#this is the end of this silly little conversation

[coffee-and-geto]

“SAY YOU’RE MINE, I’M YOURS FOR THE NIGHT!”

pairing: kento nanami x f!reader

summary: forced to spend the evening with his co-workers, nanami has no idea that the bar he goes to with them is gradually turning into a club where your enticing body catches his beady-eye. so despite his exhaustion and tolerance for alcohol, nanami has every intention of enjoying his evening as much as you do by flirting with him.

warnings: +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, age gap (11 years), fluff, slight domestic at the end, reader is a student, nanami an employee at a bank, needy! nanami, excessive drinking, alcohol, tired! nanami, sex (p in v), fingering (f! receiving), handjob, oral (f + m receiving), balls playing, cowgirl, teasing, unprotected sex, fanart by @/matchapichai on twt.

wc: 4,764

a/n: based on this post. hope you guys will enjoy this silly fic :)

“Come on, Nanami, going to an izakaya will do you good, and besides, the boss won’t be there, you can relax,” a colleague teased insistently.

“That’s true,” another one added, flipping her long chestnut hair over her shoulder in charming, seductive waves.

Nanami suppressed a sigh, fully aware of her futile attempts to flirt with him. She was a much younger colleague who seemed to have been drawn to him since his arrival at the bank where he worked.

“Maybe we could grow a little closer.” She flashed her brightest smile.

Perhaps Nanami gave in, as the dimmed lights of the bar did wonders for his mood — a stark contrast to the blinding lights above his office desk. He sat on a barstool and ordered a dry Martini — his usual choice after a long day at work.

Though he was used to drinking, the perfect man that Kento was stood far from the image of an alcoholic drowning his problems or drinking out of addiction. He was a man of sophistication who valued sobriety but could still appreciate refined tastes. Fatigue often gave him the urge to drink more to help ease into sleep, but he could thank his genetics for inheriting a high tolerance for alcohol from his family (dear reader, note the irony).

So how could he unwind in peace?

The bartender placed his drink in front of him after a few minutes, during which he tried, without much success, to follow his colleagues’ conversations.

The rolled-up sleeves of his blue shirt revealed long forearms with prominent veins that ran down to his large hands with thick fingers. Those fingers absentmindedly stirred his dry Martini, garnished with a thin slice of lemon, while his gaze swept across the bar, stopping when he heard a bell ring — the sign of new customers entering.

In the next second, several thoughts passed through his mind in precise order:

First, the exterior setting gave him a glimpse of the starry navy-blue sky, signaling how late it had gotten.

Then, he noticed a rather large group of people entering the bar, filling it quickly to the point where the noise of conversations was almost drowned out by the background music.

And finally, there was you.

Amidst all the commotion, it was your silhouette that caught his amber eyes. Standing by your side were what seemed to be your friends, with whom you were chatting cheerfully in your elegant evening dress. And as if you felt his gaze on you, you stopped laughing with your friend and turned your attention toward the bar, where your eyes instantly fell on him.

The shared gaze between the two of you intensified the atmosphere, and strangely enough, Kento didn’t seem ready to look away...

...at least not until his annoying colleague with the long hair, whose name he couldn’t even remember (had he ever?), slid up next to him, forcing him to break eye contact.

“Nanami-senpai, are you having a good evening?” she coos, batting her eyelashes, all smiles.

He let out a barely audible sigh. “Fine, and you?”

“Same.”

A slight pang tuggs at his heart, not out of interest in her, but out of pity for her wasted efforts. She was, after all, quite cute, polite, and always so gentle in both her manners and her voice — a true angel fallen from the heavens, yet still unable to reach the blonde.

Time continued to pass, with his colleague trying her best to keep the conversation alive, despite Nanami’s often short, closed answers. Loud, raucous laughter caught his attention, and he glanced over his shoulder.

There you are again.

Sitting on the couch, still surrounded by your friends, you’re deep in conversation, and for some reason, Nanami feels a sudden urge to join in. You seem so warm and charming. The changing lights of the bar shift with each movement of the cherry-red and occasionally neon-purple spotlights. Music now fills the bar, the dance floor packed with dancers, and the muffled conversations serving as background noise.

Just as he’s about to look away from you, you catch his attention by locking eyes with him for the second time that evening. He finds it hard not to stare, resting his elbow on the wooden counter while his thumb absentmindedly brushes his lower lip. You sit down next to him and order your drink.

Your hair cascades over your shoulder as you turn slightly toward him.

“Good evening,” you murmur, barely audible, your cherry-colored lipstick making him want to ruin it with his own mouth. A slight smile curls your lips.

He ignores his colleague, who was still trying to hold the conversation, to respond, “Good evening.”

You glance at his empty glass. “What were you drinking?” you ask.

And Lord, your voice intoxicates him far faster than the sherry ever could.

“Dry Martini,” Kento replies, his eyes fixed on yours. “But I think I’ll have the same as you.”

He gestures to the bartender, and less than a minute later, two glasses of dry vermouth appear in front of you, the clear liquid shimmering in the transparent glasses, with ice cubes floating on the surface.

“You don’t seem like you’re from around here,” you comment, taking a sip of your drink.

“I’m not.”

“I figured as much. You don’t look like someone who enjoys partying.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, almost amused. “Oh really? So what do I look like?”

“Like a salaryman who just wants to go home after a long day on a Friday night,” you glance behind him, “but got dragged here by his colleagues without realizing the bar turns into a club after 10 PM, am I right?”

“Right on the mark,” Kento chuckles.

“Haha!”

“And you? You look like a real party girl,” he continues.

A mischievous smirk tugs at the corner of your carmine lips. “Close enough.”

Kento hums, narrowing his eyes as he studies you. “You seem younger than me.” He pauses. “Still a student?”

“Right on the mark,” you echo his words, taking another sip of your cocktail.

A pleasant silence settles between you two before you decide to break it.

“How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Hmm…” you ponder, squinting slightly. “Late twenties, early thirties. No more, no less.”

“I’m thirty-four.”

You burst into laughter. “Such an old man!” you tease.

“And you?” Nanami counters with a slight smile, raising an eyebrow. “Still a baby fresh out of her mother’s arms, I guess?” He sips his glass of dry vermouth.

“Hey!” you protest, playing along with his teasing. “I’m twenty-three!”

“Really?”

“Really.” You nod, a smile in your softened voice. “11 years apart, but in the end, it’s just a number, right?” You gently bite your lower lip, and Kento doesn’t miss the slightly timid — albeit subtle — tone you’ve adopted, nor the rosy hue creeping up your cheeks.

Is it knowing his age that makes you seem even cuter?

Kento shrugs, downing the rest of his glass in one go. “Indeed, after all, it can depend on cultural norms.”

“Screw norms,” you mutter under your breath, suddenly annoyed, as you follow his lead and finish your glass.

Kento suppresses another smile and orders another drink.

“Aren’t you going to rejoin your friends?” he inquires.

“I have far less interest in them now that I’m in such better company,” you purr.

“I’m flattered.”

“You should be,” you add, moving your seat closer to his. And he can’t help but notice that your blush hasn’t faded.

Nor that a strand of your hair is blocking his view of your pretty face, so he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear. You jump slightly at the gesture but quickly regain your composure, thanking him in a soft whisper.

He pulls his arm back and quickly checks his watch.

“As charming as this company is, it wouldn’t be very wise to stay too late here,” Kento warns, his protective nature resurfacing. The bartender refills his drink, which he immediately begins to sip.

You pout. “Don’t you want to protect me?”

“You want me to protect you?”

"Couldn’t we do more?" you ask hopefully.

“I didn’t say that,” Kento responds, measured, rubbing a hand over his tired face, the alcohol starting to catch up with him. He needed to unwind.

“You seem exhausted,” you comment.

“I am. There’s no ‘seem’ about it,” he sighs.

Your hand — much smaller than his — glides along his exposed forearm. “Let’s go sit on the couches, Mister…”

“Kento Nanami. Call me Kento,” he says. “And you?” He stands up and pays both his tab and yours, despite your protests. All he wants is a name, after all. You finally give it to him with a slight pout, which he quickly erases by slipping an arm around your waist. “May I?”

Your lips part. “Yes.”

You both head toward a couch, half-occupied by a couple making out, too engrossed in each other to notice you.

The rest of the evening continues in the same flirtatious tone as at the counter, with waitresses bringing drinks to everyone, including Kento, who, despite the number of drinks, barely seems tipsy. Only the fatigue is visible on his face, but the smile you give him makes him forget about it as he listens to you talk, his head resting on the back of the couch, eyes closed for a few moments.

He doesn’t immediately realize how or why his head slips and falls onto you.

Or more precisely, onto your chest, exposed by the neckline of your dress.

He immediately straightens up. “Sorry, I—”

“No worries.” You pull him back against you, his face pressed against the middle of your breasts to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks. “You can stay like that, I don’t mind.”

Kento doesn’t argue, instead sighing softly, his large hands finding their way around your waist, gently squeezing as his thumbs trace soft circles over the fabric of your dress. So there he is, half-sprawled on the couch, using the softness of your chest as a pillow.

A comfortable silence settles between you two, filled by the background music from the bar-turned-club.

Yet it feels as though it’s just the two of you.

Kento looks so adorable like this, half-lying on you with his head on your chest — so cute, in fact, that you place a kiss on his prominent cheekbone.

Your lipstick leaves a hot red mark on his perfect skin, and you resist the urge to do it again — especially when Nanami’s cheeks flush, and he gazes up at you with a neediness in his captivating eyes.

“More,” he breathes so softly that the word barely makes it past the thumping beats and cherry-red LED lights. “Please, more—”

“Shhh.” You silence him, placing your finger gently on his thin lips, dying to taste them. Your fingertips gently scratch at the sharp undercut at the back of his neck, slowly moving up to his clean parting, and Nanami hums in appreciation.

“Please, another,” he whispers in a raspy murmur.

“You still look so tired yet so composed, Kento, hmm?” you purr into his ear, and suddenly, his shirt feels too tight around his muscular chest, stifling his breath. “Are you good with alcohol?”

He nods almost imperceptibly.

