#I know I promised Art but life has been busy

[rupturedtaleblog]

Hi everyone, Tile here, under more ideal circumstances, you would have gotten everything I wanted to do for the anniversary all at once, but due to my personal life becoming far more busy than I'd like, the content for this year is going to be spread out over the rest of the month.

The following is mostly going to be a few thoughts of mine, over the history of this project, and about a few personal anecdotes. If you don't care about that, feel free to just look at the art up there, it was made by VeggieUTDR.

I would like to start things off by thanking those of you who have decided to still follow this project. What started out as a stupid joke made to spite someone had transformed into a project that is incredibly personal to me. One that I, come hell or high water, will see through it to its completion, one way or another.

8 years feels like an incredible amount of time. A lot of things happened to me, and some things stayed relatively the same. It's part of why I've decided to never really cancel this. By the time Rupturedtale started, it was during the boom of Undertale AU Sprite Comics, it was a project among many of those, and one that would surely fade just like a good chunk of them.

That never really happened, though, as I'm currently talking to you. As corny as this may sound, there is a part of me inside of this thing. And it's a part of me I cannot bring myself to hurt. This whole story is about hurt, really, it'd be cruel to put it out of its misery when it can become something truly beautiful.

If you're wondering why it's taken so long, besides my life in general being busy, it's because I've spent a lot of time developing some personal projects with some good friends of mine. Ones that for the time being aren't really meant for the public eye. Creating those memories is important to me, and they will also shape how some of the things in this project are going to be.

You might get to catch a glimpse at one of them.

There isn't anything of major substance that I can show right now, the Date itself has things that will be better off being shown in their proper context. And its overall script needs to undergo revision before it can be put into game form. In the event of complete and utter catastrophic failure, you can expect it to come out in comic form instead.

In general, for the projects that are made by my hand (and the very lovely people who help said hand), I will be publishing a roadmap of what to expect in the future. There are a lot of things that I want to do, and I'm very eager to show them to you. I just need to get to them first.

Again, I'm incredibly grateful for your patience, there's not a lot of you out there, I'm aware, but for the ones that still are, I promise you're gonna get what you've been looking for.

If there is anything I've learned the past few years, is that my love for this game will never truly die, I will be thinking about it for the rest of my life.

Though, that doesn't mean I will only create under its own shadow.

You can't just play with the same toy over and over again, you know.

You'd want something new.

Eventually.

[kingtrash-fox]

Not the MRD art thing BUT it involves FNF MRD and Madness Combat so I will count it halfway from the other post

ok so recently I’ve been listening to a lyrical cover of Sacrifice this one specifically:

And I’ve been looping and I am here to bring y’all a cool ass concept. At least to me.

Say instead of the MadRat and Heart Dying at the end of the day after beating Rat God, for some reason they get teleported to Nevada (They save Jack and the Girl before hand I’m not a monster) and through some nonsense involving the Improbability drive or something and get extended lifespans by like 10 years or something along with becoming Bigger (MR 2 1/2 feet Heart the Cat 3 1/2), although they learn that the Auditor is gonna nuke Nevada within 72 hours and they gotta escape fast and apparently Rat “God” somehow has manifested in the real world with real Godly Powers via another Improbability Drive or something. Fast forward to the Final day and they found a Cargo Van on its way out of that hell zone but as they escape Tricky comes flying in with Rat God ready to run their shit. Cue Sacrifice.Flp. It’s just mainly MRD gameplay with a demonic clown and an awakened god.

Now here’s where the lyrics come in: Mad Rat and Heart take the Role of Deimos with Mad rat singing and Fighting and Heart providing music, while Rat God and Tricky take the role of Bf Gf and Pico. The first half has Tricky in his normal form but after a bit of time he switches to his Expurgation form with Rat God summoning Hallucinations and other things. Now in Sacrifice.Flp there’s an Animation Deimos does along with the Audio “Come on! DO IT!”.

Now imagine: The fight is getting intense and hope is seeming lost until mad rat says COME ON DO IT! And:

(Minus throwing it in a cage, Kris was the example I needed)

RIPS HIS OWN DAMN HEART OUT! so he just has his own Heart outside of him (not Heart he’s watching is surprise and slight awe and a bit of terror) and is seemingly fighting harder than ever with his heart comnected to him still via blood vessels Floating like Heart once did. Then time stops but instead of going backwards it fast forwards time to where the nuke is gonna land in 5 minutes. Finishing off the insane duo Heart and Mad Rat make their grand escape leaving Rat God and Tricky stuck in Nevada as a Giant Nuke goes off. Heart and MR cuddle together ignoring the explosion behind them cause cool guys don’t look at explosions.

