So because this is new to me, I am v nervous lol but I hope those who read like it!

*Disclaimer!: although visual was made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest*

“I told you we should’ve stayed on the interstate,” Brittany quips crossing her arms across her chest. “Now we’re out of gas and stuck on this hick-town backroad.”

“Need I remind you we wouldn’t be in this situation if somebody would’ve been ready so we could leave on time,” her boyfriend, Adrian, retorts turning the key in the ignition again to get the same result of his Bronco sputtering before going silent.

“Don’t blame your laziness on me! Who doesn’t get gas before leaving?”

“I had enough to get us to the halfway point we were supposed to be at-!”

“Will both of y’all shut up?!,” Cassidy, your roommate and Brittany’s best friend, shouts successfully quieting the couple up front. “Giving me a headache.”

“Now what do we do?,” you softly ask nervously toying with the ring dangling from the thin chain around your neck.

“If we knew we wouldn’t be sitting here now would we?”

“Hey! I get it Brit your frustrated. Don’t take that shit out on Y/N or any of us,” Cassidy snaps. Her best friend only mumbles under her breath sinking a bit lower in her seat.

“I’m sorry, what was that?!”

“Enough!,” Adrian shouts making you jump while the other girls look out their respective windows. Sighing, he grabs his phone from the middle console before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning towards the rest of you. “Let’s try to come together, alright?” Ever the captain trying to rally the “team”.

“I’m gonna walk up the road and see if I can find a gas station or anybody that can help. You three stay here and keep trying your phones to see if you can get anyone.”

“You’re just gonna leave us here?!,” Brittany asks as if offended he would ever speak such a plan. He doesn’t have time to answer from the knock on her window startling everyone in the car. The stranger’s almond brown strands framed his rugged yet model-esque face as his lips curled into a friendly smile. His large palms shooting up in surrender with a quick, “sorry!” giving all of you a show of his thick biceps and the veins that travelled up his forearms.

“Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to see if y’all were alright,” he speaks loud enough to be heard through the rolled up window. His deep voice and southern drawl prickles your ears - and shamefully, other more neglected parts - wanting to hear him talk all day and night if you could.

“Yea, just out of gas,” Adrian answers. “Know where the closest station is?”

“I happen to own one 10-15 minutes up the road. I could drive you if you want?”

“Fuck no, we’re not going with him!,” Cassidy whispers to Adrian. “Where did he come from in the first place?”

“Cass this might be the only help we get. I’m not about to pass up the chance to get out of here because of paranoia,” he replies before turning back to the handsome stranger. “Sounds good, thanks.”

Once he’s helped all of you into his older model truck, it doesn’t take long for him to start the engine carrying the four of you down the road. Adrian sat in the passenger seat while you sat in the middle of Brittany and Cassidy in the back. The three of you quiet as the men small talked.

Adrian introduced all of you and explained your summer vacation plans - much to Brit and Cass’ displeasure - to the former stranger now called Ari.

Occasionally he’d ask if you all were okay or needed the air changed. His eyes unknowingly lingering on you a tad longer as you nervously smoothed out the hem of your flowy floral dress.

Knowing what you do now, you would’ve stopped Adrian from accepting his help. From either of you getting in that red truck and falling for a kind smile and hypnotizing blue eyes.

Waking up, the panic returns to your body not being able to move your arms and legs far. The heavy shackles attaching them - and you - to the cold, metal table below make it near impossible as their chains rattle pulling your extremities back with a sharp thud.

“Might not wanna move too much sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to hurt those pretty little wrists of yours.” The fearfully familiar voice has tears brimming your eyes hearing his footsteps come closer and closer until he’s stopping at the table on the opposite wall handling some tool. Without your glasses, everything looks blurry which only adds to your fear.

You lost them as you were trying to run away from your other captor. Long, stringy brown hair and thin wire frames of his own, he always seemed to wear black gloves and an apron splattered with some liquid you didn’t want to think about every time he appeared. This last time somehow finding your latest hiding spot as you all tried to escape.

First you were right beside Brittany, both of you shoulder to shoulder sprinting and nearly out of breath. Then suddenly you were harshly falling to the ground having tripped over something. She kept going, ignoring your hurt form as you were pulled along the clay like dirt trying to wiggle free as you screamed and sobbed calling out for help.

“Shut up! Maybe if you would’ve stayed where we put you, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” he spat down at you clearly frustrated you were putting him through all this trouble.

After finally settling on the delicate scalpel, he slowly stalks across the surgical like room. Shoes tapping against the linoleum floor while he admired how it gleams in the fluorescent light with every slight twist of his hand.

“Now,” he grins leaning down close enough that you could feel the warm air from his nostrils blowing against your skin. Smell the smoke on his breath from his earlier cigarette. “How about we get you out of those filthy clothes, hm?”

The back of the scalpel runs along your sweaty collarbone as he placed it under your thin, spaghetti strap. With one tug he could easily break it giving free access to your chest - especially with your arms being held above your head.

“I told you she was for last Bobby,” Ari speaks approaching your table and making your heart sink further. His partner, well Bobby, rolls his eyes begrudgingly sitting up to meet him now standing right by your leg smudged in dirt.

“Welp, sometimes life has other plans,” he replies with that devious smirk. Ari’s bigger than the man in front of him, easily being able to move Bobby out of the way with the thick muscles along his arms and back - not to mention those thighs straining to break free from his blue jeans.

You feel like a lab rat being observed by scientists under their intense gazes. Ari’s, though, mixed with something tender - almost enamored - that has you surprisingly not cowering away when he reaches his hand out brushing a thumb along your cheek to wipe away a fallen tear.

“Please,” you whisper between your sniffles. “I-I’ll do anything.”

Those words coming from your pretty mouth sparked something in Ari he’d never felt in all these years.

Plenty of his victims pleaded that same thing offering him any and everything a man could ever want, but he never budged continuing on for the sake of his family’s lineage. There was something about sweet you though, practically dripping with innocence and this light Ari couldn’t help but fall for. He saw that while you sat in the backseat of his truck and at the gas station quietly sipping your soda off on your own as you looked out the window towards the lush grassland across the street sprinkled with wildflowers. He actually felt guilty when he had to knock you out, hoping he wasn’t scarring your soft skin too much when he’d drug you to the storm cellar with the others.

Immediately, he wanted you all for himself and was ironically desperate enough to do anything to make it happen.

“Oh sweetheart, we’ve heard it all before,” Bobby teasingly coos. Ari’s emotion stays unmoving still gently wiping away your tears.

“I promise I won’t say anything!”

“I won’t say anything!,” he mocks trying to imitate your fear stricken voice before laughing to himself. He returns back to the table full of tools trying to decide between the rusted scissors or the butcher knife for his next torturous instrument. “You’re all the same.”

Peering up at Ari with wet lashes and red eyes, you whimper another quiet “please” hoping to see your family again.

And for the first time since your capture, that charismatic smile finds its way back on his pink lips reminding you of when he first appeared outside the car. Giving you a small sense of hope you should’ve known not to trust.

“Tell you what, I’m feeling generous so I’ll make a deal with you,” Ari speaks sounding so smooth as if the current environment around him wasn’t real at all. Bobby isn’t happy though, from the way he drops his tools stalking over to Ari.

“Need I remind you of your little legend?”

“Everything will be fine. Especially when sugar here helps us.”

You can still hear Brittany’s screams coming from the room deeper in the basement. They’re faint, being however many feet upstairs in one of the older farmhouse’s bedrooms, but you can still hear the agony and fear laced within.

Hear the betrayal uttered along with every “no don’t!,” knowing you were ultimately the reason for her final capture - and soon death. Before she was taken herself, Cassidy found a hidden message on one of the walls describing how to get out using only Ls for left and Rs for right. Pictures meant to represent exits on how to leave the property that you all nearly found if not for the hidden traps.

A light tap on the door has you holding yourself tighter, moving slightly higher up the bed fearful of who could be on the other side. Luckily - or maybe not - it’s a blurry Ari holding something in his hands. His heavy steps stop at the edge of the bed gently placing something on the brown comforter. Cautiously, you reach out to feel the cool metal of your glasses excitedly placing them back on your face to find them cleaned and surprisingly without a scratch.

“I thought you’d need those.”

His strikingly handsome face is soft with a tilted smile as he hands you a glass of water you rush to take craving for the cool liquid to flow down your scratchy throat.

“Slow down sugar,” he chuckles. “There’s more.”

Now embarrassed, you slowly lower the glass from your chapped lips handing it back with a shy, “thank you,” before wrapping your arms around your middle again. “A-Am I going home now?”

He sighs clicking his tongue and rubbing the back of his neck with his bear paw of a hand as if not exactly knowing how to answer your question. His expression has your face falling in disappointment as well as confusion.