“How about a deal? For each kiss, you take a sip to help relax those poor shoulders, okay?” you coo, your voice enchanting as your hand glides sensually from his hair to his jaw, then down his neck, finally resting on his broad shoulders.

“Anything you want.”

And now, you’re pressed against each other, a needy Nanami in your arms, covered in cherry-red kisses from your lipstick while one of your hands holds a glass of extra añejo tequila, pressed to the edge of his lips.

You place another kiss on his face — this time, at the corner of his mouth — and Nanami lets out a soft moan, more like a muffled growl. One of his hands grabs your jaw, pulling you toward him, capturing your lips in a kiss filled with desperate, ravenous desire.

A smile curves your lips before you return the kiss he’s silently begging for. The tip of Nanami’s wet tongue brushes against the entrance of your mouth, asking gently for access. You grant it, sliding your own tongue to intertwine with his, humming at the sweet-bitter taste of alcohol.

“Kento,” you sigh between kisses. But he lets out a faint whine, eager to continue kissing you, which makes you giggle in amusement. Your hands gently hold the sides of his head, pulling him even closer to deepen the kiss.

Your breathing quickens, as does his, the tension between you two swelling like a balloon. After a few minutes that feel like an eternity, you slowly pull away, not moving too far — just enough to notice the bulge forming in the crotch of his beige slacks.

A sly smile forms on your lips. “Needy, hmm?” You shift slightly and raise one leg between his, allowing your knee and calf to slowly, discreetly brush up and down against his growing erection with each movement.

Just to tease him.

He clenches his jaw — likely grinding his teeth — trying to contain all the pleasure your touch is giving him. As your leg strokes upward one more time, his dick twitches in his slacks. Immediately afterward, a blush of embarrassment stains his hollow cheeks.

“Sweetheart, not here—”

“So, upstairs?” You wink at him.

Before he can respond, you plant yet another kiss on his lips and pull away. His amber eyes sparkle with desperate need as they meet yours.

“Look at you, Ken, so needy, so messy with that mouth of yours ruined by my lipstick, hmm?” you purr, your forefinger trailing down his blue shirt and toying with the hem of his yellow tie. “You want me? Aren’t you the older one?”

Your teasing was too much for him.

How can a young girl have this grumpy man wrapped around her finger?

That’s wild.

“Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing your wrist when you stop your knee at the level of his zipper, rubbing it in earnest. “You asked for it, so you’ll have it, my dear teaser.” He gives you a faint smile, sliding his rough hands down your waist as he stands up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Kento—”

“No more Kento, sweetheart,” he whispers, forgetting about the crowd in the bar, now fully transformed into a club. A steady sway tells you he’s climbing stairs, and soon, your eyes fall on dark wooden steps. “A room okay? Or would you prefer the restroom?” He flashes a sly grin.

Even though you don’t know him that well, smiling this much doesn’t quite seem like Nanami.

Looks like the alcohol has had its effect on him...

“A room, of course!” you protest, and a genuine laugh echoes in your ears. The blush rises to your face, both from his laughter, which warms your heart, and from the idea of fucking in a semi-public area. Not that you would’ve minded.

“Alright, alright.”

A minute later, in a room with fresh sheets — clearly prepared for any intimate encounters between customers — Nanami is already above you, his tie undone, and his imposing body pinning you against the mattress. His soft lips devour yours with much more hunger, while his large hands caress your body from time to time — massaging slow circles on your waist with his thumbs, gently stroking the underside of your thigh he’s lifted against him, or running his fingers along your torso.

Things heat up further when Kento trails sloppy kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone before teasing the edge of your evening dress.

“May I?”

You nod quickly, helping him get rid of your clothing in no time. Now only in black lingerie, Nanami continues his trail of kisses along your body. Your heart racing, you let out a soft moan as he caresses your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

“Feels good?” He starts to gently pinch them, then takes your breasts in his hands to massage them softly. “So soft,” he murmurs, placing another kiss between your breasts.

“Kento, I want more,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until your crotch is pressed against his obvious bulge. A wave of electric pleasure shoots through your core, making you gasp as you rub against him, desperate to feel more. “Please…”

Your pout tugs at his heart, enough for him to lower himself down to your lower abdomen and kiss it tenderly. “A little lower?” he mutters. He uncrosses your legs after your squeaky “yes” and spreads them, planting a chaste kiss in the center on your clit, which he can already feel swollen even through the fabric. “Here?” He sticks out his tongue, licking the wet spot forming on your underwear and pressing his nose against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Ah—Kento,” you moan, bucking your hips against his face for more friction. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting out more sweet sounds as he seriously begins the foreplay, pulling your panties down your legs and sliding them off completely. “Hmmm! Ah!”

Without waiting any longer, his lips capture your clit, torturing it in the gentlest way — his finger tracing teasing circles around your entrance, which clenches and releases around nothing. “So needy and wet f’me…”

“F-finger, a finger, I want a finger inside me, please,” you babble, panting and squealing.

“You sure? I don’t think you deserve that reward, sweetheart,” Kento tuts, still lapping at your clit as the pad of his forefinger gently taps your damp entrance. “You were such a tease, rubbing my cock through my pants and telling me you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, didn’t you say that?”

He chuckles softly when you pout again, giving him those puppy-dog eyes. “Kento, I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl, I just want you so bad…”

He smirks, savoring your pleading tone. Then, he pushes his finger into you, the tightness making him stifle a groan, though it’s only the first third of his finger. “That’s what you want?” he coos.

“More, please, haa…”

He feels you clench around his thick finger, and the sensation is delicious for him. He slides a bit more of his finger in, pressing the pad against your cervix, causing your back to arch immediately. “How responsive.”

“Kento, please,” you whine, tears welling up in your eyes. Your tight pussy sucks on his finger so perfectly, so how will it handle his fat cock? Shivers run down his spine at the mere thought.

He starts slowly pumping his finger inside you, rubbing against your soft, gummy walls that make him want to devour you. “You’re so wet,” Kento comments, finger-fucking you tenderly, the slick sound evident. He suddenly pulls his finger out with a pop sound, despite your protests, and brings it to his mouth. His tongue wraps around it as he hums. “Tastes so good, sweetheart.”

Your face flushes completely, but you try to shake off the feeling by taking one of his free hands and bringing it to your chest, still covered by your bra. “I want you. Now.”

“You wanna take the lead?” he chuckles, planting light kisses on your inner thighs.

“After,” you murmur, unclasping your bra before sitting up to gently push Kento back onto the bed and straddle him. “I want to play with you a little, then we’ll see.” As you lower your hips, your dripping, naked cunt presses against the bulge in his pants, already swollen from his erection.

The effect on Nanami is immediate. He wastes no time grabbing your hips, holding them firmly to stop you from moving — risking him cumming in his pants.

“God, you’re perfect,” he praises, closing his eyes for a moment, a small crease forming between his brows. “Baby, fuck, I can’t even think straight—”

You cut him off with a deep kiss, your smaller, agile hands quickly undoing his shirt buttons. You can feel the throb of his dick beneath your cunt, with only his pants in the way — and your wetness soaking the fabric in the process.

You gently rub against him, forcing him to let out a sharp breath. His nails dig into your hips as you trail kisses down his chest, pressing a kiss to each of his abs.

“You want more, Kento?” Your voice turns just as teasing as your wandering hands that play with the blond hair above his groin. You move lower, grazing over the growing bulge in his pants, knowing it’s about to burst. “My mouth? My hands? Both?”

“Anything, sweetheart, as long as you touch me, please,” Kento breathes out, sucking in a sharp breath as you swiftly unzip his pants, kissing the length of his cock that now lies across his lower abdomen.

His balls look fuller and more obvious, even through the thin layer of his boxers, and the urge to squeeze them becomes overwhelming. You do, pressing lightly, the squishy sensation making you giggle, while Nanami finally lets out a groan.

“Please, haa, I’m close,” he pants, grabbing your wrists to stop you.

You pout, furrowing your brows. “I’m not done.”

Nanami slowly pulls down his boxers, his hands slightly trembling as he frees his thick, hard cock. “Now you can.”

Without hesitation, you wrap your hand around his length, gently stroking from the base to the tip. Your mischievous mouth moves to his balls, softly sucking on one, which makes you grin — they’re so soft and adorable. Kento’s precum leaks quickly, trickling between your grip and along his shaft, slicking it up.

You stroke him faster and harder until Nanami is reduced to incomprehensible babbling, and he warns you how close he is. “Baby, I’m cumming, I—”

His thick, abundant load spurts, coating your hands and dripping onto the balls you were sucking fervently. “You taste so sweet,” you mumble, licking up his cum while cleaning him at the same time.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, and as soon as he catches his breath, you move up over him again, aligning his still-hard cock beneath your dripping pussy.

“Wanna ride you,” you pout, begging him with your eyes. “Can I?”

“Of course, baby, take it easy, okay?” Kento murmurs, gripping your hips to help you lower onto him.

As the tip pushes inside you, you immediately tighten around him, encouraging him to fill you with his fat, aching cock. You moan loudly as he slides deeper, reaching so far inside you that you can feel him brushing against your womb, so perfectly and heavenly.

“Oh, God— Fuuuck, you feel so good, so perfect, attagirl,” Kento babbles, his lips parted in pleasure, but his eyes never leave yours, watching every wince and every sound you make.

He lets you adjust to him, gently spreading his legs to ensure that every inch he has is swallowed by your greedy cunt. You cry out as he reaches your deepest point.

“Ah, Kento, so fucking deep, so big, I’m so full,” you babble, tears welling up in your eyes once again. Your chest rises and falls uncontrollably, and even when you try to stabilize yourself, it’s hard to resist bouncing on his dick.

So that’s exactly what you do, lifting your hips easily thanks to the firm grasp he has on your soft sides, following the rhythm to gently bounce on him.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing good,” Kento whispers, clenching his jaw to suppress his moans. “Fuck, just like that, tell me if you need more help.”

“Feels so good,” you squeal. "Please, help me a bit." You try to bounce on him a little faster, but it’s much harder than you expected.

The slapping sounds fill the room, and a steamy atmosphere settles in. You lean in closer as Kento helps you bounce up and down on his cock faster and deeper, his grunts and moans escaping. “Want me to fill you up, baby?”