[artdcnaldson]

ugh "leverage" to ensure she won't go tattling to patrick. especially as he starts getting meaner and meaner, he tells her it's to make sure she doesn't back out and tell on him. because patrick would genuinely kill art if he knew what he's been doing to his baby sister.

i know it doesn't really fit in the canon of the other parts to this au, but hear me out anyway... what if he agreed to fuck her, properly this time, in her sweet little pussy. BUT he needs said leverage to make sure she keeps quiet about it (truly he just needs to immortalize taking her virginity so he can watch it back for the rest of his life). so he "agrees", he's the one to bring it up lol, on the condition that he can record it. y'know like really shitty, amateur, pov style, on her creaky dorm bed and pink, frilly sheets. shaky and grainy, but it's good enough for him. it's not like he would ever actually post it anywhere or show people, but she doesn't know that.

he gets off on how nervous she is when he points the camera at her, she's blushing and trying to hide her face. but he just slaps her cheek and manhandles her to look right down the lens of his shitty phone camera. tells her to moan louder around his big cock, tell the camera how good he feels, really just stroking his own ego. makes her tell the camera exactly how he's making her feel, can't cum unless she asks into the camera. he nearly cums right inside her when she tells him he's too big and it hurts :(((((

yummy yummy yummy

-🐞

OHHHHHHH <3 I had to let this simmer. This had to ruminate. Had to really let it sit and grow legs or whatever wine people say idk

RATING: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, degradation, making a sex tape, loss of virginity, world’s worst aftercare), mean!art as always, uncomfortable power dynamics, DUBCON due to coercion

He catches you leaving one of your classes, chatting happily with a few girls as you walk. Their eyes widen as he approaches, smacking his gum, looming tall over them. You murmur a quick apology and bound over like an obedient little pet, falling into stride beside him as he walks.

“What class is that?” He asks, nodding back towards the building. Most of the time he forgot you even attended the school beyond cheering at his games and floating around his dormitory like a ghost.

“Peoples and cultures,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s an anthropology course I’m taking. It’s actually really interesting, like, these past few lectures have been—“

“What are you doing tonight?” He interrupts, not really caring beyond the simple answer to his question. He has a one track mind, and for the moment he’s just thinking about getting in your pants.

He watches you think, then shrug. “Um… nothing, I guess? Why?”

Art stops by a tree suddenly, tugs you by your wrist to stop with him. “Do you promise if we fuck you won’t tell Patrick?” He watches as your eyes widen, as sheer need and excitement makes you practically vibrate out of your skin.

Frantically you nod. “I’d never tell Patrick, I’d take it to my grave, I swear,” you say, totally earnest, bouncing on the balls of your feet as he looks at you.

“God, I want you so bad,” he hums, brushing your hair back behind your ear. You melt beneath his touch, gaze all half-lidded and soft. “I just… I think I’d have to have some leverage, just to make sure no one ever finds out.”

You tilt your face, resting it on his hand, your eyes half-lidded and dazed with need. You hum a soft, “Mhmm,” without even knowing what he’s implying, what he’s asking of you. But he hears what you’re thinking, all dumbed down and needy— yes, Art, whatever you say Art, anything you want, Art.

He wants to do it in your room, that night. He walks you back to your dorm and tells you to get your roommate out, make sure she’s busy for however long you need. He’d text you when he’s on his way.

So you’re just… fucking vibrating with excitement, cleaning up your dorm, changing your sheets, fluffing your pillows. You light three warm vanilla sugar candles so the dorm smells nice and sweet, put on your roommate’s SEXXXMIXXX <3 CD that she had burned in High School (and kept your fingers crossed it was still relevant). You took the longest fucking shower of all time, scrubbed your skin until it stung, shaved you’re entire body, wondered if maybe he wouldn’t like bald pussy, then worried that he’d hate if you kept the hair even more. Moisturized, then put on pretty, light makeup— lipgloss, mascara. All in the span of time it took for him to text you.