“‘Fraid not.”

“But…you told me you’d let me go?”

“And I did. You’re not in those rough shackles anymore are you?” You feel foolish thinking he’d actually help you this time. He’d shown you the knife before, yet you still openly turned your back as if he couldn’t stab you.

Were you really that naive? Or was it something deeper at work you were ashamed to admit?

“Aw don’t look so sad. I’m just looking out for you,” he explains perching on the corner of the full sized mattress. “The moment you show up back home without your friends all fingers are pointing towards you.”

“I’ll tell them we split up! That I don’t know what happened to them,” you cry.

“That’ll only get you so far before eyes are back on you sweetheart. Parents and friends of theirs saying how you have to know something. That’s when cops get more aggressive too.” Ari dares place his hand on your thigh as a sign of comfort, and you don’t remove it thinking how he was right.

You wouldn’t be able to play dumb for long before you’d appear even more suspicious to everyone. That then left you with two options: jail or hide away confirming your own death along with the others.

Tears quickly tumble from your eyes at your realization, but Ari’s there wiping them away as soon as they fall and leaving your skin tingly where he touched.

“I know I know, it’s a lot to take in. But I’ll be there to take care of you. Just like I took care of Brittany for you.”

“F-For me?,” you ask gazing at him with tears still falling as you silently hiccup.

He nods. “You didn’t know she was the one to trip you huh?” Part of him hated to be the one to break it to you, but on the other hand he could just eat you up like a little sugar cube how innocently oblivious you looked.

Not to mention how you still managed to look so pretty while you cried on his bed. It gave him other ideas, but he managed to push those away for now.

“She selfishly sacrificed you, so it’s only right she get the karma she deserved right?,” he asks gently squeezing your thigh.

You knew she never liked you. For whatever reason, always looking at you like an annoying little sibling being forced to tag along whenever Cassidy would invite you out with them. She was a true friend wanting you to experience more than the four walls of your dorm and your classrooms, while Brittany could care less about you.

Although it felt wrong to admit, you nod agreeing with the man doting on you making his tilted smile return - and that gooeyness to your insides.

“You won’t have to want for anything here with me sugar. I promise you that.”

Every fiber and cell in your body is warning you of his promises. Reminding you of everything you’ve been through up to that point. How you should be careful with the man in front of you, who had a deadly switch that could flip at any moment leaving you in clear danger.

Yet the way his blue eyes look at you - really see you, which is more than you experience from most people - you feel honored he’d retaliate on your behalf. You feel special receiving such loyalty and care.

And with that, you lean into his touch softly smiling as his thumb traces along your bottom lip. “Okay Ari.”

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson au #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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deliciouskeys · 1 year ago

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@cozycornerkinktober's prompt lucky #13: Nursing/lactation

Another deleted scene from the Selfish Gene (Butchlander)

Warnings: Everyone's going to write about HL's canon nursing/breast milk fetish for this one. And uh... so am I. But in mine he's the one lactating so trigger warning for that upfront. Mpreg. Supe baby. Injuries. Weird fetishes. Probably a little bit more emo than I intended. @vanshoundd requested this one, but I'm not at all sure they'll be pleased with the result lol, but I tried! AO3 link.

Butcher’s nose was never that sensitive, but he starts to detect it as soon as he’s out of the elevator on the twenty fourth floor of their new hoity-toity high rise condo building. It hits him full force when he opens the door to the apartment, thick, cloying, notes of melted butter and even something a little like apple, all mixing together into a bouquet that now smells like his partner, like their child, like home. Butcher puts away the groceries he brought in before following the overly familiar, obnoxiously loud sound of the pump coming from their bedroom.

Homelander is sitting half propped up in bed, browsing on his phone, the wearable vest with suction cups stuck to his otherwise bare torso, both 150ml milk bottles half-full with creamy white liquid, frothing up slightly from the negative pressure. Lena’s sleeping soundly on top of his body and not in her crib— as far as Butcher knows she’s never been in her crib in the two weeks since being born, Homelander being completely engrossed with taking her everywhere and keeping her close at all times. He hasn’t really left the house except to go out on the balcony, despite having been so enthusiastic about having the house confinement officially nixed a few months ago. At least their new apartment overlooks Central Park and has two spacious bedrooms— not that Homelander has let Lena stay in her nursery yet. Butcher made a token attempt to convince him that sleeping together with your newborn in the same bed was ill-advised, but SIDS was just not something on Homelander’s list of worries. ‘How about you worry about Sudden Dad Death Syndrome,’ he said dismissively. Butcher had no intention to stay away and sleep in another room. If he’s going to get lasered for rolling over on his infant daughter, well, it was a good run. Homelander seems genuinely worried about that eventuality though, and keeps Lena between his own body and a pillow. Butcher’s not sure how much the pillow would really protect him, but he’s learned not to argue about most of these things. He’s also not sure how much Homelander actually sleeps during the night, because he’s still feeding the baby so often, and every time Butcher wakes up groggy during the night, Homelander’s either feeding, burping, changing, or pumping.

At the moment Lena’s sound asleep, positioned along Homelander’s belly, tiny legs flexibly curled up under her diaper, tiny ribcage visibly moving in and out underneath the tiny blanket draped over her.

“I don’t know how she can sleep through that racket going on near her head,” Butcher says as he lies down next to Homelander.

“It’s really not that loud.” Homelander rolls his eyes, finally putting away the phone.

“It’s pretty loud, love. And I think you’re going to break it soon if you don’t stop running it 24-7.”

Homelander huffs. “What am I supposed to do if I can’t store much inside my body?”

Supplement with formula maybe, Butcher thinks but doesn’t say out loud. It’s a really sore topic they’ve been over multiple times over the past couple of weeks. Homelander’s body responded to pregnancy by the textbook, golden colostrum letting down as soon as Lena rut her face into his chest, not even an hour after being born. But his milk supply never came in as plentifully as the lactation coach assured him it would. He produced milk quickly, but had little storage capacity. His chest was only a little bit more swollen and veiny than before pregnancy, and there was apparently just not enough volume for a satisfying feeding, even for a tiny newborn. Butcher had probably never seen him as upset as when he was frantically switching Lena from one nipple to the other, to no avail because she’d drained both in short order and was crying for more. “Why can’t I do this right?!” he’d lamented, sobbing about his failure, rather than the fact that their famished newborn’s suction was apparently strong enough to make his nipples’ skin chafe, pop, and bleed. Butcher fed Lena formula out of a bottle between her breast feedings during those first few days, and Homelander refused to even watch it happen, lying in bed turned away, weeping, depressed, and defeated. The mere sight of the bottle would send him into what, in Butcher’s mind, was irrational hysterics, but suggesting that there might be some postpartum depression at play here was angrily dismissed out of hand. Butcher found what was at least a stopgap solution, buying one of those supplemental nursing systems where breast milk could be mixed with formula to boost the volume and be used to feed the baby through a thin plastic tube taped to align right with the nipple. All the nice physical bonding of not using a bottle, without the anxiety about your baby going hungry, Butcher figured. But Homelander was still a purist, and wanted zero Similac in the mixture. That’s why he’d taken to pumping day and night, every hour except when Lena was actually latched on to him. For better or worse, it seemed to be working, his body slowly adjusting to meet the demand. In the past few days, he finally started having leftovers to freeze.

“I just feel like I haven’t been able to talk to you without raising my voice over the din of that motor,” Butcher says, cupping Homelander’s face and kissing him on the cheek, then rubbing his hand against the rough beard bristles on his chin. Homelander was so focused on his baby that apparently he stopped prioritizing shaving every morning, brushing his hair, or showering.

“Sorry, I haven’t been taking care of myself today,” Homelander says defensively as Butcher’s hand runs along his jaw.

“D’you want to?” Butcher asks.

Homelander looks down at Lena and sighs.

“I can watch her while you take a fifteen minute shower,” Butcher says, both amused and annoyed. “You can’t keep being this much of a control freak.”

“If she wakes up-”

“I’ll inform you at once, commander-in-chief, Jesus.”

“And if she…”

He trails off but Butcher knows what Homelander is getting at without any more being said. Lena has yet to actually fire off a laser but her eyes have powered up a glow a couple of times in the past two weeks. They haven’t been able to pinpoint what seems to trigger it. Every time it’s happened she was latched on, feeding, and not fussing. Butcher thinks it’s overwhelmed-with-happiness-and-pleasure lasers, not rage-lasers, but they can’t know for sure.

“I’ll be careful and point her away from me. What do you want me to say?”