You pick up the pace, your pussy greedily swallowing his length and tightening even more when you hear his words. You moan together, your desperate sounds mingling in the heat of the moment. Meeting Kento’s lust-filled gaze, you reply, “Yes, want to be full of your cum, please, Kento.”

“Anything for my good girl.”

He pulls you against him, taking control even though you’re on top. The scent of sex fills the room, signaling that both of your climaxes are nearing. With his powerful thrusts, he sinks deeper into you, relentlessly hitting your sweet spot, until you’re almost crying from the pleasure.

“I’m starting to get close, sweetheart,” Kento whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your walls tighten around him.

“M-Me too, want to cum on your cock, Ken,” you cry, biting down on his trapezius to stifle your sweet sounds.

“I’m gonna fill you up, okay?” Kento bucks his hips harder into you, the wet sounds getting louder and more steady. You nod and sniffle, tightening around him as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.

“Cummin’, ah!” Your pussy spasms around him just as he releases inside you, spurting thick drops deep into your womb. He groans, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, surely leaving marks that will appear tomorrow.

“Oh, you feel so good, my sweet girl.” Kento keeps thrusting into you, slower and more tenderly now, guiding both of you through your orgasms.

Warm, white ropes leak out of your walls as they milk every drop from him, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

“You’re perfect, my love,” Kento mutters into your neck, peppering your slightly damp skin with kisses.

“I love you,” you breathe, letting your body lay flat against his, unwilling to leave his embrace ever again.

───────────────────────────

When you wake up, the daylight makes you squint, causing you to groan. You turn onto your side and suddenly open your eyes wide.

You’re no longer in the club bed, but in one that’s unfamiliar to you.

A few inches away, a masculine figure half-covered by white sheets is, in fact, Kento, who also begins to stir, his gaze immediately finding yours.

“Sweetheart.”

The nickname warms your heart.

And suddenly, you remember spending the rest of the evening with him, and when it came time to leave, you cried and protested, wanting to stay with him. How could he refuse such an adorable and sweet-hearted request?

“I want to live with you.”

Kento’s eyes widen, and he’s on the verge of choking on his own saliva. “What—”

“You heard me. I don’t want to leave you, please,” you insist, biting your lip. “I want to be your girlfriend, your partner, or even your wife.”

“Hey, easy.” He sits up and pulls you into his arms. “You might still be under the influence of the alcohol. Do you want me to take you back home—”

“No! Ken, I’m serious, please!”

Big, hot tears roll down your cheeks.

Why are you becoming so emotional and stubborn like a child? This childish behavior doesn’t suit the adult you are, and yet…

“Hey, hey, hey! Sweetheart, I understand, please, don’t cry,” Kento whispers, panicking, wrapping his powerful arms around you and pulling you close to him. “You’re really serious? Are you sure about what you’re saying?” He plants a series of sweet kisses along your jawline, sending shivers through you. His thumb wipes away your tears as he gently rocks you.

You nod, sniffling. “Yes, I love you, I realized it after we slept together,” you explain, your voice slightly hoarse. You clear your throat. “Do you… or…?”

“I love you,” Kento replies almost immediately. “I don’t know how it happened, but you’re adorable, stubborn, and an unmatched tease, but I love you, angel.” He pauses.  So, you want to live with me?”

You nod. “Please.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll never leave you, okay?”

You wipe away the remaining traces of tears and gently kiss Kento’s lips, a smile forming as you notice his hair tousled from sleep. “Love ya.”

“I love you too, baby.”

A moment of silence follows, where you both settle into the warmth and comfort of each other until Nanami decides to break the peaceful quiet. “Are you hungry? We can have breakfast together if you want,” he suggests, a soft, tender smile appearing on his face, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach — and even lower — when you see a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

What a perfect husband he’ll make.

“I know how to make pancakes.” You smile proudly.

“Pancakes it is.”

a/n: i want to write more nanami fics if you guys have any idea around him being older pls ask me in my inbox!! also i’m so sorry if my writing sucks actually i’m so exhausted rn and i’m on my period (cramps hurt so bad) 😭

edit: i was writing this last week so yeah, basically i’m also sick this weak and i lost my voice... can you believe me? 💀

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin

also check comments!! there’s people i can’t tag so i do it in comments :) if you want to be added in the tag list, let me know here.

[demonbanger]

18+ | something more | big dick, secret freak friend! Choso x Reader (college age)

synopsis: somehow you and your quiet, observant friend end up fucking. you’ve both been cordial, and you convinced yourself you weren’t that into him because he didn’t seem into you…almost. there’s rumors along your friend group that he’s pretty…hung. looks like it’s time for you to find out, among other things about him. xx

kinks: overstim, spanking, choking, fingering, raw sex (be safe!!), cream pie, Choso is surprisingly dominant and experienced, pent up desire from two oblivious friends

_______________________________

“hic,” a small hiccup leaves soft rosy lips.

“hic-” followed by a little whimper.

a warm embrace surrounds you, but you can’t control the tears and the soft hiccups that come with and make your chest jump.

“hic—”

“shhh, just take it,” he lowly groans, baritone voice almost cracking in the middle of his own sentence. as if you can quiet down your involuntary hiccups. so unfair. but was it ever supposed to be fair?

you’re supported and uplifted by big, warm, hands at your sides,

then he slams you.

down.

squelch.

right.

on.

his.

big,

fat…

cock.

“mmf-oh god,, please!” you let out a high pitched whimper, as he lifts you back up, his thick mushroom tip caressing your velvety walls, nerve endings so riled up right now by any little teasing movement,

and he plops you back down, filling you and giving such a deep stretch your head feels warm and fuzzy. pussy so full, and a head so void.

your friend’s been fucking you for what’s felt like hours, and he’s selfishly pulled out a few orgasms from you for his own sick entertainment, wanting to see you squirm as he plays with your needy cunt. wanting to listen to and relish in all of your little noises.

noises he knows you’re making allll because of him. he’s just that good.

the cocky bastard knows that no one else can stretch you like this, none of your pathetic small boyfriends, or even that one really nice one night stand you were in a situationship with,, and you’re utterly at his mercy now as he pumps into you and stretches you so wide.

“please what?” he whispers, his hot breath on the shell of your ear making you shiver as you hiccup again.

a small smile stretches across his pretty lips. gosh he’s such a fucking tease.

you blink through tears and turn your head back to lock eyes with him, a small sob choking out from overstimulation.

he moves you with those hands of his to grind on top of him as he’s balls deep, and you mewl out a hushed little “oughhh fuuckkk me~” that he secretly loves, your sticky wetness coating both of you at your meeting place, slick drooling down his balls beneath you, even down to the sheets. thighs trembling. clit throbbing.

“hmmmmm?”

you don’t know how to talk logically right now!!! this is so not fair, for him to give you such a hard time. When he’s already giving your poor little weeping pussy such a hard time! why is he so so … mean?

you answer shakily, pouting a little bit. “please, ‘s too much, I’m so full.”

to that he lets out a little mean chuckle. “please do what?” he reiterates. you didn’t answer his question properly. all you said was please but please what? you usually know how to hold a conversation and answer all his questions in depth. why can’t you right now?

how weird.

wonder why…

At another roll of his hips because you’re taking too long to answer, you’re blubbering.

“please - ah - need to cum on your cock, please!! please—please?” you contradict yourself by pleading in wet desperation, melting as he pumps into you agonizingly slow and deep, his movements driving you to the point of going utterly berserk. you can’t help but struggle on top of him but also grinding down on his cock to meet his hips.

he shakes his head, chuckling. you’re such a silly girl! asking for more orgasms when you just said you’re having more than enough, when you’re so overstimulated.

just like how you squirmed away from his hands when his fat fingers pumped inside you earlier, yet you also sucked him in like you didn’t want him to go anywhere. which is it? do you even know what you want?

you tighten around his cock at how he says more with his stupid, fucking, annoying, seductive voice.

“selfish, selfish girl . I guess I can give you what you ask for.” And just like that, he’s fucking right back into you, slow and constant, holding you in place so you have nowhere to go, no matter how much you try to squirm. It’s pointless. Your pussy is getting used for his own pleasure, and of pleasure… he’s absolutely starved. plus, his appetite is voracious as it is so. lucky you, or unlucky.

your eyes close for a beat longer than a second,

but he notices. he notices everything. he just loves to pick on you.

“ah ah ah, you said you want to cum, right?”

you force your eyes open and look at him, biting your lip at how beautifully he drags against your walls.

“mmmhh— yes,,” your eyes roll back at a particularly harsh thrust. he could fucking break you with this thing.

“then look me in the eyes, or else I won’t allow you to cum. It’s bad manners not to look at me when I’m talking to you.”

you listen to him, trying so hard to be good, and turn your head at that uncomfortable angle to look at him, trying so so hard to keep holding eye contact, even though he’s thrusting his length into you so sensually you feel you might cry again. are you drooling too?

he’s hitting what feels like the end of your cavern, kissing your poor cervix, and you see stars each time that beautiful friction and his veins massage your insides.

“mmfuckkk I, I’m sor—ohhh fuck” you gasp when he pushes you forward to fall, and grips your hips so tightly they may bruise a little, then starts slamming sooo deep into you. impossibly deeper…

“aww, Y/N, you’re what now?” he teases, looking pleased you still tried to keep eye contact. The look in your eyes is just so intoxicating right now, you look so fucked out right now. He’s been wanting to see you like this…

You’re a bit shaky but you fight through it to whine out, “‘M sorry, didn’t mean to be rude,” your voice a bit bumpy as his rough fucking rocks you around a little.

“I’ll forgive it, since you’re so good at apologizing. I’m not worried. You’re just have to keep fucking taking it like a good girl does,” he chuckles, and your moaning gets louder as the pleasure is now hanging over your psyche like a cloud, and you’ve already started to rain.

He’s just battering into you, abusing your poor pussy, and now, one of his hands brushes over your clit. Your clit, that’s already gotten so much attention from the first couple of rounds. Oh. You’re so done for.

Your attention wanders because everything is such a blur…

SLAP!!

You let out a tiny yelp.

Your ass stings a little bit.

“Y/N…What did I fucking tell you?”

