anyways i have to write this super fast so i can delete it from my internet history (i would like to keep my ass unbeaten tyvm), but the reason ive been hella inactive is im grounded until im literally 18 :( i showed my parents my work since i was proud of burn baby hitting 30000 hits and 2000 kudos (?????????? wtf thanks????). turns out they liked it and went behind my back to read my other works (which i told them not to read) and they were very displeased with my very homosexual fanfic writing.
writing wise, im totally ready to come back. ive bounced back from my bbb slump and nearly finished it and written SO many other pieces i wanna share. its a big fucking bummer too, because i got to take part in a hella fun big bang just before this, but i cant post anything.
so, to make a long story short, i’m grounded until im 18, which is in july. i have blocks on all my devices so i can’t use ao3 unless i leave the house, which im not really allowed to do either.
hey at least when i come back i can write gay smut :/
You know, I don’t wanna name an actual hero school so let’s just make one up; let’s call it “UA”
So I’ll sign up for “UA” and I’ll show up at the entrance exam and I’ll go, “Can I get enrolled here now, please?”
And they go, “No. You have to fight robots first.”
And I go, “Okaaay!”
And then I shatter most of my limbs.
And then I heal up from that and I go, “Am I enrolled now?”
And they go “Yeah, we put you in but we won’t actually teach you how to stop breaking your bones. Because we hate you and you should do it yourself. Now go get this fake bomb from a guy who hates you before you get any combat training, go fetch!”
And I go, “Okaaay!” and I almost die but I get the bomb and I ask, “Can I have a normal day please?” and they go “NO!”
And I go, “Okaaay!”
And they go, “You"re a liability.”
And I go, “Nooo,” and they go, “SAY IT!” and I go, “I’m a liability but I’ll still be a hero.“
And then I go over to the UA Help Desk, which is an oxymoron, and I go, “Can I please get a normal day here please?” and they go “No! In fact, we’re gonna take you on a field trip and get attacked by villains and watch all your friends and teachers almost die!”
And I go, “Why are you doing this to me?!”
And they go, “Because we’re UA High School, and life is a fucking nightmare!”
i have twitter now >:D i want to be able to interact more w/ other writers and yall and also share stuff i won’t post on here/ao3 as threads! my user is e1ana_ if you wanna come say hi :)
anyways below is some momojirou i put there recently because i felt weird just advertising my twitter and leaving hehe
“Momo,” Jirou says, one hand cradling her massive stomach and the other loosely holding a few umaibo. “You said you were coming to bed in a few minutes.”
Momo sighs and tucks her pen behind her ear. Work had been crazy today, which meant more reports. Nobody had told her the boring downside of being in the top ten. “Yes, love, I’ll only be a minute. I just have to finish up the paperwork.”
“Said that twenty minutes ago.” Jirou mumbles and waddles her way back into the bedroom, the crinkling of another umaibo pack trailing behind her.
Jirou had been the one to vote for her being the one to get pregnant. Momo had just broken into the top ten, and her need for an unnaturally high BMI and rapid food consumption might affect the pregnancy. But the consequences of the journey had certainly taken its toll on both women. From rapid mood swings to extended morning sickness, it seemed like these kids really had it out for them.
Still. Neither thinks they would give it up if they could.
Momo goes back to detailing her patrol, TV humming away in the distance. Taking on a four on one battle in a cramped alley had been exciting, no lie, but coming home to a stack of papers and a cranky wife wasn’t exactly the warm welcome that Momo would’ve liked. Stop that, she chastises herself. She’s ready to pop, and you’ve been away from home for nearly half the day. Of course, she won’t be greeting you at the doorway. The hero sighs and places her writing utensil on her desk. She can deal with this tomorrow - for now, she has a cranky partner to soothe.
She tucks the papers back into their clip and turns on the kettle. A cup of tea before bed had been routine for the past few years and it hadn’t changed with time. That was another thing - going from having one tea guzzler in the house to two had put a massive dent in Momo’s supply. Kyoka claimed that the babies like it and that it's probably good for me - all unbacked statements, but convincing nonetheless. If tea was what Kyoka wanted, it’s what she would get. Momo steeps the extra cup with care, adding the perfect amount of sugar and making sure no extra leaves are floating around.