Homelander nods and slowly sits up. Lena makes a quiet whimper and he freezes but she seems to go right back to sleep, despite being held almost fully upright. Butcher takes her gently into his arms and cradles her. She turns toward his body but thankfully doesn’t wake up and start searching for milk. Homelander walks out of the bedroom with the pump still attached to him.

“Maybe you should take it off before you get in the shower,” Butcher mutters to himself under his breath, but Homelander hears him loud and clear, of course, even with the machine still on and says “Very funny” from the bathroom.

Butcher enjoys the rare opportunity to study this tiny creature snoozing in his arms, a creature he helped make. He leans down and inhales the scent of her head, her wispy dark hairs flying up when he does. He finally hears the pump being shut off and the shower running shortly after. Lena stays asleep, eyes sometimes moving underneath her thin eyelids, long eyelashes twitching slightly. She’s unbearably cute. Holding her, Butcher admits he can understand why her other parent doesn’t seem to want to let go of her for even a minute. He never would have imagined he’d feel like that about anything, let alone a newborn, but there’s some kind of biological or psychological program that’s kicked into gear in his brain once he finally saw her in the flesh. Somewhere in his deep memory he also recalls what it was like to see Lenny for the first time, and feel an overwhelming immediate sense of love for someone so tiny.

As he watches her sleep, his mind starts to drift as well, as if the sleepiness is contagious. He’s in this hypnotized state, so he’s not sure how it happens exactly, but Lena wakes up pretty suddenly. She doesn’t cry, just opens her eyes and next thing Butcher feels is her tiny fist finding and wrapping around the pinky of the hand he’s laid on top of her. Butcher immediately realizes his dire circumstances when he feels powerful force squeezing his finger and bone starting to crack. He stays stoically silent, looking down at her open eyes. They’re huge—sometimes it feels like they’re taking up half of her face— and a piercing blue. He’s heard babies’ eyes often darken as they grow, but as of now they’re the spitting image of Homelander’s. Maybe that’s why he feels just a tiny bit unsettled whenever she fixes them on him– some echo of their old antagonism still buried somewhere deep in his brain.

“Lena, love, let go of Daddy’s hand,” he says quietly through teeth clenching in pain, still smiling at her, already knowing talking like this is futile. He’s fairly sure he feels something fracturing and blinks back tears. She stares up at him, but doesn’t release her grip. He can’t even try to pry her hand off, with none of his hands free. The shower is turned off already, and loath as Butcher is to prove that he can’t watch Lena for fifteen minutes, he gets up and carefully makes his way to the bathroom.

“Can you help me out…” he says as he’s pushing the door open with an elbow and sees Homelander choke on something and press the back of his hand to his mouth. Although he’s at the sink, turned away from the door, Butcher can see in the mirror that he was sipping on one of the milk containers that he detached from his chest.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CAN YOU KNOCK?!” he explodes, apparently before he’s swallowed everything down because the first words come out with a gurgle.

“I actually couldn’t…” Butcher answers sheepishly, wincing because Lena’s grip tightened further around his already broken finger during the yelling.

Homelander looks over and sees the situation and his facial expression twists from anger to distress. He quickly approaches and pries her tiny fingers open, taking her into his own arms almost at the same time, cradling her close.

“She hurt you,” he says, frowning so dramatically that Butcher can’t help but feel amused at their predicament. A baby being able to mangle her father has some kind of dark humor to it.

“She’s fine. I was careless,” Butcher says, almost waving his injured hand dismissively before feeling a jolt of pain in his pinky at any movement.

“Your right hand. You need to go to the hospital,” Homelander laments, starting to sound panicked.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal, alright? Leave it alone. I’ll take care of it later.”

Homelander looks unappeased by that, and it dawns on Butcher that he’s probably insecure about his child being perceived as a danger to normal people, the public. Perhaps to be locked away in a secure facility until all the powers are under control.

“Hey, I’m okay. I was just careless.” Butcher says, but he’s also starting to survey the scene he walked in on. Homelander’s standing naked, hair still wet, holding Lena in his arms who seems to recognize her feeder parent smell and is starting to root around his chest. Butcher sees the bottle of breast milk, almost drained. He doesn’t say anything, but Homelander seems to catch where his gaze went.

“I make enough for her! I’m not having anything that she needs!” he starts saying and Butcher doesn’t know where to start with this.

“Look, I don’t care what you do with it. You’re the one obsessed with not giving her formula. If you want to drink your own breast milk, I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”

Homelander chews on his lip, face crimson, and Butcher can’t believe that this is, of all the strange things this supe’s done, what he’s going to be mortified by.

“I’m not saying it’s normal, but you’re not harming anyone.”

“You don’t get it,” Homelander says, eyes fluttering when Lena finds his nipple and latches on but then he looks down at her and avoids eye contact with Butcher. “I obsess over it. I- I feel like I get turned on when she’s nursing. I even get a little turned on when I’m pumping. I’ve been wanting to drink it. I have real issues.”

Butcher rubs the bridge of his nose, remembering to use his left hand. “I mean, yeah, that sounds a bit sick, but it’s harmless I guess.”

“You never feel tempted to even just taste it?” Homelander asks. His tone is weird and desperate, as if he’s hoping to hear just a little bit of support for this freaky fixation.

“Can’t say I have,” Butcher says, but then adds. “I kind of like the way it smells. I’ll taste it if it makes you feel better.” He approaches and takes a small sip from the same bottle Homelander was drinking out of, smacking and trying to describe the taste like a connoisseur. “It’s really sweet. It’s not that bad. If I didn’t know what it was I might have though it was some kind of bland custard.”

Homelander watches him, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“What?” Butcher asks. “What do you want me to say?”

“You’re not revolted?” Homelander asks cautiously.

“I don’t know, after watching you be in labor for more than a day and then give the bloodiest birth I’ve ever heard of at home on a shower curtain I spread out on our bed? I think I’m beyond being revolted.”

When they move back to the bedroom, Butcher holds Lena while Homelander puts on fresh sweatpants. He’s rushing, as if every second Butcher is holding her is borrowed time.

“You can’t do everything yourself.” Butcher sighs. “It’s just a broken finger. I don’t even feel like going to the ER. They’ll just put it in a splint.”

“Fix your hand,” Homelander answers him brusquely. “I don’t want you walking around with an ugly crooked finger and have it be this ‘Story’ about how Lena broke your pinky.”

“And here I thought you cared about my well-being.” Butcher chuckles.

“Maybe that too,” Homelander says morosely, as he lies back and switches Lena over to his other nipple. His expression softens whenever she’s latched on. “If you’re not going to the ER, can you…bring the bottles from the bathroom…?”

Butcher shrugs and carries the two containers back into the bedroom.

“Can you…” Homelander’s voice gets really quiet. “Can you feed me with it.”

Now Butcher’s a bit disturbed. “Can I what now?”

“Just put the bottle top on it with the nipple and just hold it to my mouth.”

Butcher sighs, incredulous, but does as he’s asked. He watches Lena sucking languidly on Homelander’s nipple– she’s not hungry, she’s mostly doing it out of habit and for comfort. He watches Homelander slowly downing the remaining milk in one bottle and then the other.

“Yeah, this is a bit fucked, love, I have to tell you.”

Homelander licks his lips when he’s drained everything. Lena leans back at about the same time, and the synchrony is vaguely disturbing to Butcher.

“I know,” Homelander says, looking off into the distance and avoiding eye contact. “But it makes me happy.”

A/N: The oxytocin released by the brain upon the sensation of breastfeeding doesn't bring people to orgasm, but it can turn some people on quite a bit. Socially unacceptable biological phenomena, but honestly it makes a lot of evolutionary sense that you'd get rewarded for feeding your brood.

#butchlander #mpreg #cozy corner kinktober #I've missed so many days of kinktober!!! unacceptable #and this is what I bring you after the long absence lol pure id and self indulgence #the selfish gene #homelander #billy butcher #nursing #lactation #kind of messed up #the boys #the boys tv #mystuff #fic

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louhilainen · 6 months ago

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Tsukuyomi, Shura and Douma from Olympia Soiree as parents!

Contains major spoilers up to Akaza's route!!

Tsukuyomi

Tsukuyomi likes peace and quiet… BUT THOSE DAYS ARE OVER FOR HIM WHEN BYAKUYA MAKES DADDY TSUKUYOMI INTO A REAL DAD!! xDDD

Not gonna lie, he has an adjusting period as he becomes a father of a noisy brood after living on his own pretty much as he pleases. (Yosuga was an easy kid, and didn’t cause him any trouble lol). Many times he craves just for a moment of solitude, but those kinds of moments are far and between when the children are still little. But he has enough life experience to know that children are only small for once and years go by fast, so he enjoys every moment with them when they still need him.