Art :) <3

omw

You feel a little dizzy by the time he’s at your door, already wet just anticipating what you were about to do. He grins down at you, at your silky little pajama set, pink and lacy around the edges. Smacks his gum, trails his hand along the sides of your waist.

“Pretty.” He looks smug as he rubs the lace between his fingers. “You got all dressed up for me, huh?”

It’s amazing how timid and shy you can look as you stand in front of him, biting onto your lip as you nod. He shuts the door behind him and guides you backwards until you knock against your bed and laugh nervously. Jesus, he’d already fucked your ass, your throat, he’d done things to you that even the dirtiest fucking sluts on campus wouldn’t dream of allowing. But you’re all shy because he’s finally going to fuck you properly?

You gasp as he tugs down the neckline of your top, exposing your tits to the cool air of the dorm. So cute, soft. Your nipples already hard and sensitive, so just the lightest pinch makes you let out a pretty moan.

“Remember what I said about leverage?” Art says, and you nod slowly, dreamily. “I want to film it.”

Your eyes widen slightly, as you think back to the pictures he’d taken of you just a few weeks prior. “And you’d… what? Like post it if Pat finds out?”

“No, no, only if you tell,” he corrects. Even then… he doubted he’d actually ever post it anywhere. He had a tennis career to consider, after all. But the important thing was that you believe he will. “It’s just to make sure this stays our secret.”

You swallow, consider it. You didn’t plan on telling Patrick, so it was fine, right? He’d hate Art, and you didn’t want that. You would never want that, no matter what.

So you nod softly. “Okay,” you say finally. “I’d… yeah, I understand. Okay.”

God, you’re easy. So fucking easy it makes him a little sick to think about. What if he wasn’t Patrick’s friend, if he was some frat house asshole who would take advantage of how bad you wanted him? You’re so lucky he’s a good person.

He uses your own fucking digital camera— pink and decorated with little heart stickers. Turns it on and records you as you slip off your sweet silky pajamas, revealing soft, smooth skin beneath. You’re so shaky, so nervous. You can’t even look into the lens.

“No panties?” He asks, lips quirked into a grin. He steps forward to slip his hand between your thighs, to cup your pussy in one big hand. God, you’re so fucking wet, just like you usually are. He could just slide right in without any resistance, just bury himself right inside that tight little pussy. “Jesus, you’re a fucking mess, just dripping for it, aren’t you?”

You moan, relishing in the feeling of his hands on you. Art never touched you, not to get you off, at least. So the feeling of his thick calloused fingers against your cunt makes you whine. He breaches your entrance with just a fingertip and grins at the feeling of you clenching around the intrusion, desperate for anything he’ll give you.

But the relief is gone as soon as you’ve gotten it. He pats your thigh, nods to the bed. “Go lay down. Let me film you stretching yourself out for me.”

“Art,” you whine once you’ve laid down, embarrassed as he trains the lens on you. “Do you have to film this part?”

It just makes him double down, grinning smugly as he settles at the foot of the bed. “C’mon, just fucking do it. Show the camera how fucking wet you get for me.” You hear the whir of him zooming in as your hand slips between your thighs, as lithe fingers slide through your soaking wet folds and you tease your clit. He groans softly, grinning at the sight on the camera. “Alright, spread yourself out now. Show me how small and tight you are.”

You whimper pathetically, but obey. Your fingers form a V as you spread your lips, revealing the pretty, drippy hole of your cunt. He doesn’t even have to tell you to start fucking yourself, you just do. Pretty, manicured fingers disappearing inside the tight channel of your pussy, slow and easy as you pant and gasp sweetly.

“Can you do three?” He asks. He zooms the camera out, makes sure he gets all of you— your tits heaving with each breath, the slow grind of your hips to meet your fingers. You nod softly, press a third finger alongside the other two. He grins at the sight of the stretch of your cunt around them, how your body works to accommodate them. “God, it’s a tight stretch, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You moan as you pump your fingers slow, in and out. Wet to the point of it sounding obscene. Slick dripping out with each thrust, making your fingers glisten.

He can hardly take sitting there and watching, but god, he’d love it later on when he was alone with only the video to keep him company. But who knows? Maybe he’d fuck you once and never want anyone else. He already felt that way… kind of. You were so eager, so obsessed with him. You touched him like it was an act of worship. He couldn’t get that from easy pussy.