Momo knocks on the door before pushing it gently open. Kyoka is splayed out on the bed, head propped up on a pillow to look at the TV from over her belly. She peeks over and makes room for Momo upon her entrance. One cup of tea is placed on the table next to her and the other clinks when Momo slides into bed. “I thought you finished Followers already.”
Jirou sips her tea before turning around to face her wife. “I wanted to rewatch it. You were taking so long I nearly got a quarter way through.”
Momo wraps her arms around Jirou and the pregnant woman worms her way into a more comfortable position. “Sorry, my love. You know how long papers can go on.”
Jirou snuggles closer and unwraps another umaibo and bites half of it off. She’s at the part of the show where a famous photographer meets an aspiring actress. She closes her eyes and leans her head against Momo’s chest. Her face is barely above the covers, thick blanket tickling at her bottom lip. Momo’s hand wanders to her stomach, rubbing the taut skin and warming it beneath her palm. Jirou hums and places her hand on top.
There’s a flutter beneath her skin and Jirou hisses. Someone is deciding to be a little gymnast, it seems. Momo sighs and moves her hand, her aimless rubbing turning into a one-handed massage. “I love getting to feel them move. It’ll be any day now, I swear. How’ve they been treating you?”
“Like hell. One of them - I can’t tell who, but I think it might be Hisami - has been literally jumping on my bladder and doing flips for the past few hours. Little bugger.” She reaches up and cradles Momo’s face in her palm, opening her eyes to meet black. “I can’t believe I’m only a week overdue. It feels like a month, at least.” As if on cue, one of the babies kicks and nails Jirou so hard she swears she feels her rib crack. Momo coos and rubs the sore spot, letting her wife mumble irritated curses into her skin.
“They’ll be out soon. All that waiting, all the struggles, and we’ll get to see their pretty little faces.” She pecks Jirou on the cheek and turns her head into the pillow. She clicks off the TV and helps Jirou settle into her body-sized pillow. “I love you, Kyoka.”
“I love you too. Goodnight.”
***
It happens, ironically, in the middle of a bi-monthly class 1-A reunion. Jirou’s in the middle of a conversation with Kaminari and Mina, the pink girl yammering on about some insane romantic escapade. After graduating from UA, she may as well have been a professional serial romantic alongside being a hero.
She’d thought that Mina had gesticulated into her cup and spilled water down her leg, but upon further notice (and further sitting in it), the liquid was coming from inside her dress. Kyoka’s breath catches in her throat at a harsh cramp and latches onto Mina’s arm.
“I hate to interrupt your story, Mina, but I think my water just broke.”
Her friend pauses, yellow eyes blinking slowly and processing information. Kaminari, the fucking idiot, takes the information through one ear and out the other. He’s off like a bullet train, wailing about “not being ready to be an uncle.”
“Man, right in the middle of my sentence!” Mina leads her over to sit down at a table. Oh shit, this is really happening. A few minutes give way to another clench in Jirou’s abdomen, solidifying the reality of the moment. She presses both hands to her stomach and breathes in deeply. Oh boy - well, girls. In a matter of hours, she’d likely be holding her children in her arms.
Another contraction hits, sharper and more insistent than the last time. “Momo,” she manages between breaths. “Where’s Momo?”
“Right here.” She slides next to Kyoka, ponytail swinging behind her. “Sorry, I was in the restroom for the big moment. Kaminari’s been very diligent in catching me up, though.” The man in question is heaving his ass off, sweat running down his brow and darkening the pits of his sleeve. He flashes Jirou a thumbs up before going back to his impressive wheezing.