Tsukuyomi is definitely in his element as he guides and teaches the children. He has all sorts of knowledge and skills that he passes on be it reading, writing, mathematics or painting. If one of them shows interest in something specific, he always encourages them and makes sure they have the opportunity to learn more. Even though their children are in agreement that their dad tells the same stories over and over way too much and his existence is an overall embarrassment to them, they love him and he is the first person they come to for advice and support. Let’s face it, as raised by him, they are pretty strange themselves xD

As Tsu doesn’t have a day job, he’s basically SAHP, while Byakuya girl-bosses her way around the island xD Although Tsukuyomi does not share Byakuya’s drive for making an island a better place, he always supports her in her goals and offers advice if asked. Byakuya likes to drag him to help her in her projects, although he grumbles objections now and then. But if it makes her happy, then he’s all for it.

When their children grow up and start leaving their home, he is happy and relieved that their children have found their place on the island. But he definitely feels an empty nest syndrome (“Everything I love always escapes me…”) But not to worry! Byakuya will always have something “small” for him to do! (“Tsukuyomi, it’s 5 AM, it’s time to feed the chicken, rearrange the furniture and build props for the girls' new play!” “Yes, my dear…”) And when the children have children of their own, Grandpa Tsukuyomi’s babysitting services are desperately needed!

So he will never have too long a moment of peace and he is at times a little baffled how things turned out like this. But he enjoys having a busy and a fulfilling life and is very satisfied with having a purpose. From his perspective, his life, after marrying Byakuya and having a family with her, went in a blur. But he feels he did more living during those decades than in centuries before that. So he has no regrets for forsaking his immortality to be with her.

Shura

Shura and Byakuya make a power couple! When dealing with other people, with Shura sweet talking to them and Byakuya’s earnestness (yet calculated), they end up making promises they regret. Shura teaches Byakuya to be more shrewd while Byakuya shows her that kindness is sometimes more useful than subtle threats.

(I don’t know how they get pregnant, either by lesbian magic or they use sperm donors.)

When Byakuya’s pregnant, Shura spoils and pampers her so much that it makes her a little uncomfortable…

Shura spoooooils their children so much! They can have anything they want, be it from dresses, dolls, make up. She loves getting them gifts and is very affectionate with them. But on the other hand, she is also very demanding and strict and makes sure they know what awaits them. She knows all the eyes on the island are on their girls, always assessing them and waiting for them to fail, so she makes sure they are prepared for that.

Shura is fiercely protective over her girls. Especially when they get older and with her experience with her husband, Shura can be a biiiiit over projective. Basically, she doesn’t trust men.

She assures her daughters that they can do anything even if they are girls no matter who says what. Having children also forces Shura to acknowledge that nothing in the island would change until women are treated more than living wombs. She realizes that she herself has kept the system living by her own actions. But she and Byakua swear to make the island a better place for women so their children and other women can live happier lives

Tsundere Grandpa Douma

Whenever Byakuya’s and her spouse’s children visit, chaos begins. They use the railing of the stairs as a slide, run in the house, making all the servants and Douma run after them to make sure they don’t hurt themselves or destroy the house. They ask millions of questions about Douma’s life in the Outside world and ask him to read books from them. Douma has to use every wit of his to keep children entertained.

When their parents come to pick them up, Douma complains and asks not to bring them ever again. But when the children hug him and tell them that they had lots of fun, Douma’s heart melts. After they are gone, Douma goes to his study and sighs a breath of relief. It’s quiet. Just as he likes. But why does he feel so… lonely? When would they visit again? The servants notice when Douma misses them as he stares out of the window and keeps sighing. They send a word to Byakuya and her spouse that it would be nice for them to visit again as the Master misses his grandchildren tremendously…

#olympia soiree #tsukuyomi olympia soiree #shura olympia soiree #byakuya olympia soiree #olympia olympia soiree #family fluff #douma olympia soiree #otome games #otome headcanons

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cutepastelstarsalior · 1 year ago

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Clone high season 2 live blogging

Episode 6

:( the dinner is going to be sold

Yeah I can see why some people don’t like the dinner because of the racial segregation….

Did some guy just buy to eat the dead wife????

👀 disabled Joan!??? Let’s goooooo!!!!! Detective Joan!!!! Awe cute Joan had a cat <3

“Psylly legs is build up nostalgia the legs get psylly”

….So Joan is just stimming???? (I thought she’d had restless leg syndrome)

If people bullied Joan because of her medical stuff, why didn’t Joan help Ghandi when people hated on him for his adhd? Also man does this town have an ableist history…..

Blood pack!!!!! Same big mood with the doctor not handling blood 😩

Yay Joan’s weird French films!!!! DAVID FUCKING TENNANT???!!!!!! <3 ohmgggg I love him as 10

Heyyy trash Mandy Moore lady is back!! :0

Did I meant I love the colors in this show? I do…

Noooooo jfk cheating on Joan? Wait…or not? Hmmm I feel like kissing another girl is bad…..FUCK is this is Total Drama and the Bridgette and Geoff scene >:( damn it!!! (Yes I know that they are 2 different shows but listen……hyperfixation™️ also my mom thought CH was TD lol)

Yay jfk and Harriet told Joan the truth….oh no Joan is going through so many emotions and drinking :0 hmmm 👀 (idk why but the little montage of Joan going rapid through different emotions feels like something bpd???)

Episode 7

Confucius parents took his sister to Bali but not him :( awwww his family didn’t care if he got lost in the dessert. Man Confucius family sucks, no wonder he tried to hard to be popular online, he just wanted attention :(

:( Abe and Joan army friends anymore noooo. Damn. Abe lost Joan and Ghandi, this dude is going through it….

My favorite background clone is Cathrine the Great, I think her design is so cute <3

The bus crash and now JFK brain is bigger….i think you have internal bleeding there bud…

“As a woke straight male ally let me put my lips on this unconscious black women to show how woke and straight I am” ……..topher bud….

Why is George Washtion Clever peanut man getting bigger??

Mr b using a short to cover his head <3

Ew why is jfk vice like that….

“Lo-fi haunted ghost screams” 👀

Smart jfk…Joan taking the lead. I feel like something bad will happen OR this is a dream.

:0 DJ Mr b!!!!!!

Cannibal dessert zombies….. scary!!

JFK calling people darling is cute :) <3

If jfk brain is smarter while in hot weather/if he’s overheating why didn’t this happen when he’s in the gym or doing sports? 👀

Smart jfk face : ☺️🫤

The husbands trying to snort each other 😏👀

Arroyo are gully in southwestern us….meaning the clone home is somewhere between Texas and California….

Joan wants someone who is emotionally intelligent and emotionally available….she and Abe become friends again……I’m guess they’ll end up together?

Episode 8

Oh snap they actually broke up! Also they co-own a tortoise? Cute

..,,,making the whole school sexual……😬 interesting…

“Where do you want the seaman to drop their load”

“For starters in my mouth” HA….🫵🤨 I know what you are doc

Frida having a crush on Cleo! Was not expecting that…Cleo doing her weird flirting again…was DEFINITELY not expecting that….

Harriet x Confucius is a cute ship….their such nerds <3

😬😬😬 the teacher flirting with Abe…:ma’am that not ok

“Virginity is a social construct” asexual Abe real!!!!!!!

I was going to say seaman I love you but I realize that sounds absolutely horrible out of context….

Singing pirates I love you and you talking about lgbt identity..

Topher the pirates thing you’re into Abe….. 👀

JOAN DONT PUT THE TOURTISE IN THE WATER JOAAAAAANNNNNNN!!!!!!! Oh thank goodness Abe rescued the pet

“It’s ok if a minor and a teacher are together” not the fuck it’s not lady!!! Topher why are you filming this???? Call the police????? Topher please 😬😬

Oh thank god she dead. But ahhhhhhhh still hella uncomfortable!!!!!!!!!

The “statutory-rape-death-by-orgasm situation is very troubling” MR B WITH THE FACTS!!!!!!

“So we’re not telling the police?” You can Mr b! Please call the police. Mr b I love you so much for looking out for the students.

Topjer blackmailing Abe because he (topher) is into Joan…..🤨🤨 are you topher?? Are you really??

One one hand, I’m like this is a stupid subplot, Abe just tell Joan how you feel who care about topher and his blackmail. But on the other hand, this situation kind of feels realistic? Like a weird way to talk about victim blaming?

Oh thank god something positive in this shit show….yippie Cleo and Frida got together!!!

Joan underwater with the emotional music…her screaming underwater…..cinema™️ :) Joan and jfk having a nice talk :)…:noooo rip Shelly the tortoise

Background gay couple yay :)

Episode 9

Noooo the husbands are fighting AGAIN….oh yay Joan and Mr b time!!!