You’re so fucked out. This isn’t fair. He knows it. Just like how you’ve always been to eachother. Relentless bullying and double standards, except you don’t have it in you to say anything back for the first time ever.

You want to let him win, let him claim his prize.

Your eyes flit back over, so desperate, he can tell how hard you’re trying, and he makes it easier by pulling you up by the neck so your back is to his chest and he’s choking you, your head leaning back on his shoulders.

You grip the hand that chokes you, and he only tightens it. This feels so fucking good, especially because you’ve wanted this and denied yourself of this for who knows how long now.

if only you saw how hot you were in this state, just an absolute ruined mess, totally different from the girl who’s all dolled up at work, tries to be little miss perfect wherever she goes, the girl in the friend group who’s lighthearted enough.

now here you are, face flushed, gasping for air, getting fucked like a little slut, by a guy whose voice you tried so so hard since first knowing him to not find hot.

you denied yourself any thoughts that would creep up, especially when he’d remember something you said a while ago that you thought you mumbled off handedly, and he’d repeat it almost word for word in that stupid sultry voice.

you hateddd how you both hung out and you’d hear implications in the friend group how well-endowed he was. pretended so much to yourself that you weren’t a curious creature, and a little turned on hearing that.

well…curiosity killed that cat.

and he’s definitely killing yours right now with that discovery.

the lack of oxygen to your flustered brain is making you even wetter, and you start to go a little cross-eyed from near suffocation.

the guy friend you’ve had the hots for then starts to take more oxygen from you by kissing you.

it’s hungry. it’s desperate.

he breaks it to rasp, “keep your mouth open.”

since you obey, he spits in your mouth, lets go of you before you run out of air, and you swallow while taking a sharp inhale.

you stick your tongue out, to which he replies,

“good fucking girl, Y/N.”

you’re getting close. You’re getting so fucking close. And he can feel it as you try so hard to catch your breath, but are fluttering around him.

He rubs your clit just perfectly as you chant his name over and over, slaps and whines filling the room.

“Choso, please, need you, please cum inside,” you cry out, begging as you have been, throat raw from moaning so much. you just couldn’t help it….

his hips are beginning to stutter too…his endurance is so fucking good but the way you’re squeezing him; it’s really really hard for him to keep himself together now.

your eyes sparkle, all dumb with pleasure, just wanting his cum in your cunt, and you’re trembling and squirming as he plays your clit like an instrument, his low moans egging you on and only making you clench around him more.

then… it fucking hits you like a ton of bricks and you’re screaming yourself raw as you clamp down on him.

“Cho, oh fuck, ohfuckfuckffuuckfuckfuckfuck,” you slur out, vision turning cloudy.

then you become quiet.

just like that you feel some extra warmth inside you and know he just came inside you too, just like you wanted.

as your high wears down, you both pant. After some time he slips out of you, and you whine at the absence.

“so….uh….what will we tell them?”

__________

thank you for reading :3

honestly I didn’t do much physical description because I was thinking of someone else while writing this the whole time, forgive meh~<3

[sgtpeppers]

Okay so the quick version of this is: saw Two Of Us today, adored it even more than I adore the film, the choice to keep them in John's building worked really well to further highlight the mental health message the director talks about in his little note in the programme, the rooftop scene is somehow even more intimate and lovely in this version and the ending is even more painful! I'm gonna write down more under the cut about it all:

Playlist: The playlist before the show/during the interval is everything you would want it to be and it includes Monkberry Moon Delight which I feel like I never hear in public! 

The overall experience was also just super wholesome, one thing I always love about Beatles events is the range of people there it just makes you feel like your part of such a special thing, so shout out to all the old women talking about Paul near me, the middle aged men in their Beatles shirts, and the girl behind me who was sooo excited to be there and I hope she got to meet the cast after like she wanted to! ALSO the Beatles drinks are so funny, idk why Ringo’s is just earl grey tea 😭

Performances: OKAY let’s get into it. So one of my only real complaints about the film is that although I think overall Jared Harris and Aiden Quinn do an amazing job but I do find the quality a little inconsistent (especially the accents) but Richard Short and Barry Sloane are soooo so good, the accents, the little verbal quirks (which also, kudos to the writer as well) and the physicalities are jarringly good at points, especially Barry Sloane’s John. I also feel like a lot of Get Back was watched in preparation because there were so many little things, like the way John plays with his hair that just took me right back to that. Sometimes with fictional Beatles things I’m constantly thinking about how you’re watching two people try to portray these real people, but I definitely found that they were convincing enough that I wasn’t thinking about it too much. 

Outfits: I did find it kinda weird they went for the Get Back looks rather than how they looked in 76, I feel robbed of the New York City vest tbh but they did look great 

Changes from the film: basically they cut out them going for the walk to the park and to Luigi’s and instead John sets up the table for them like they’re in a restaurant in his kitchen. I think it works really well because they play into John not wanting to leave the building, which just adds into that whole mental health thing, and I think it actually makes the rooftop scene more poignant when they get there, because it feels more like Paul has broken through a bit and coaxed him outside, even if it’s baby steps. Anyway, they still have all the same conversations really the script is just chopped up a bit. 

One interesting thing is that the conversation that happens with the fan in Luigi’s still happens, but John sort of pesters Paul about whether he really thinks silly love songs should be number one, and it’s a nice extra layer to Paul’s insecurity which I enjoyed 

Mental health conversations: I think going into it knowing that the director wanted to make this because of the mental health themes, specifically men’s mental health and how having someone to reach out to is so important, is really interesting. They definitely amped up John’s anxiety from the film, his fidgeting and little moments to himself where he’s trying to get himself together were just so palpable, and Paul talking about his depression after the Beatles broke up was even more raw and upsetting seeing it in front of you. My absolute favourite line in the film is ‘I’m thirty-five years old and I still feel like I’ve done something wrong’ and god, my heart just broke seeing it on stage, I think that’s such a common feeling, just that sense that you’re in trouble for something but you’re not really sure what? Anyway, I just loved Sloane’s delivery of it. 

The Kiss: Okay, look I actually don’t care that much about the kiss in the film, I’m glad it’s in there as a little nod to John’s queerness but it really isn’t anything imo, but I liked it a lot more in this! For one thing rather than coming after a little play fight (which is still cute, don’t get me wrong) they do one of their silly dances where they’re spinning each other round etc, so the scene already feels more tender, and then John just kinda grabs him and it goes on a little longer than in the film. I still think it’s far from one of the most intimate moments in the show, but I do think they made it into something more here. 

Rooftop scene: It’s just. It’s everything. They sit right at the front of the stage, facing each other, cross legged and Paul gives him the whole ‘I see a beautiful baby boy speech’ and it’s PERFECT, this was the moment I was most worried about them screwing up and it was perfectly delivered and they have this lovely big hug after it and it made my heart ache in the best way. And idk, if seeing some guy dressed up as Paul McCartney saying that we should focus on fun and get out our own heads and how we don’t have to stay stuck as the kids who were just scared and trying to survive, doesn’t do something for you, then we’re just very different people. 

SNL scene: okay it’s pretty much the same but the way John is sleeping on Paul was everything, it wasn’t just a head on the shoulder he was fully laying back against Paul!! 

The ending: this is just so brutal because Paul doesn’t leave the flat to get his guitar, he borrows one of John’s and so when Yoko calls and John starts doing the whole ‘I wish you were here, you’re the only one who stops me disappearing’ it’s literally…. In Paul’s face. And it hurts. Then at the very end they cut between John on the phone to Yoko and Paul on the phone to Linda, and so Paul says ‘I love you’ to Linda, then John says ‘I love you too’ to Yoko but it sounds like they said it to each other, and then Here Today plays. The fact most people didn’t appear to be crying baffled me quite frankly. 

Yoko: They decided to have Yoko be the one who actually invited Paul, which felt like an odd choice and didn’t really add anything for me, but there we go 

Okay I’m gonna shut up there because this is way too long and I doubt anyone’s read it but ahhhhhhhhh it was so good and you’re just all lucky I can’t text you because my friends have had much more incoherent versions of all this

[tpwk-formula1]

Kimi Antonelli. I would like to have my pizza with coliflower crust(grumpy reader) with Alfredo sauce. Now for the toppings, maybe with basil, broccoli and Gouda cheese. And for my drink sprite and truly. Maybe mt dew (sub reader) and yes aftercare. THANK U MY LOVE❤️❤️❤️

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower crust sunshine x grumpy Alfredo sweet sex basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” sprite size kink truly belly bulge mt dew dom/sub dessert yes served by Kimi Antonelli

Kimi x Grumpy! reader

TW - riding cock, belly bulge, size kink, missionary, unprotected sex, creampie

WC 1400+

Y/N POV

"Why are you so moody today," Kimi whispered into my ear while pinching my thigh is a "behave yourself" manner.

"I'm not," I snapped whispering back getting more annoyed with my boyfriend. He just rolls his eyes at me before turning his attention back to the rest of the table and joining in on their conversation leaving me to wallow in my own annoyance at my boyfriend.

"Are you good?" Ollie asks keeping his volume down so only I can hear him.

"I'm fine, why does everyone think I'm not," I whisper back at him letting him be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing. I cringe slightly when I realize Kimi had heard me snap at Ollie making him pinch my thigh a little harder.

"I mean you're normally pretty "grumpy" but today you have this look in your eye like you wanna destroy the world," Ollie whispers softly. I just shrug and we leave the conversation there.

He was right though, Kimi had always been the golden retriever boyfriend and I was the typical "black cat" girlfriend, which wasn't necessarily false but Kimi knew the truth. It was just a way to protect myself not wanting too many people getting too close to me, but Kimi spent years working on breaking my walls down, and here we are years later still going as strong as ever. As for the modd I'm in today, it's everyone else's comments on Kimi's F1 announcement that has me wanting to "destroy the world" or whatever Ollie said.

When the dinner wrapped up Kimi and I go back to his hotel room where he finally gets the answers he was looking for.

"It's just unfair Kimi! I mean they barely even watch you in Formula 2 and then the one time they watch you, you crash and while that is embarrassing I'm gonna be real with you BUT that doesn't mean you need to wait," I continue ranting laying in bed with Kimi making him smile but start kissing at my jaw and neck during my rant starting to distract me.