Momo rubs her hand as they sit for the next half hour or so. The contractions aren’t even close to ten minutes apart, so there’s no rush in gathering the bag and designating a driver. Jirou almost wishes there was - though they are far apart, the contractions hurt pretty badly and make her gasp in discomfort. Being the only person not in some stage of panic, Todoroki offers to drive. Kaminari and Midoriya both head back to their house to get the hospital bag. All the while Jirou grips away at her wife’s hand and breathes in the direction of Mina and Shinsou.
“All right. We can go.” Todoroki whirls back around, swiftly walking back to the car with both Momo’s purse and Jirou’s handbag.
Jirou is shaky as she stands, nails digging into both Momo and Mina’s skin. Neither makes any indication that they’re in pain other than a slight hiss that goes unnoticed. They walk to the car, Jirou wobbling half from the pain and half from her massive stomach. In all honesty, she couldn’t wait to be able to jog for more than three steps or touch her toes again. Even the short distance from the door of the building to the door of the car was practically making her work up a sweat.
She clips the seatbelt herself, shooing away the other people to have a moment of blessed silence in the completely closed car. That peace is dispelled when another wave of pain has her damn near doubling over. “Fuuuuck,” she hisses at nobody in particular. “Fuck.” She says again directed at her belly. A heel rams into her guts like one of the cheeky little ladies had heard her swear at them. “Fuck you. You two better get out fast, I'm already over this.”
Then the car doors are opening and far too many people are piling in. Todoroki takes the driver's seat, Mina the passenger, and Momo the backseat beside Jirou. Momo presses a slow kiss to her forehead and one to her stomach, rubbing her belly in an attempt at consolation. “Soon we’ll get to meet our daughters, Kyoka. You’re so strong. Going to give us two healthy little girls.”
Jirou nods and clenches her teeth tighter. A few more hours of what already felt like hell, but the payoff would be so worth it. She closes her eyes and leans her head back, open window sending hair flying into her sweaty face. She focuses on her pulse, and her breaths, and the grip of Momo’s hand in her own.
The news of the oncoming hero child is leaked fast and at the hands of a bewildered teenager driving by who happened to get a glimpse through the window. Thankfully the group manages to get to the hospital with only a little traffic trouble, meeting up with Kaminari and Midoriya to secure the bag.
Jirou’s gasps and groans escalate in volume, growing into full-on yelps of pain with every contraction as they become more frequent and intense. Momo stays with her the whole time, pushing her hair out of her face and rubbing her arm and whispering words of praise.
God. Kyoka thought she’d known pain, that the contractions were hard, but she hadn’t been mentally prepared for pushing out two entire babies. It had seriously felt like someone was ripping her snatch in half for upwards of six hours.
But, when all is said and done, and the doctor places Hisami and Anzu on her chest it's so worth it. Jirou cries openly when their warbling cries meet her ears and their little bodies squirm to make themselves more comfortable. After a few minutes when Anzu falls asleep (it had to have been Hisami stomping on her bladder), Momo’s quiet tears join hers when she cradles and rocks the black-haired baby.
“Beautiful,” she whispers, switching Anzu into one arm to grab Jirou’s hand with the other. “Look how beautiful they are.”
Hisami tosses and turns, trying desperately to break out of the blanket burrito she’s ensnared in. It had to have been her, stamping all over Jirou’s insides like that. She blinks open her eyes slowly, purple meeting purple as she stares at her mother. Jirou laughs and wipes her face. Yeah, pregnancy was hell. But if this is the payoff - if she gets to hold her two beautiful daughters in her arms with her wife by her side - it all was beyond worth it.
do not click the sponsored ad on tumblr that looks like this.
it brings you to a website where if you click the video, it plays something really disturbing.
tw s*icide, g-ns
tdlr; makes fun of unaliving yourself by comparing it to back pain
video contents under cut
Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here.
We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
before i even start talking about this: stop pestering your faves to join! if they wanna they will, if they don’t they wont. i am literally in the discord and i have a whopping total of 24 followers on here, but i’ve already been asked 3 times. i can’t imagine how annoying it must be for someone with a large following.
that being said, take this trippy little thing.
(also for reference, this is what vocal fry sounds like. it starts at :52, so like that but a little less musical).