Omg Mr b lore!!!!

He has a human twin brother??? HES RELIGIOUS????? Oh snap biracial Mr b 👀

Wait nevermind…. Awww Mr b didn’t know he was a robot :( and nether did his twin

:( noooooooo!!!!!!!! He left his brother 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

OH MY FUCKING GOD Mr b was a sex worker

Noooo Mr b please contact your brother!!!!!

Awew yay Mr b life getting better!!! :0 he got married!!!

Noooo his wife cheated on his and his son wasn’t biological his!!! :(

YES!!!! The twins reunited!!! :0 awew he’s an uncle now!!! Wow 2 nices and 2 nephews!!

NOOOOOOOOOOO HES BROTHER DIED!!!!!!

👀 Mr b was an actor!!!!

🥺 awww he thinks of Joan as his daughter!!!!!!

NO MR B DONT DO IT!!!!!!!!

Oh thank god doc saved him!!!!!!! 🥺

Oh my goddd…..the cliff!!! The choices!!!!!!!

THETE FAMILY AND HE CRIED!!!!

Favorite episode!!!!!!!!

Episode 10

Oh thank god, it’s the last one!!!!

Ponce’s dad is back!!! :)

It’s the last day of the school year…the teens are 16, so there sophomores???

Clone high college :0 oh!!! I was wonder what would happen to the senior class!!

West Dakota?????

Since the sisters didn’t make it into the death maze, do they life? Get immediate killed? I forgot that the government is trying to groom the most successful clones. So I guess this is a survival of the fittest….and since the OG clones were from the first project, this is a very new things. (Trying to make a mental timeline thing.)

The four amgias….

NOOOOO VINCENT DIED (maybe not?)

4 boys who are friends-ish

4 girls who are friends

Battle of the sexist 👀

Also both groups are the main cast….ok not topher he’s more of a side character…but still..

Yay Abe and jfk friendship :)

Ok so this is my 2 favorite episode.

This gives me minor hunger games vibes. The whole government watching kids fight to the death part; not the trying to stop the government and corrupt dystopia part…

Oh hey! That weird one type flute thing, forgot about that! :)

Frida has 2 different shoelaces :)

Joan leaving the group because Frida chose her girlfriend over Joan. I mean, that understanding to be angry, but I don’t think she should leave the group….

Yessss jfk breaking topher phone!! :) now Abe won’t be blackmail anymore!!!

Gay energy jfk x Abe

Lone wolf Joan….hmm maybe she is the most powerful/sussefual clone they made? 👀

Joan setting traps to capture her friends!!!! She IS the most dangerous clone!!!

Ok Joan keeps putting people into holes, either she doing that so she the only one to hit the button and go to college OR she doing that to save everyone from the death maze?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHJHH Joan foster mom standing by Joan, using her daughter and grooming her to be the next leader!!! AHHHHHH I love it!!!!!!! Sidhaisn

!!!!!!!!! Them using the clones as backups!!!! Me think how it was weird that the government would let a clone die so easily!!! They won’t!!!!! The government controlling them to be successful puppets!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!! The angst, and tension!!! The betrayal!!!!! Love it!!!!!

👀🥺 doc think of the clones as his children!!!!!!

They lost their memories!!! But Joan giving it back!! Her caring about her friends!!!!

Oh my god the stupid little hands gesture!!!!!! <3

….

That’s it??? THATS the ending? The mother showing everyone what Joan did during the death maze? And everyone being anger at her?

Ok, I feel like the twist to that, if there a season 3 is that her friends will forgive her.

Ok! Thought time!!!!

Ok, the fist half of this so is ROUGH! Like it has an idea (government wanting to groom the kids to be a successful leader) but the comedy and drama got a bit out of hand for the plot. I think want to say around 7-8 is when the show gets more, lore like? Or as close to plot as possible.

This season is VERY Joan centric. It gave her SO much character development. At first I thought it wouldn’t work, it made Joan feel like one of those not like other girls, and loser girl gets popular troupe. The whole love triangle with jfk and Abe was a bit rough. It was weird that Joan decided to be with jfk, after sleeping with him on prom night. But I guess since Abe was with Cleo and Abe only paying attention to Joan after she change herself, it make a TINY bit of scene.

The writing try to make it seems like Joan still loves Abe with that sexual dream she had, but I feel like after that episode, it wasn’t brought up again until episode 7. When Joan wanted jfk to be more emotionally invested in her. Also the whole Abe being in love with Joan? Also the random Abe getting mistreated it felt…..odd?

As for the other characters; out of the OG cast (Abe, ghandi, Joan, Cleo, jfk) only jfk had some character development. At first he was sexual with some emotional intelligence (when he comforts Joan at prom, him and Abe talking in the thinking dock, the whole ponce situation)….in season 2 he was more sexual with some minor emotional scene. I feel like episode 7-10 is were jfk is the most emotionally here.

Cleo….she basically only has 2 episodes for her character development. Episode 4, and Episode 7-8. In episode 4, she gets the crown and gets power hungry, after Joan apologizes to Cleo, she and Joan become friends-ish. In season 1 Cleo and Joan spend a lot of time together, because their parents were dating. They mostly argue but were friends-enemy? So Season 2 feel both a continuation of their season 1 relationship AND just a way to re-write Joan and Cleo relationship.

As for the other episodes? It basically her and Frida because friends to lovers. To be honest while the ship is cute, I wish it was more slow burn?

As for the new clones Harriet and Confusious. I’m mixed. Togher they make a cute couple. But separately I like them more as individuals. Harriet is the most developed out of the 3 new clones. She was awkward and a bit anxious (I think?) around episode 1, then as the show progressed she only hang around Frida, then she became closer friends with Joan. In episode 5 it’s really were Harriet feels the most….developing? She gets angry and worried over feeling Joan about how she feeling about the play! But she expresses herself and that cool!! She also has a weird little friendship with Frida, the 2 of them make a weird little group.

Confusions. At first I didn’t like, he was just a random guy who I hate his outfit. By episode 5, he gets some personal! He wants to have people pay attention to him! And by episode 6- 7, that when you know I bit more about him! He has a rich family who ignores him! His family likes his sister more and seem to emotionally neglect him. He’s a bit lazy and like to go with the flow and not have to work.But besides that…..I can’t think of anything else to say?

Frida. She’s…..there. She hangs out with Abe and Joan and Cleo sometimes. She paints, skateboards, and is the most popular girl in school. Besides that? There not a lot of info about her. It seems like this season had a few too many characters so they made Frida fade into the background…

At first I hate the new Joan new mom. (Candid? I can’t remember her name) I felt like she was a random character that didn’t need to be there. I felt like she was just there to replace the doc and just be annoying? But as the show progressed she was more of a background character that was silly. As for the final; I feel that were she shines the most!! Her wanting her foster daughter to rule the world, that idea is so cool!!!!! I love how she talk to Joan, how proud she was, and how she was going to use the clones as backup or to try to make them more perfect!!! She’s a character a feel like could work If she wasn’t stuck in a comedy.

My b my beloved <3

Topher is a dick. Hate how he blackmails Abe and try to push him and the gross teacher thing. Hate hate the show decided to do that. Like man!! If topper was really into Joan and wanted to blackmail Abe he could have done it a different way!!!!

The humor in this show….don’t feel there? I had like, a few chuckles but that was mostly because from the Doc. Or like from physical gags like the slow float or the couch catching on fire. The animation is fluid and I could see it like, a few times. The colors are a bit brights but I love the background!!! As for the voice acting….its a hit or miss.

5/10

Very Rough start but love the final 3 episodes.

#clone high season 2 #clone high #my thoughts #long post #clone high spoilers #fandom

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theallsngeye · 1 year ago

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on the artist & the world:

(excerpts from an interview for a peer’s essay)

To truly & fully speak on my experience and values as an artist, I feel like I have to give some preface to who I am as one.

*i am both a musical & visual artist, so although this is predominantly in the context of visual art; my philosophy and terms of origin still remains for the former*

I am a self taught abstract artist. I have no former training, no classes, no college. I have no knowledge of color theory or the inter workings of mediums or materials. I feel as blank as the canvas most times.

But I say all this to say that I feel like due to my lack of knowledge and understanding of art, I tend to view it all more spiritually. In a broader sense, I see creativity as being something completely beyond us.

I am merely but a vessel for the ever flowing presence of creativity.

But I mean in todays world, does ANY of that shit matter if it doesn’t have capital gain?

Apparently not.

Every artist is faced with having to equate a value to their work. Work that shouldn’t be measured in any sense. Art that should just exist. As should the artist.