"Watching you get so mad on my behalf, it fucking hot," Kimi mumbles into my neck rutting his hips into my side letting me feel his hard cock through his briefs. I just roll my eyes and laugh.

"I can't believe my very serious rant about hating the fans of Formula 1 has you so horny you're grinding into me," I joke before turning onto my side so I'm facing him and pulling him in for a quick kiss.

Kimi refused to pull away so what was supposed to be a quick peck turned into us fighting for dominance with our tongues. Finally Kimi is pushing me on my back before climbing on top of me pinning my hands above my head all the while keeping his mouth on top of mine.

"Kimi, I need you," I whine against his mouth making him let out a breathy laugh making my pussy throb just at the noise.

"Hm. I wanna watch you bounce on my cock," Kimi said with a smirk before letting me use my strength to turn us over so I was the one on top now.

I start grinding my hips into Kimi's large cock making both of us whimper at the stimulation. I pull my sleep shirt off my body leaivng me in the lacey black panties I was going to sleep in before Im shuffling my body down slightly before pulling Kimi's briefs off letting his hard cock rest against his torso showing just how large he truly is. The tip is barely touching the bottom of his bellybutton.

I instantly start jerking his cock off dwarfing the size of my hand.

"Miracle I can walk in the mornings," I mumble softly making Kimi laugh at my little comment. Losing my virginity to Kimi was terrible and he refused to touch me for weeks after but as time went on we learned how to pleasure each other taking everything slow before I finally got my redo which was amazing.

"I can make it to where you can't walk tomorrow," Kimi said with a smirk written all over his face making my cheek heat at the suggestion. I just shook my head no, knowing tomorrow wasn't a good day for that.

I release Kimi's cock and make quick work of pulling my panties down before I'm climbing back into Kimi's lap. When I grip Kimi's cock I softly tease my clit making me whimper due to how sentive I was, but I needed to collect as much moisture on his cock as possible which wasn't very difficult.

Once Kimi's cock is drenched in my essence I slowly start sinking down making both of us gasp. Once I'm fully seated on Kimi's cock I give myself a few seconds to adjust before I start rocking my hips making both Kimi and I groan at the pleasure.

I start bouncing on Kimi's cock making both of us gasp and moan at the intense pleasure.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," Kimi groans making me speed up my actions slightly but still not going fast enough to bring either of us to an orgasm.

Kimi finally takes over and flips up back so he's on top and he slowly starts pounding into me making me gasp and moan feeling Kimi all over.

"Made just for me huh?" Kimi says with a smirk making me look at him noticing that he was staring at my tummy making me look down to notice the bulge from Kimi's cock.

I moan at the sight of Kimi's cock going in and out of my body slightly stunned at how noticeable it is.

"Fuck, faster please," I whimper while pulling Kimi's neck down to me so I can kiss him while he speeds up his actions making me whimper at the intensity.

Kimi pulls back slightly and starts fucking into me faster than he was previously making me gasp and feel my orgasm start to approach. Kimi knowing my body so well picked up on this and started pushing down on the bulge in my stomach making me feel Kimi so much more than before, it was starting to get almost too intense.

"Too much, slower," I moan and gasp out through a stuttered breath.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” Kimi says with a smirk all over his face. While he kept up the pace he let up just slightly on my stomach.

"I can tell you wanna cum," Kimi says before moving his hand from my stomach to my clit and rubbing it in soft circles bringing me over the edge.

"Fuck," I whimper while arching my back and cumming all over Kimi's cock sending him over the edge with one final thrust before unloading a massive load of his cum deep into my pussy making sure to fill me before slowly slipping his cock out not wanting to hurt my overstimulated pussy.

When Kimi slipped out of my pussy he just sits back on his knees and watches as some of his cum starts leaking out of my pussy.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" Kimi mumbles softly leaning down to kiss my lips making me blush at the dirty praise.

"Do you feel better?" Kimi jokes with a smirk all over his face making me roll my eyes and nod softly making Kimi laugh.

"You take me so well," Kimi says while getting out of bed and pulling me into his arms where he carries me into the bathroom where he puts me on the toilet to do my business while he turns his back and turns the shower on.

After Kimi and I shower together he helps me get dressed into a new shirt to sleep in before helping me step into my panties before laying us both of us on the bed for a cuddle.

"Did I really look like I wanted to destroy the world?" I question feeling back for snapping at everyone today. Kimi just nodded his head softly making me groan while he laughed at me slightly.

"I yelled at Ollie," I state softly making Kimi pull me into his side and place a soft kiss on my cheek.

"I know, I heard. But, if you feel that bad you can apologize tomorrow on the flight back," Kimi tells me softly knowing I won't feel better until I do apologize to Ollie. I just nod my head softly before melting into Kimi's embrace and falling asleep in his arms.

[heyaheiya]

Will you write something about single dad bakugo falling in love with his child’s daycare teacher and her or them feeling the same 🥺🥺 -🦕

Sorry this took so long 😭😭

— — — — — —

Katsuki didn’t plan on ever getting into a relationship again; just him and his darling daughter was enough for him. That was until your stupid face somehow wormed its way into his mind.

His girl, Bakugou Chiyo, had been going to daycare for a few months now, but he’d never met you officially.

As much as Mitsuki loved having the little one over most weekdays, she didn’t have all the time in the world to spend babysitting. Eijirou encouraged Katsuki to enroll Chiyo and had recommended the daycare he used for his kids. Despite Katsuki’s hesitation towards it, Eijirou wouldn’t stop pestering the man to give it a chance. Something about ‘socialisation’ or whatever. Still, Katsuki put up a good fight.

“Fuck no, you know how disgusting other people’s kids are?? I don’t want Chiyo catching rabies from those things.”

“It’s expensive, I’m not exactly rich right now you know!”

“How do I know those teachers are qualified?”

“I’m sure Chiyo’s gonna hate it so what’s the bother.”

Unfortunately, Chiyo loved it, waking up early and being pretty self sufficient for a 4 and a half year old. She even packed her bag herself before bed so it was ready the next morning. Yes it was filled with just stuffed animals, and what.

“Baby, do you seriously need all of your friends? Why not pick one?”

“But they’ll be lonely :(“

Katsuki had to write out a whole schedule of which plush goes to daycare on which day. This rotation made sure the toys all got an equal amount of days.

Chiyo had been getting chattier in the recent days. Perhaps shitty hair was right about the socialisation bit… However, at dinner that night, a new name kept coming up.

“-and I was really sad. But then, Smiley came over and made it better!”

“Who’s ’Smiley’, princess?”

“Silly daddy, you see her every day at pickup!”

That was helpful. One out of the army of children he has no time to notice.

“Tell me about Smiley. She nice to you?”

“Mhm! Today she secretly gave me a chocolate from the teacher desk :D”

Alarms went off in Katsuki’s head. Chiyo’s friends with a thief. Chiyo’s gonna turn into a criminal. Chiyo’s gonna get arrested in the future. Chiyo needs to stop being friends with this ‘Smiley’ kid!!

“What??”

“Yeah. She told me not to tell anyone or she’ll get in trouble… But you won’t tell, right daddy l?”

The next day and drop off, Katsuki stomped in, all geared up in his hero suit, with a massive scowl decorating his face. Usually Mitsuki and Masaru drop the sweetheart off in the mornings, and by the end of a long work day, Katsuki doesn’t have time to chat. So other parents and teachers had basically never had a proper conversation with the man. That sure was gonna change.

“Who is this ‘Smiley’ kid??”

The receptionist looked befuddled.

“Oh no.. what did she do?”

“Nunya goddamn business. Point me to ‘er”

A shaken older hand pointed towards a young and surprisingly pretty face across the room. Must be the kids mother.

Katsuki stomped his way over to the woman. Either she shrunk back in fear of the pro hero, or his anger made him grow a few inches.

“Oi! Who do you think you are? Letting your kids behave like that? I swear, don’t give me some shi- stupid excuse!”

“I’m so sorry! Has someone been picking on Chi-Chi?”

“Chi-Chi? Seriously nicknaming a kid that doesn’t belong to you? That’s so fuc- freaking creepy.”

Chiyo yanked at her father’s pant leg a bit.

“Don’t yell at Smiley like that >:(“

Huh. Smiley.. is the teacher. Oh. A normal person would instantly apologise, but Katsuki? Pro hero Dynamight?

“What kind of relationship do you have with my daughter??”

He made you look like a child predator in front of your entire classroom, their parents, and your boss +coworkers..To say he felt bad was an understatement, the look of your terrified and embarrassed face scarring his mind for days.

Then, Chiyo came home balling her eyes out.

“Miss Smiley wasn’t there! She left me!”

Fuck. He knew what he had to do.

+81 XXX XXX XXX: Meet me at the restaurant down the street in 10.

Y/N: What the freak

When he saw you walk in, his jaw dropped. Unfortunately, you were beautiful, like the girls on the covers of magazines. However, your cute and almost squishable face quickly turned to a glare, eyes shooting lasers through his face.

It’s silent for a long time.

“This is the part where you apologise for getting me fired.”

“Right, I’m really sorry.”

…

“Look, I love Chiyo so so much. She’s a good kid and I’m sure you can tell she’s grown an attachment to me. If it’s because you or her mother feels jealous-“

“I’m single, the mother is out of the picture.”

“Oh so you just felt like being a dick?”

“Mind your language, Sensei. Wouldn’t want any kids to develop a fowl tongue.”

“I’m the reason Chiyo doesn’t have some of your key vocabulary. Watch it, Dynamight.”

“Oh I’m so scared😒”

You instantly stood up and grabbed your purse. “If you’re just here to rub salt in the wound, I think we’re done.” Fuck. Katsuki yanked you back down into your seat, eyes begging.

“No, fuck- I can’t stop fucking this up. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Wanna add another f-bomb to that statement?”

“Fuck off.”

“There we go.”

Katsuki groaned to himself, wanting to kill himself right there and then.

“I came here to apologise and fix things, but I’m stupid and can’t fucking communicate!”

“There are other swear words y’know?”

“Take me seriously.”

Your face softened slightly. You seriously thought he might cry in the middle of some random ramen restaurant.