So to combat a world of social media, brand building, content creation; NOT to mention imposter syndrome, financial stability, ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE, systemic oppression and on and on…

I propose the true artist should practice in something I call: creative abandon. (yes, i believe there is a distinction between artists and their intentions and ethics but that’s a conversation for another time)

sounds super dramatic, but it’s simple I promise.

The world is over saturated at the fact that it’s at our fingertips. I believe that’s just the universes call to embrace humanity. Reach within and not out.

What do we love besides what the world and the internet tells us to? Go find the shit that resonates with YOU the most. Do what YOU want to do and simply don’t give a fuck about what everybody says or does.

Abandon the world. Fall into self. Know your Soul. Embrace Creativity. Be You.

Be willing to learn and adapt because you are just a human trying to live and create, and you didn’t ask to be in this ever changing ass world. But all we can do is be water and find our peace in the wind.

And yes, as much as I hate it too, I guess I have to post my art on social media, even if it only gets like 10 likes lol.

I don’t know if it’s my hubris or my confidence but any piece of work I do, I feel like it can change the world or at least garner some sort of love and praise. Confidence is healthy right?

And if I feel like that, I’m sure that there’s artists that share that feeling and experience. I post something I put my heart into on the internet and the reciprocation is short to nothing.

So I started managing my expectations and perspective. Social media brought forth comparison in an ungodly amount. I stopped reaching out and reaching in.

I’m aware that my world is just as valid as the world going on around me. My ecosystem, my little corner of the internet and the world is enough. If the world beyond me one day gets to love and see my work, that would be lovely. But for my own mental health sake, I had to learn how to remind myself that MY WORLD, no matter how small or large, is enough.

I don’t think you get through all this without an extreme unconditional unending love for your art.

…

To Summarize:

- The key to life is your will to learn.

- Be like water and the wind.

- Manage your expectations, but fuck that. I personally practice NO EXPECTATIONS but to each his own.

- Your world and art are just as valid & significant as the the same artist who has a million followers.

- Really love this shit. Please show that you care. Love the art.

and please, remember you’re human.

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m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months ago

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No because Aoyama is a really REALLY uh quirky? I won’t get into it much but iirc he’s half French or something so they really played into the “oui oui fromage” type stereotype with his personality SHEGSHS

Im crying the bro zone LMAOOO honestly the Karasu sibling dynamic felt soo natural to me so good job LMAO I get what you mean! Like sometimes the sibling dynamic feels a little off if it’s too like….lovey dovey for lack of a better term?? Esp compared to what most sibling dynamics are even stereotyped to be like LOL

Otoya a real one fr >>>> really an undercover wingman like bro did not even grab a shirt or pants just walked out like ok bro the rest is up to you

LMAOO omg Karasu change up?? I bet the theme would be FIRE honestly that’s me with like any wallpaper/background/pfp I switch relatively often because I get bored HAHA

LMAOOO everything comes back to Karasu he’s everywhere…it’s ok time to lock in!! No more Karasu from now on /j ok but WAITTT if you made a long series you KNOW I’ll read it the second it comes out!! I’m ngl I got second lead syndrome too reading hollyhock with Karasu HSHSKAHSKA I’m curious would it be a completely diff au/verse or a hollyhock branch?

Also pause…don’t be shy post the smaus LMAOO dw we share the same mind I can put together the context pieces

- Karasu anon

PLSSS the way i’m in france rn…maybe that’s what secretly influenced me DHDJSKSM in my mind bfb aoyama is a very square looking dude?? idk how to put it but in my mind he has a square face, short brown hair, probably not super tall but kinda wide in a muscly way 🤔 he’s def athletic but very much so gives background character energy 😔 like he INVENTED being an npc 😭😭😭 the closest i can think of for a character that resembles him is imagining what young kusakabe from jjk might look like?? idk

siblings in media either say bro and sis way too often for it to feel natural (my brother and i do call each other bro but it’s in a buddy way not a “brother please bring me my water” “okay sister” way ykwim), are way too openly affectionate, or are horribly toxic there is hardly ever any in between 😩 i wanted it to be obvious that yayoi teases tabito a ton and maybe sometimes too much but at the end of the day she’s got his back and does care abt him (and vice versa ofc!!)

okay idk if it’s funnier to think that he knew y/n was coming so he thought he should change into smth better before she got there so he could go out but she caught him at a bad time so he just to roll as he was OR if he knew she was coming and that he’d have to leave but he just thought to himself “nah wtvr this is my fit tn the world can live with it” honestly both are in character because he’s such a dumbass (affectionate)

EEK IT MAY HAVE TO HAPPEN there’s just not any panels or arts of him that scream header to me though especially not following my current theme’s layout…ig i would have to do smth similar to my nagi theme from the beginning of the summer if i did!! we will see hehe

KARASU IS INESCAPABLE FR he’s just so perfect 🥹 i think it would probably be a completely different verse!! the plot and ending i have planned for hollyhock is very dependent on y/n loving otoya specifically so now i just associate the whole sengoku period vibe with eita…also historical au’s are harder for me to put out because the writing time gets doubled due to the necessity of research!! hence why i can’t work on hollyhock on the plane 😵‍💫 i’m not quite sure what au i would go for…i’ll have to do a deep dive and listen to some audios/watch some edits to see what inspires me!!

LMAOAOAO okay be prepared for crack they’re so stupid but i’ll give a little context for the verse so yk what’s going on!! also the queen of miraverse ocs makes an appearance in them 🤩 i’ll only post the bllk ones i’ve made because those are the most recent/relevant to our convos but trust i have many

#answered asks

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evansencezz · 2 years ago

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RAREPAIR SHIPS WITH MY OWN OCS—🎰

notes: i know i know, basically non-cannon ships, slight age-gap, lots of queerness, also showing off my new oc updated personalities and pronouns if i did change them

—Astro x Aether: Middle children

—okay okay just here mw out on this one i swear

-so so they are around the same age, astro being older month wise

—but this is so obvious and cute to me like one day i was just like: “what if astro and aether dated?”

—also i changed aether’s sexuality to be omnisexual but with a prefrence for woman

—and i feel like they’re relationship would just be constant flirting but aether taking it more jokingly while astro being more serious

—and because aether only flirts with people that are more shy then him i feel like astro being extremely blunt and flirty towards almost everyone would make him shy and giggly

—*vine boom sound effect*

—oh fuck did i just drop faceclaims too yes i did

—yes lee felix has aethers face just shut the fuck up

—people when i mention that aether owns a whole ass casino: 😱😱😱🔥⁉️⁉️🤩🤩🥳🥳🥳😎☹️☹️

—yeah but support the movement of astro x aether for sex

————————————————-

—Hiraeith x Tyler: Annoyed X severe flirt syndrome

—okay i know this isnt really a rarepair i just havent made a post on it yet

—but this AU is so fucking funny and i luv the mafia side of it like hiraeith is so fucking annoyed by his shit and he just blinks cutely

—hiraeith: “after this, i’m done with you!”

—tyler: “no ur not lol”

—but i feel like it would be her bickering half of the time and him just being un-bothered.

—please leave me alone this ship is so stupid

—oh nooooo i dropped my faceclaims again even though they arent as atturate as aethers and astros

—they are basically complete opposites or married

—tyler is so fucking stupid and touching i hate him

———————————————————————————-

DROPPING SOME OC HEADCANNONS AND QUESTIONS I GET HERE TOO;

—“what if akari just pulls a one eighty on us and tells us that everything that’s been happening in the main au is in someones head or not real.”- friend

-i would never do that to you guys and i cant just ditch my ocs like that bruh

—“what was the first ship you ever made?”-another friend

-KAI X THERIEAN LETS GO BABYYYYYY (it was akari x jiren)

—“what’s your most hated character?”- follower

-probably a tie between maya or arashi 😱

-justice for maya on my life bro she is my skrunkly meow meow and i luv her soooooo much :33

—“why do i write mainly either romance or depressing shit.”-friend

-because all my ocs are litterally emo and have trauma and i need something to balance that shit out also romance makes me lose my shit because romantic comedy is so fucking funny for no reason luv that stuff

-“hi! i’m new here, just to clarrify, akari the character isn’t ment to be like yourself insert or anything right?-follower

—nope! akari is just the name i’ve been going by for two years now. it’s also not my orginal name so yeah, i have a deadname ☠️

——————————————————-

HEADCANNONS;

Hiraeith-

-defentily would own a casino with aether and be a card dealer

-here’s some lines i think she would have;

-“who told you that? actually- no. let me guess, aether? i fucking knew it.”

-“this is all aether’s fault.”

-“well yeah, i was in prison for a while. not more then aether though, and mine was in rapture. i dont think they liked me that much.”

-“what the fuck did you do now?”

-“aether is older by three months..i don’t get too caught up on it. she’s a little stupid but i think she means well..I THINK SHE DOES..”

-“don’t take anything that moron says seriously. half of the absoutetle bullshit that comes out of her mouth makes me want to shove a knife down her throat.”

-“or maybe you just suck? ever thought about that?”

-her zodiac sign is scorpio btw

——————————————————————————-

Aether—

-like said before, he’s defentily my more morally grey character

-has a restraining order and DUI placed on him, to which he broke both lol

—very friendly and half of the stuff he says he doesn’t mean to be taken in the way it comes out as

-lines;

-“oh! you met hira’?? what do you think of her? yeah, she’s a little defensive at first but she’s a sweetheart. also, she sticks to a more..moral code then me.

-“hira’s bailed me out like six times at this point.”

-“guys, hiraeith is our sugar mommy what do you mean.”

-“what the fuck do you think it is? vodka and ceral, obviously….ha! no, i’m just fucking with you! HAHAHA!”

-“wha- of course not! i’m not that naive jesus!”

-her zodiac sign is leo btw if it wasn’t obvious

————————————————————————————-

Suimuki—

-the one and only the love of my life in the rogue au if u couldn’t tell im having rogue au brainrot

-she’s so funny in the rogue au though god someone help me im being strangeled

—defentily has nerve damage from carpal tunnel and SH

—hands and fingers dig into her collar bones when they are visible ong

—her hair gets all frizzy and her eyes go all big and panicky when something goes out of plan and gets extremely stressed

-has a crush on killian and its so bad bro

-lines;

—“did you need something? otherwise i’ll- oh..you want me to help you with reading? pfft-how old are you? what are you even- oh! wait-that’s one of my books! give me that!”

—“don’t fucking listen to jin, half of the actual shit that comes of her mouth is stupid.”

—“i wanna eat clean things so bad maybe its because i around constant dirt but my god .”

—“shits fucking wild omg”

-“this guy is just a big fucking asshole, huh?”

—“fuck you and your mother!”

————————————————————————

Ace—

—i luv her so much in this au oh my god

—litterally only cares that she gets paid and keeps the person whose misson she’s carrying out isnt shady

—main member of a rogue band

—likes rain alot but protects the person hiring her from it with an umbrella made out of magic

—her whole left arm up till her bicep has her mark of the arcane which has a vine like pattern and its a faint teal color

—lines;

-“all that matters is that i’m paid of my job, i dont care if you think my actions are appualing or not.”

—“i prefer to be more of a grey area, not many pepple like me.”

—“what- that’s not funny or cool at all! you-ugh! just on!”

-“godess?? seriously? i don’t think im a godess im just a adventurer..”

—————————————————————————-

Akari—

—ofc u know i had to mention my skrunkly menow meow :33

—she’s so cool in this au and mother ugh

—how did this become a headcannon and ship thing about rogue au what

—she defentily wasn’t expecting into get into a school uptop and freaked the fuck out when she did

—more relaxed in this au but can be serious when she needs to be

—defentily has been in prison multiple times :3

—avid wine drinker like how is her kidney not dead

-firm believer in chaotic yet influencer drumk akari

—her hair is way more disheleved and curly yet still long in this au she also has blue stripes throughout it

—also has both her eyes in this au but has a scar right below her left eye

-i luv her so much oh my god

-lines;

—“what, you mean like- uplanders? oh boy..”

-“hang on!” “well obviously, i don’t feel like being dragged down to hell just yet!!”

—“i blame all my problems on astro and they have no problems with it.”

—“whose the delusional one, now?? celeste is my favorite by the way!”

-“i’m not a bad person! i mean, i’ve killed like two people! but that wasn’t my fault!”

-“at this point, i wouldn’t be surprised if astro stole the document from me and said; “just kidding! of course they wouldn’t want you akari! your a downdweller!”

———-

#author #fanfic #oc #wattpad #writers on tumblr #orginal post #orginal work #writing #anime and manga #fashion

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persephonescottage · 3 years ago

Text

PONY | 01.

Pairing: Billy RussoxFem!Reader

Summary: Billy has to renew his passport after his accident and meets you at the library. He is instantly infatuated, to say the least.

Warning: References to sexual situations, swearing, obsessive thoughts. Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include stalking, somnophilia, CNC (between two consenting adults), knife play, age gap, Stockholm syndrome, and other triggers I will include as we go along, please only read if you’re 18+. If any of this warnings trigger you please don’t read.

Disclaimer: I am not from New York and I’ve never been there, lol. Every reference to neighborhoods, buildings or distances I got from the internet, please don’t judge me on it.

This is set in that lovely AU were Billy never betrayed Frank (that I believe is now canon in the fandom I don’t make the rules).

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance.

♥

The city was blooming in the middle of May. The sun was out, the cherry blossoms covered the tourist filled sidewalks and Billy groaned out loud while climbing the stairs of New York’s public library.

William Russo was a CEO, a self made (kinda) millionaire, he shouldn’t be making his own errands. In fact, he usually didn’t. So why was he, New York’s most eligible businessman looking for the line to get a passport?

Billy had a business trip in two weeks. He was supposed to fly to Japan and back in a couple of days. So when he found out his passport was expired he had sent his assistant Angela to the nearest post office, only to see the redhead come back to ANVIL with empty hands and a frown on her face.

The post office needed a new picture taken for an identifying document if you’ve had any surgery or altering to your face. Unfortunately he qualified.

Billy smiled at Angela when she shyly told him about the demands of the Department of State. He said it was no big deal and he would go down himself the next day. But he lied, it was a big deal and he was he was terrified.

After his “accident”, six months before, Billy hadn’t taken a single picture of himself. He stopped going to social events, specially the ones he knew Page Six would be at and had even gotten rid of a couple mirrors in his house.

Frank had scolded him for it, because as much as he enjoyed his brothers company on Friday nights at home with the kids, Billy had always been a social butterfly.

He felt his hands twitch slightly as he reached the library’s service desk, meeting a mean middle aged woman who never looked up from her screen and only pointed him in the direction of a line with a blue sign that said US passports.

He really hated bureaucracy.

The building was filled with the echoes of whispers and chairs dragging thanks to the high painted ceilings, the noises made his anxiety peak and he could feel a bit of sweat start to form on his forehead.

It smelled of old carpets and humid book pages, slightly masked with a cheap coffee aroma that somehow perked him up and depressed him at the same time.

It had been years since he’d been at this specific library, and he hadn’t been there in the best of circumstances. He looked around, a hundred year old building with four stories and ornate detailing was guaranteed to feel haunted, even if it was full of people, so Billy blamed his alert senses on the memories.

Until he saw you.

Wearing a plaid pencil skirt and a green cardigan you walked to the man first in line. Your hair in a high ponytail with a delicate black ribbon tied in a bow at the base and Billy swore he could smell orange blossom on your skin, even though he was about five people back in line from you.

And then you smiled and that was it. Danger. His mouth went dry and his jaw clenched hard.

He could barely hear the tone of your voice whispering to the man, explaining a couple of forms to him while grabbing his arm and Billy felt his cheeks getting hot.

Was he angry you were touching an elder man?

You obviously worked here.

And when he saw you take the man directly to a counter near and place his hands on the old cherry wood it was made of, your hand on his elbow now helping him touch the surface, then it hit him. The man was blind.

A guilty feeling kicked him on the stomach. He saw you for ten seconds and had been a hundred percent ready to jump a blind man for touching you. Danger, he repeated in his mind.

“Sir?”

The voice of an angel reached his ears and Billy looked up, hoping it was one of the cherubs painted on the high ceilings and not reality. But he wasn't that lucky. You had called him sir and he could feel a semi in his pants.

He wanted to hear you say it over and over again, on your knees, while he pulled from that ponytail until your cute voice was hoarse and tired. He adjusted his posture hopping it would mask the tightening of his body.

“Do you need help?” You repeated and he cleared his throat.

“Do you work here?” He managed to say, in a ridiculous question, to gain time.

His voice sounded strange to him, as if he wasn't the one talking, and had to force an awkward smile when you pointed at the gold badge on your right breast while nodding yes.

The upper button of your sweater was undone and there was a dainty gold chain hanging from your neck. A letter charm hung from it. It was your initial. He wished you had his initial there too, so close to your delicious breasts and soft skin.

“I’m renewing my passport, but I need to change my photo.”

He hopped you hadn’t noticed the way his eyes lingered over your badge (while his brain just screamed TITS!) and he shook the small packet of pictures he had taken at a sketchy drugstore down fifth avenue. You smiled for him again getting a little closer and he forced himself to not close his eyes and just smell the orange creamsicle scent from your neck.