“How do I fix this??”

“Well..”

You didn’t ask for too much really. Shopping spree (clothes, jewellery, cosmetics, skincare, shoes, hair pins, the works), official apology to everyone who was in the room at the time, get job back, and a bunch of tiramisu.

After all that, you were nothing but smiles. Then it clicked. Always smiling. Miss Smiley. Damn, that was a lazy nickname.

“Chiyo was the one who came up with ‘Miss Smiley’.”

It’s the best goddamn nickname anyone has ever made.

“Is there anything else you wanna add to that long ass list of yers???”

“Perchance..”

“Well??”

“A second date?”

— — — — — — — — — — —

This is not my best, I’m sorry 😭😭 hope you enjoyed! And requests are still open. Please, I need inspiration 🙏🙏

[sherbertilluminated]

Last night I was talking with my friends @teefigotem and @calypsopond about the pacing of the musical Les Miserables. I think Les Mis' libretto is one of the best foundations for a musical out there, but the first act has so much more plot and more iconic songs than the second, and I worry that top-heavy structure diminishes the ultimate impact of the uprising in the second act.

Caly and Maddy agreed that the 2012 film adaption had the right idea when it swapped the positions of "Do you Hear the People Sing" and "One day More." Transplanting the former to the beginning of Act 2 maintains the balance of revolutionary fervor (and iconic songs) between the two acts, and a serves as a payoff to the tension at the end of Act 1. While "Upon these Stones/Building the Barricade" begins Act 2 in the current libretto, it's high on exposition and low on enthusiasm. Since "Do You Hear the People Sing" has become an international revolutionary anthem, making it the opening of the uprising, rather than the prelude to it, builds on *ahem* that connection.

Just picture it: the audience returns to their seats, the orchestra hums with tension, and the lights go up on a somber street with a single voice—Enjolras, probably—singing. Students emerge from the set, workers join in, the turntable starts turning and it becomes clear that soon a barricade will be built in the street. The subsequent Marius/Eponine conversation that transitions into "On my Own" would still probably work here. In the span of fifteen minutes, the thesis statement of the revolting students turns into the reveal of the final barricade. It'd be pretty damn rousing, right?

The potential problem with this change is the lacuna it would leave behind. In the current structure of Les Miserables, "Do you Hear the People Sing" is an elaboration on Enjolras' claim that "they will come when we call!" and going directly from that rallying cry to a quiet romantic interlude flattens the rhetorical tension between romantic love and revolution "Red and Black" and makes Mairus seem a little silly (which, to be fair, he is. But Enjolras is not.) Although "Do You Hear the People Sing" is a little too bombastic for Act 1, before the uprising actually begins, there's still got to be some kind of transition. Something needs to foreshadow the violence to come. But what?

I proposed that the best transition would be a reprise of Stars. And that Eponine should get to sing it.

Since the Broadway premiere of the musical Les Miserables in 1987 and especially following the 2012 film adaptation, Eponine's character has been a locus for fandom attention and discourse. Because she's really compelling: despite being the daughter of the selfish, abusive Thenardier, she devotes her life to protecting Marius and ultimately sacrifices it for him. But the closest she ever gets to being understood is by the audience; even Marius, one of two people in the show to be kind to her (the other being Valjean), doesn't really understand the full extent of her devotion to him. And that devotion is powerful, whether as a proxy for audience members' own experiences with unrequited love or a representation of the bourgeousie's reliance on unacknowleged suffering. There's a lot going on with her in the musical. But there's even more to her in the Brick.

Unlike my esteemed Les Mis mutuals I'm definitely not informed enough to do original analysis, but I'm a big fan of the Javert/Eponine wolfdog theory. My introduction to it was with this post by @pilferingapples, although I don't know whether it originated somewhere else. The theory posits that Javert and Eponine, who are both compared to wolfish dogs for their ferocity and devotion to their idiosyncratic systems of morality, are character foils who represent the limited choices offered to people excluded from. I definitely don't know the op who suggested they trade methods of death (if anyone does, please let me know!) but that's also in the Brick. And while the musical adaptation doesn't preserve Hugo's canine/lupine symbolism, it keeps Eponine's one-sided committment to guarding Marius. And it keeps Javert's devotion to the institution of Law.

"Stars" is the hymn of that devotion. It's more sinister than Eponine's love for Marius, but in the grand scheme of things it's just as pathetic. Giving a short reprise of that song to Eponine not only explicates that parallel and gives new life to relatively-unused musical motif, it has the potential to tie together the action of the first act and add a new dimension to subsequent scenes.

Imagine if, instead of beginning "Do You Hear the People Sing" immediately after "Red and Black" or transitioning directly to the Rue Plumet, the scene changes to the outside of the ABC cafe. On the other side of the turntable/wall, Eponine is waiting. And worrying. She knows her father's going to rob a house tonight and that the girl Marius asked her to find lives there*. She can't let her father hurt him. She's smarter than him. She'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, she swears—not to God or the stars, as Javert does, but to herself. The promise is shocking, because the audience heard that melody two songs ago and are just now discovering there is another way to be. There is another vow that can be made.

While she's singing, the ABC society files out the door. Maybe some hand out pamphlets or chat with people on the street. If the production wants to emphasize Eponine and Gavroche secret sibling bond, maybe they interact a little. But no one pays her too much mind. No one ever does.

The last person to emerge is Marius, looking a bit shaken. The timeline of the students' plans has been unexpectedly accelerated, he says. In case it's his last chance—nevermind why, 'Ponine, don't worry about me—he needs to see her once. You've found her, haven't you? Could you show me? Please? For my sake?

Consumed by shame and dread and the sense that he'll probably do something really stupid if she doesn't tag along, she agrees. And the stage begins to turn into the Rue Plumet, where "In my Life" begins. The whole interaction would take maybe two minutes.

There are of course thematic objections to this plan. There's the argument that "Stars" ought to be a unique, distinct song like "Bring Him Home." But those motifs are reused in instrumental form after Javert's and the students' respective deaths, so I don't necessarily think they're scene- or character-specific. There's also the argument that the melody of "Stars" is altogether too rigid for Eponine's character. I think there are a couple moments that would work quite well with the emotion("and if they fall as Lucifer fell," for example) but if you really don't want Javert's and Eponine's motif to cross, the melody of "A Little Fall of Rain" ("and you/I will keep me/you safe") could work for this moment too.

There's also the argument that Eponine already gets "too much" attention in the musical adaptation and doesn't need. But I don't know if that's true either. She interacts with Marius in several short scenes, she's present for "A Heart Full of Love" and "One Day More," she goes on her errand to Valjean, sings "On my Own," goes back to the barricade and dies shortly after. She gets about as much stagetime as Cosette does, and a little less than Marius.

It's true that she stands out as a character, but that's because she's got such interesting writing and is so isolated in the narrative. And while it's important to keep her "on [her] own," for the plot, using shared motifs to emphasize her symbolic similarities with other characters might make her character fit more cohesively into Les Miserables' grander thematic narrative. It could even make "On my Own" that much more powerful if she has a little hope that saving Marius from her father might get him to like her, and subsequently understands that this is not happening. But there's a lot more to her than being Marius' rejected best friend** and this choice has the potential to make that clear onstage.

In conclusion: moving "Do You Hear the People Sing" to the start of Act 2 letting Eponine do a wolfdog reprise of "Stars" between "Red and Black" and "In my Life" would be sick as fuck and maybe resolve some pacing issues in the libretto.

*There is a moment in the show where she realizes that she and Cosette grew up together. I like it in concept but it's a little awkwardly-placed and integrating it into the unnamed Red and Black/In my Life transition song would be great. Overall, her interactions with Marius seem like afterthoughts in between the larger numbers, which isn't fair to either of them.

**And for the record: this not a post pitting her against Cosette! They are both good characters and I wish the best for both of them!

[teddybeartoji]

me and toji me and toji me and tojiiiiiiii...

we started out as neighbors but it took us like three months to even propely meet lmao,, it takes me a while to get used to new places so when i first moved in i just stayed at home like a lot. a lot a lot. i literally only left to go to the grocery store and then to the park down the street and that's it. and toji is a big homebody too, so he didn't go out all that much either, just work and then the bar with a friend every once in a while. we just didn't happen to move at the same time, despite living right next to each other.

after about a month, i found myself a third place and slowly but surely grew more and more comfortable there – the cinema (nobody is surprised). i always liked to go during the day, as early as i could, just to make sure that there wouldn't be too many people. always in the last row, always in the middle seat. this is the mickey way. anyway, after creating a bit of a routine for myself, i felt more free to observe my surrounding some more too. felt more comfortable to start people watching. and that's when i saw him. mostly dressed in darker clothes, hoodies and big jackets. sometimes with a cap on, sometimes without it. it's not like he was always always there at the same time as me but when he was, he always sat in the last row but instead of fighting for the middle seat, he always sat at the very end of the row. obviously i thought he looked very handsome – we had made eye-contact a few times while buying popcorn by accident and let me tell you, that was enough to have my heart racing ok i am very weak. but i'm not bold enough to strike up a conversation like that so stolen glances and shared movie experiences were all we had. we btw have a very similar taste in films so we did end up seeing each other a lot there lmao

aaaanyway i just had a silly little cinema crush but never did anything abt it bc i'm a pussy ok😔😔 (he's literally the same). okay but so, one day i was coming home from whereever, just stepped into the elevator when a hand stopped the doors and HE appeared. i was very confused. he.. looked confused too lmao,, but now........ loookkkk.... no matter how handsome he is..... he's still a stranger, and a man too at that. a man who seems to be where i am multiple times a week and is now suddenly where i live. yes, i freaked the fuck out okay. don't judge me. he didn't press a floor button either yk so i really did start to spiral over the fact that maybe he's stalking me or smth..... and he saw that. he saw me tense up and he isn't stupid – he knows he's a tough big guy and it did seem like he could've been stalking me. so he immediately backed away a bit, trying to make himself smaller bc he obviously didn't want to make me any more uncomfortable. and then he just blurted out with his raspy voice that he lives here. it definitely cracked the tension a bit. he cleared his throat and slowly pointed at the floor buttons, saying that he lives on the same floor (btw i need everybody to know that he has a bit of an accent in my head it's very very important to me he speaks english very well but his accent still shines through and i love it very very much<33333). he even showed me his keys lmao and i did feel way more safe after that buuut we still didn't really introduce each other or anything. i guess the air still felt just a bit weird.. the doors opened and we both walked to out apartments in silence (it wasn't actually awkward or anything though it was just . silence) and then looked at each other with silly faces when we realized we literally live Right next to each other lmao that was funny. i just said that i moved in like two months ago and that was it. we went our seperate ways.