And then he remembered the scars.

He took a small step back, as if that could hide them from you. What had you thought of his scared face? Where you scared? You didn’t look it. But the little confidence he had walked into the building with was completely gone.

“Sure, that’s easy! You walk down that isle with the green carpet and when you reach the kid’s section you turn to your left. It’s easy to notice, it’s got fake trees and a couple Dr. Seuss cardboard characters. The lady on the desk will help you fill your form.”

You finished with a smile putting your hand down from where you were pointing to the east wing of the library and he felt like he could breath again as you stepped away.

He almost told you he knew exactly where the section was. Almost revealed to you his younger self hiding from the dangers of the streets inside libraries. He had to get a grip, he didn’t even know you and you probably didn’t care about a random disfigured man’s sad past.

But you were just so bright and so sweet, your voice soft to not disturb the guests of the building, that when you stepped back he almost thought he would hook your waist with his arm to pull you back to him and kiss you right there. Bridal style too.

“Thank you sweetheart.”

“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He could think of a couple of things he needed from you. Your number, your thighs squeezing his head, your throat around his fingers, your hand in marriage?

The list was endless.

You turned around and approached the next person in line, a twenty something woman who needed some form for ancestry information, and Billy rolled his eyes at her having your attention for something so useless.

You were a tropical paradise and as soon as you took a step back behind him his environment turned dry and cold.

Shaking his head slightly he started to move in the direction you told him too, your soft whisper getting weaker and weaker as he navigated to the kid’s section. But not before making a bit of research online. He had a first name and a place of work and he was going to use them.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #my writting #Stalker!billy

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insertdisc5 · 3 years ago

Note

Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!

thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)

spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk

not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts

-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol

-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!

-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)

-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN

-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD

-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;

-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)

-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste

-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.

-noelle. noelle. girlboss!

-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself

-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!

-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.

-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!

-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in

-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.

-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)

-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)

-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp

-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like

-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES

-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.

-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?

-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?

-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!

-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows

-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0

-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing

-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you

-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard

that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk

#ask tag #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #snowgrave spoilers

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ahtsumu · 4 years ago

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

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incorrectgreekgods · 4 years ago

Text

My Friend’s Opinions On Various Greek Gods From Greek Mythology

Let me preface this by saying- I’m the one into mythology. My friends are going off of a two month unit three years ago and whatever mythology they’ve read/absorbed from modern media. None of this is taken to be offensive, and it is all based off of Ancient Greek Mythology and not hellenic polytheism.

Now! Here are five of my friend’s impressions:

Isadora

Zeus - whore Poseidon - water Hades - meanie Persephone - gets caught by meanie Demeter - no fuckign idea Hera - i think she's a mommy? Hestia - also no fucking idea Athena - big brains Hermes - hehe that's my bestie Apollo - golden hourrrr Artemis - baddie asf Hephaestus - big muscle blacksmith Aphrodite - pretty Ares - meanier meanie Dionysus - naked drunkard

Santana

Zeus - needs to keep it in his pants Poseidon - water guy Hades - vibes=immaculate minus him being like a killer Persephone - she’s chill funny Demeter - idk this man Hera - a little jelly of her mans but she’s chill Hestia - idk this girl Athena - thriving Hermes - speedy man with funny shoes Apollo - bow and arrow guy i think Artemis - baddie Hephaestus - who is this man Aphrodite - pretty one i think Ares - needs anger management Dionysus - drunk uncle

Sasha (who popped off???)

Zeus ⁃god sky, lightning, etc. ⁃sleeps with literally anything that breathes ⁃Terrible husband to Hera but they somehow make it work ⁃Last son to be barfed up by Kronos ⁃Leader of the gods (but like super bad at his job because the gods are always fighting?)

Poseidon ⁃Water ⁃Likes his angry, drunk cyclops children ⁃Sleeps with a lot of things too but is overshadowed by Zeus

Hades ⁃Death ⁃Hella depressed ⁃Honestly a pretty chill dude until her abducts women ⁃Husband to persephone ⁃The third wheel of him, Zeus, and Poseidon

Persephone ⁃Purple, flowers ⁃Demeter’s daughter ⁃Hot as fuck ⁃Pretty chill after being kidnapped ⁃Married Hades - lil bit of a shady situation but whatever they seem happy

Demeter ⁃Agriculture, growing ⁃Carries a scythe around and honestly that’s so badass ⁃“What sort of women doesn’t have an axe?” vibes ⁃idk what else I mean got super mad when her daughter was abducted but Id be concerned if she wasn’t

Hera ⁃Marriage, family ⁃Kinda ironic seeing as her husband is cheating on her 24/7 ⁃But also their marriage has stayed together so maybe she does have the secret to making a successful partnership ⁃Anyways she is jealous of zeus ⁃OH also she turns the lovers of his she catches into animals which sucks for the lovers but DAMN I love her

Hestia ⁃hearth, home ⁃SO sweet ⁃Nobody on Olympus deserves her ⁃Poseidon tried to marry her which in my opinion was a terrible idea

Athena ⁃Wisdom, strategy, cunning, war ⁃Thriving hard ⁃Big brain moment ⁃Um owl? ⁃Makes fun of other gods while they make fun of her but she always wins

Hermes ⁃Traveling, messages (LMAO originally I wrote massages and now I can totally see it) ⁃Sneaky little shit ⁃Has little shoes with wings and two snakes ⁃Makes stupid mistakes but manages to get out of punishment ⁃Gay ⁃Gay for Apollo

Apollo ⁃Sun, music, arts ⁃Muses (I think he’s slept with all of them right?) ⁃Would 100% be the most followed person on Insta just for his golden hour shots ⁃Pan ⁃Gay for Hermes

Artemis ⁃Hunting, forrest, femininity ⁃Fucking awesome ⁃Sleeps with all her huntresses but it just hits different than Zeus ⁃Bow and arrow and other cool stuff to kill people

Hephaestus ⁃Forge, metal work, armory, blacksmith ⁃Chucked from mount Olympus when he was a baby ⁃Serious daddy and mommy issues ⁃Loves Aphrodite but she is just not on the same level

Aphrodite ⁃Love, beauty ⁃Doesn’t seem to give two shits about anyone but she’s honestly thriving ⁃She and ares are in a thing but she’s definitely owning that relationship

Ares ⁃War ⁃Stupid? idk he seems to loose every war he starts ⁃Loves of Aphrodite but he knows he’s about to lose her

Dionysus ⁃Drunk all the time ⁃Um I literally have no idea what he does other than party and get drunk ⁃Respect for his lack of goals in life

Emily

Zeus - wanna lightning bolt your small dick off Poseidon - cool water guy who made Odysseus’ life bad lol TEAM POSEIDON Hades - underworld dude with a weird ass dog. kidnapped then married Persephone. Reminds me of creepy old men on the internet your parents warn you about. Persephone - fucking hot and should be more appreciative that hades wants her that badly (jealousy) Demeter - seriously please hack my face off w your scythe my agricultural top Hera - milf. that’s all. AND WAY TOO GOOD FOR SMALL DICK MAN Hestia - hearth? Huh? Athena - baddest bitch around. intelligent, owl, blood kink, probably. Hermes - mailman with shoe game. GAY Apollo - music, the sun, def part of the lgbtq+ community. Artemis - BADDEST BITCH AROUND. Huntress, cool weapons, and i would pay so much money to have her rail me dominatrix style ( bring the bow please) Hephaestus - blacksmith right? simps for Aphrodite (as he should). mommy AND daddy issues. Aphrodite - beauty, love, hot asf Ares - war, and has serious anger issues. I’ll give you my therapists card babe Dionysus - drunk all the time, reminds me of moms who have the wine glasses that say “it’s moms turn to wine”.

Norie

Zeus - shitty husband, couldn’t keep it in his pants Poseidon - water guy, hate this mf cause of Medusa, def least fav god Hades - underworld ruler, people who like him think their quirky (Ik cause it used to be me) Persephone - so hot, pls rail me, sry she got stockholm syndrome but like I would be flattered if anyone cared enough to kidnap me Demeter - top, grain mf, could fuck me with her scythe Hera - could top me, needed a good divorce lawyer Hestia - goddess of hearth? Don’t rly know much abt her but like I think she’s the oldest of her siblings Athena - smart one, owl bitch, also a whore for war Hermes - idk remember much, mischief, wings? Apollo - bisexual disaster, music bitch Artemis - hunter, could shoot me with her bow and I would say thank you Hephaestus - no thoughts at all, wait is this the guy who was with Pandora? Idk but like I think he was a blacksmith Aphrodite - hot Ares - war, a little over the top Dionysus - drunk, alcohol addiction rivals isadora’s

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