for a day.

bc you have no idea.. how awful i felt abt that elevator thing. oooooooh my god. IT'S NOT HIS FAULT HE'S SO BIG SO IT'S SO MEAN FOR ME TO ASSUME THAT HE'S SOME AXE MURDERED YK well it isn't but i still felt really really bad esp since he tried to immediately make me feel more comfortable and tried to reassure me that he was not, in fact, stalking me lmao but yeah idk it just weighed really heavily on me i couldn't help but keep thinking abt it soooo i ended up baking a batch of brownies the very next day. and i went to his door (still in my hello kitty pyjama pants mind you)(i forgot to change them) aaand then started rambling and STUTTERING BTWW while apologizing and he just stood there like ???? like he didn't even understand why i was apologizing in the first place lmao he felt it was a very understandable for me to have that fear and to think the way i was thinking (he actually felt a bit bad abt the whole thing inside too he just didn't really know how to express it). aaaanyway so he was just there staring at me with like a veeery faint smile bc at a point it got a bit ridiculous bc i really did start just rambling abt the whole thing lmao it was uhhh just a bit embarrassing (the fact that he's hot didn't help either thank you very much). he thought it was cute how i was there trying to apologize for smth that he should've been apologizing for himself lmao he tried to say no to the brownies at first and i shoved them at him so hard they all almost fell.. aaand i think that's exactly where he decided that hm. mickey . yes weird little creature i am intrigued i want to know more yk?

btw we still didn't exchange numbers or anything at that point, that happened later after i came knocking at his door at twelve am bc there was a big spider in my room but i'll talk abt that some other time:33333333 thank you for reading abt the miji lore i love you . and i love him. sooooso much he means the world to me<3333333333333333

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

@skelkankaos replied to your post “Frank it makes me uncomfortable that you can read Anyways what do you think of this image?”

Çhhett... My body yearns for you bret... My uat...

[usalock]

This sort of case would have interested our old friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Yes, indeed.

[ellennieel]

the folk of the air au stardust style where all eldred's dead children hang out in the afterlife eating popcorn and doing bets on the shit that will happen

balekin's death in a nutshell

[cubffections]

so argenxi . . argenxi at it's finest ꒰ᐡ⸝⸝σ̴̶̷̤ . σ̴̶̷̤⸝⸝꒱꜆

[ask-richard-jackdaw]

[Just a general reminder for those who roleplay: make sure you don't dictate other characters' actions and feelings in your asks and replies ☺️ Nobody wants to have their autonomy taken away! If you really want to make your intent known, instead of writing "He hugs her" try "He makes a move to hug her", "He attempts to hug her", "You can see it in his eyes that he wants to hug her", and so on. That way the other character can change the narrative if they are uncomfortable 🫂. But even in that case they are not obligated to reply and you should respect that.

And if you think that nobody is interested in your blog — I guarantee it's not the case! Chances are, not that many people know about your OC/MC/character you play so try to put yourself out there! Engage with people! Send asks, write replies, do reblogs, DM if you have any questions or if it puts your mind at ease before plunging into rp! I know it's hard if you're a shy or reserved person. But nobody else can solve this for you 🫂 ]

[wraithsoutlaws]

the thing about jet is that he looks mean, but only because he practices his scowl in the mirror. when you spend your days working on raffen cars it helps if you look intimidating. he rode a few years in a pretty brutal motorcycle clan and can definitely defend himself if needed, but he prefers to keep his head down and stay out of the way. he’s dakota’s nephew, a huge dumbass, not a very good mechanic despite having his own garage (that he also lives in), and ends up finding one of the rogue delamains (the scared/anxious one) who now inhabits his bike and is his closest confidante/quite possibly his best friend.

[dent-de-leon]

every day I am in Agony over the fact that widomauk is the first kiss of the campaign, Caleb kissed Molly back in the very end, the literal last scene between King and Caleb is them flirting and King is still so utterly enamored with his Magician, and I just wish...there was any mention of those feelings in the wrap up or a q and a or anything. Absolutely begging Taliesin to tell us what Molly/King feels for Caleb--why he chose to make King's last moments on screen him being explicitly attracted to Caleb, and whether we will ever get to see him revisit those feelings one day...

[warlordfelwinter]

is she starting endwalker again? yes

[skydigiblogs]

I Kind of Wanna Talk About the Translation of Digimon Liberator

So change of plans, I'm gonna pause before reading chapter 2 and talk about the translation so far. Full disclosure: I have a BFA in English and a lengthy background in Creative Writing. I only have like, a child's level of conversational Japanese under my belt, meanwhile. But our system is really fascinated with translation theory.

This isn't the first time I've talked about translation theory in Digimon on this blog, either (see this post), so if you're a regular, some of this might be familiar territory.

I'll only be talking about official profiles and chapter 1 for now, because I can't keep the thoughts quiet enough to read chapter 2 lmao.

[REALLY REALLY LONG POST BELOW THE CUT, I'M SERIOUS]

Defining Translation Theory

Before I can talk about the translation of Digimon Liberator, I want to briefly explain the concept of translation theory, as it's something I'm fairly interested in exploring through the Digimon franchise.

Translation theory is, essentially, the drive behind how a text is translated from one language to the next. Kind of self explanatory on the surface, it's complicated by the medium of a text, as well as whether certain elements can be cleanly translated from one language to another.

In this conversation, "original language" will refer to the language a text was in prior to translation. For Digimon, that's Japanese. "Host language" will refer to the language a text was translated into. For what I can read, that's English.

Certain mediums lend themselves well to translator's notes. If you've ever picked up a work in translation, this may be a foreword from the translator in books. Those of you familiar with fan subs will know these as those notes that show up on the top of the screen whenever something needs more context to fully convey (such as a linguistic joke or cultural reference).

I'm going to use an example from Charles Baudelaire's Les Fleur du Mal, my go-to on this topic thanks to how many translations there are and the fact that Les Fleur du Mal is a poetry collection. Specifically, i want you to look at "L'Albatross," (literally "The Albatross" in English). These two sites have a lot of translations (and the first site has the original French text available to read as well).

I'm not going to make you read all of the translations, but I do want them to help you understand the different ways translation theory can affect a text in its host language. Scan through a few and it becomes clear that every translator did something at least a little different. With poetry, this is quick to spot, because how a line reads can drastically change how the poem itself lands with an audience.

Generally, a few questions should come to mind when you're reading a translated work. This list isn't every question you should (or could) ask, of course, but these are some of the ones I think of:

Is this translation intended to be a literal (as close to 1:1) translation?

Additionally, is a literal translation even possible, linguistically?

If not, what form of writing is the translator engaging in?

(For example: if the original work has references to culturally distinct idioms, does the translator literally translate those idioms, or do they look for the closest idiom in the host language that conveys a similar meaning?)

The same can be asked of figurative language. What similes, metaphors, and so on are changed to make more sense in the host language, if at all?

What linguistic bias is on display in translation?

(A good example for understanding this would be the translation theory of Emily Wilson, who was the first woman to translate The Odyssey into English. She noticed a bias in the interpretation of language by her male predecessors in the field. More on that in the many articles she's been interviewed for, but I'll highlight the one she wrote for TIME back in 2017.)

And, perhaps, what is lost in the oral quality of a translation?

(Turning back to Baudelaire for a moment, French sounds different from English, on a fundamental level. Will a translator attempt to preserve the meterical qualities of an original work? Oral qualities refer to anything that can be heard when read aloud. Assonance, consonance, rhyme, slant rhyme, etc.. I think this is the easiest example to ponder over what is lost in translation, because it is fundamentally tied to the language itself.)

Okay, We Can Talk About Digimon Again

So, Digimon Liberator (in both forms) is a work in translation from its original language of Japanese. I think I'm not alone in saying that, regarding the comic's translation, everything looked pretty clean, showing an intent on Bandai's part to make sure the comic was legible to a Western audience.

I didn't notice any weird linguistic artifacts in the comic, and I haven't seen anyone complaining about its translation here on tumblr. I'm not talking about the comic, because I think the translation method applied is extremely effective!

Similarly, there are "lore" articles that explain the mechanics of the fictional universe from an in-universe perspective. They're written like promotional guides for players, and I think the style employed there works quite well. Any stiffness in the writing feels expected, because it's an in-universe article, where formality and a bit of reservation should be used.

What I want to talk about specifically is Chapter 1 of the novel. I just got done reading it (about an hour ago at this point since I've been working on this post so long lmfao).

It's obvious to me that a lot of thought is going into how this series is being translated. Similarly, it's obvious that it's not being machine-translated. My biggest examples for this come from two things I've noticed so far:

[ID: A screenshot of the Digimon Liberator official thumbnail for Winr's profile. Winr is a boy with pentagonal, green-framed glasses over his brown eyes. He has a neutral expression on his face. He wears a short sleeved blue and red hoodie with gold honeycomb patterns over a long sleeved yellow dress shirt. On a lanyard around his neck is a black and gold Digimon v-pet.]

This is Winr. Or, for those of you who can read Katakana, this is "Saikyo." I think it's actually "Saikiyo?" My point stands either way. If it's just "Saikyo," it's literally the superlative for "strongest." If it is "Saikiyo," I'm fairly certain it's still meant to evoke the word.

Why am I certain of that? Well, because his name in the host language is "Winr!" Which is a play on the word... well, "winner!"

I doubt a machine translation would be able to make this kind of wordplay, and it evidences to me that there is thought going on behind this translation and its legibility in its host language.

My other example is...

[ID: A screenshot of text that reads: "Please, I'll buy you some cute accessories next time, so please forgive me, Impmon!" "Ha! No way! I won't forgive you until you reflect on what you did!" "But what if it's like…mad cayuute?" "I don't need no darn cute accessories! And what do you mean by mad cayuute? Just say it's 'really cute'!"]

[ID: A screenshot of Japanese text that reads: 「お願い、こんどかわちいアクセサリー買ってあげるからゆるして、インプモン！」 「やーだーねー！　今日ばっかりはユウキが反省するまでゆるさねーからな！」 「でも“エグい”くらい“かわちい”よ……？」 「カワチイアクセサリーなんていらねンだよ！　っていうかなーにがエグいだ！　なにがカワチイだ！　ちゃんと“スゴく”“可愛い”って言え！」]

Okay. Bear with me on this one. My Japanese isn't good enough to be able to read a literal translation on the whole section here, but I was curious about the "mad cayuute?" line in English. That struck me as a "this is something translated from a joke I might not get otherwise" line, especially with that phonetic drawing out of "cute."

Someone who's more fluent in Japanese might be able to help me out, because Impmon's speaking above my expertise LMAO.

In the third line of dialogue in the Japanese version, Yuuki says this word "かわちい" (phonetically, "kawachii"). I think it's interesting to see that it's even couched by quotation marks. I'm not as familiar with Japanese formatting, but it wouldn't surprise me if the use of quotation marks here is to bring attention to the way Yuuki speaks. The same formatting is used with "エグい" (phonetically, "egui") earlier in the line, which does have a literal translation as an adjective (I'm not listing out all the definitions I'm finding because I don't want to get too into the weeds with a language I have very minimal experience with though).

So What Does This Mean?

Like I said, the way the translation is being done suggests to me that there is at least one actual person working on the translation work. I don't know how many people are working on the translation team, as I can't find any credits on the site itself.

That said, I find it refreshing that there is evidence of some thought being put into the translation of the web novel. Now, I don't know what the deal was with Seekers, because I genuinely could not get myself interested in it. As much as I would love to do some comparative analysis of the translation in Liberators versus the translation in Seekers, you cannot convince me to read Seekers. I just don't have the patience.

Now, why do I bring this up?

Well, while I can't compare Liberators to Seekers, I do know some people had issues with the way Seekers was written. I think, reading Liberators, I want to talk about my criticisms with, strictly, the formatting and prose in the host language.

As we saw in the second example above, Japanese and English prose are formatted very differently. Those of you who also read through the Liberator chapters may have noticed that a lot of the dialogue is paragraphed in a way that groups them together. This is my first issue with the translation so far. I don't think Bandai will change the format (and I admit, it's helpful for doing comparative analysis like I did above), but separating out dialogue in English is important for legibility.

So too are dialogue tags, which aren't present in the original language in the same section I highlighted. In the section I used as an example, this isn't an issue, as both Yuuki and Impmon use each other's names in dialogue, marking the back and forth for the reader. But there was an example in chapter 1 that I needed to go back and reread after the paragraph.

(From Chapter 1.2)

[ID: Screenshot of text that reads:

"Anyway, it’s been bothering me. We could chalk it up to a bug, but there's something fishy about the new ability item and cards." “Ah, I agree. It’s kinda bothering me, too. Maybe we should consult Altea next time?" "Eh, I don't really like that Altea."

　The Altea that Yuuki mentioned is a member of the debugging team who supports them behind the scenes. Typically, she works alongside the Digimon Espimon to assist the GMs. Undoubtedly, Altea is the most knowledgeable about the system within their team and a reliable figure indeed.]

I'm not going to dig for the quote in Japanese, if only because I want to focus on the English translation here. If it's a matter of character voice, there's some argument that maybe the translation could have done something to differentiate Yuuki and Impmon here. However, while it would be an additive change, I think that the inclusion of dialogue tags would be the least intrusive means of preventing the kind of confusion I experienced with this section.

Anyone familiar with English prose will know that it's common in the beginning of a dialogue section to denote who's speaking within the first line or two of dialogue, especially with dialogue that does not communicate character on its own. Since it's just two people talking, you only need to show who one of the speakers is.

Ultimately, this is kind of an editing nitpick, and I'm really only bringing it up because I noticed it as an artifact of translation, rather than a sign of bad writing. Honestly, I'd love to learn more about formatting in Japanese novel writing, but that's a deep dive I'm not ready to embark on for a silly little tumblr post I'm writing about my initial thoughts about translation quality in Digimon Liberator. I do want to encourage everyone reading to consider translation theory when they're reading Liberator though, because it plays into the limitations of the medium.

The bigger issues I had with the translation are twofold: tense and syntax.

Tense is going to be easier to discuss here. The easiest way to explain it is thus: tense denotes temporality. "I ate a bagel" means that there is no longer a bagel in my bread box; "I am eating a bagel" means there's not a bagel in my bread box, it's in my hand; "I will eat a bagel" means there's a bagel in my bread box, not in my hand. Really simple explanation, but I want to give the explanation up front so we can look at Liberator's prose.

Let's look at Impmon's introduction.

"Impmon sighed deeply without turning its small, deep purple body toward her. A level 3 Evil Digimon, Impmon is characterized by its two long, clown-like horns, red gloves, and scarf." (1.1)

Notice how between sentences, we shift from "Impmon sighed," to "Impmon is." If the tense was consistent here, it might look like this (editing by me):

"Impmon sighs deeply without turning its small, deep purple body toward her. A level 3 Evil Digimon, Impmon is characterized by its two long, clown-like horns, red gloves, and scarf."

or

"Impmon sighed deeply without turning its small, deep purple body toward her. A level 3 Evil Digimon, Impmon was characterized by its two long, clown-like horns, red gloves, and scarf."

Tense in a piece generally needs to stay consistent, in the English language. A novel may bend this rule sometimes, but those tend to be in cases where it serves a narrative purpose. Flashbacks are an easy example of using tense to your advantage. Tense denotes time, and determines the forms of words used in a piece. Tense shifting can also be used in other creative applications, but the use in Liberator seems less a creative choice and more, well...

See the next section.

I also want to talk about syntax in the Liberator webnovel. Syntax refers to the way sentences are structured. It's a very broad subject, and the English language allows for some very diverse sentence structures.

I'll use the last example for illustration here, so that you can see what syntax can do to your experience of a piece:

"Impmon sighed deeply without turning its small, deep purple body toward her. A level 3 Evil Digimon, Impmon is characterized by its two long, clown-like horns, red gloves, and scarf." (1.1, original)

"Without turning its small, deep purple body toward her, Impmon sighed deeply. Two long, clown-like horns, red gloves, and scarf characterized the level 3 Evil Digimon, Impmon." (different syntax)

This is an exaggerated edit, but I want to get across how flexible English sentence structures are. Japanese, however, is a highly structured language by comparison, and if you aren't familiar with the syntax of Japanese, it might make you trip a little bit. When translating to English, the order of Japanese sentences is generally Subject-Object-Verb, as opposed to Subject-Verb-Object.

So in Japanese, the sentence "I / eat / a bagel" would be structured "I / a bagel / eat." "I" being the subject (what's doing the action), "a bagel" being the object (the thing being subjected to the action), and "eat" being the verb (the action being done).

(Technically Japanese doesn't have the same kind of particles as English but like. I don't have the technical knowledge of Japanese linguistics to go into it. The structure of Japanese is incredibly cool though, especially from the perspective of someone speaking a language that is a chaotic whirlwind of rules and exceptions.)

I bring this up because, when translating from Japanese to English, this means you have to restructure the sentence you are reading in order to fit general English syntax. That's work! And as we've been trying to illustrate, someone is definitely doing the translation work for Digimon Liberator!

However, one of the pitfalls of literal translations (which Liberator appears to primarily be, regarding its translation theory) is that you sometimes end up with a very dry text in the host language. Let's look at the very next line after Impmon's introduction, for an example.

"Having been with Yuuki since the beta-testing days, Impmon has been communicating with her like this for over half a year. There is no longer any reserve between them, and they're close to inseparable." (1.1)

Compared to later in chapter 1:

"There was no defending such recklessness. What had she been thinking, launching into battle without doing the necessary groundwork? It was her fault. There was no doubt about it." (1.1)

Okay. These two paragraphs have a very different rhythm to them. Do you see it? Diversity in syntax is crucial to momentum in a text, as it acts like grease on the wheels for a reader. The first of these two examples is comprised of two long, "rambly" sentences (for lack of a better word). The second example, in my opinion, shows a better use of syntax (though improvements could be made). It's broken into varied sentence lengths to help maintain movement.

If you want another example, let's circle back to Baudelaire for a second (you remember him from the beginning of this essay?). Poetry is heavily tied to its structure, like we discussed. That structure, like in the Liberator webnovel, is key to the movement of a piece.

I'm unsure to what length the syntax in the webnovel can be attributed to the translator, but distracting, stale syntax can be difficult for some readers to maintain interest in. I'm pushing along because I really like Impmon (and the new line looks sick as hell), but a less-invested reader may find Liberator difficult to follow because of these flaws.

Compared to the comic, which benefits from its visual storytelling (which serves as momentum on its own), the novel has only its prose to fall back on when maintaining readership.

TL;DR Digimon Liberator Needs an English Editor

Hire me Bandai /j

Joking aside, Digimon Liberator's webnovel, in its English translation, reminds me of the kind of shaky prose that a newer writer might produce. As I said in the last section, I'm not sure what role overhead has in maintaining the structure of the translation.

However, I think Digimon Liberator could benefit from an English language editor. Between oddities regarding dialogue tags, tense, and syntax, some readers may not have the patience to sit through this one otherwise. I find that a shame, too, considering the evidence someone is working hard on this translation!

It's not awful. Please don't take this big long essay to mean that's what I'm saying. But I have a BFA in English, like I said at the start, so I'm pretty good at sniffing out the kinds of writing pitfalls that make retaining readership difficult. Hell, it's the same instinct I use when I'm trying to determine what to read (whether that be professionally or unprofessionally published).

Writers tend to struggle with self-editing because they're so familiar with their own work. I'm uncertain if Bandai has an editing team on call for the Liberator novel, but if not, that needs to change. Putting the work of translation (a form of writing in itself) and editing on one person is too much. And if it's a team of translators, they should make sure at least someone is looking out to edit for English style.