He sets the camera down on the foot of the bed while he undresses, tugging off his sweats and tee shirt, mussing up his hair in the process. It’s not lost on him, the way your fingers speed up at the sight of his cock, how needy and desperate you are.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks as he picks up the camera.

God, he’s mean. You whine when he grabs your wrist and makes you slip your fingers from inside of your cunt. Empty, needy, desperate. “Please, fuck me, Art.” You’re embarrassed, of course you are. He has a camera focused on your needy little expression, one hand on your thigh all warm and possessive. “Please, I’ve been so good for you. I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I just need you, I need you inside of me. Want you to be my first. Please, Art.”

He’s not sure where he wants the camera as he notches the head of his cock at your wet little hole. Part of him wants to film the second he buries his cock inside of that tight fucking cunt, but the other wants to film your face, watch how pretty you look as you take your very first cock.

And god, you’re trembling beneath him. Visibly shaking with anticipation, or nerves, or need. He runs a hand along your torso, cups one of your tits in his hands and thumbs over your sensitive nipple. “What, are you cold?” He teases.

“N-no,” you stammer, meeting his gaze. “Just— I just want it so bad.”

He films your face, which was the right call, he decides. He has to think about it technically, or he’ll risk blowing his load one pump in, like a total fucking loser. You’re so tight around him, clamping down on his cock as he sheaths himself within you, inch after inch. And god, that angelic face of yours— mouth agape, wet and pink and pretty, the tiniest furrow between your brows, lashes splayed against your cheeks as you moan, soft and sweet. “Hurts,” you practically whimper. “God, Art, fuck, it feels—“

He films where your cunt swallows him, stretched to the point of obscenity around his thick cock. It shouldn’t even be able to take him, not when you’re so small, so fucking tight. It’s a fucking miracle you’d even taken a toy before. He’d make you film that next. All desperate, fucking yourself on silicon while you drooled over a picture of him. It was sweet that you’d been trying to prepare yourself to take him and you were still a shaking, needy mess.

Tears well in your eyes as he thumbs at your swollen little clit, he feels your pussy clench around him, already so fucking keyed up. He should be good. He should make love to you, nice and slow, like a good boy. He’s starting to think he’s not a good boy, not at all. “Just lay there and take it, yeah? Just look nice and pretty for the camera.”

You cry out when he pulls back only to drive back in, hard and deep. His pace is relentless as he fucks into your cunt— warm and wet and tight and fucking perfect. He honestly shouldn’t have waited, he should’ve fucked you the first night you offered yourself up to him— sweet and needy and clinging off his shoulder like you were his girlfriend.

“A-Art, fuck—“ You cry out, fisting your pretty hands into the frilly duvet, as he bullies himself into you. “Oh, god, fuck, A-Art, it’s too much— I-I can’t—“ A strangled moan seems to rip itself from your throat as your head falls back against the pillows.

He grins. “Yeah? Don’t tell me, honey, tell the camera.”

You whine, turning your head away as embarrassment rips through you. It’s mean, keeping it trained on you while you’re so fucking vulnerable. He grabs your chin, holds it in place as he fucks into you, deeper, rougher. It punches out gasps from your pretty open mouth— Ah! Ah! Ah! Over and over and over.

He pops your cheek, not too hard, but enough to draw your attention back from him and away from your dizzying thoughts. “Tell the camera how good it feels to have my big cock in that little pussy of yours, yeah?

“It feels— ngh— I love it,” you have pretty fat tears slipping down your cheeks as he drills into you. “You’re so big, I— God, fuck— I feel you in my stomach. Here—“ You grab his hand, move it to press against the bottom of your stomach. He can’t feel anything, not except warm skin beneath his, but he groans at your words, at the implication that he’s so deep he’s in your fucking guts.

He has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood. He knows he’s going to cum, knows that he’s not going to last or show off epic, manly stamina and impress you. Not that you give a shit, but he wants to set a standard for whatever fucking loser you fuck next. He’d have next time, and as many other times as he wanted. You’d keep coming back for it, for him.

He struggles to manhandle you the way he needs while holding onto the camera. He tosses it into the sheets so he can press your knees up to your chest. “Hold them— yeah, that’s it, fuck— feels good.” You’re so obedient, holding your legs up for him so he can get deeper. Your eyes roll back, flutter shut. He fumbles to grab the camera, to immortalize you like this.

Your cunt squeezes around him, makes his rhythm falter as he struggles to fend off his orgasm. God, he just wants to bury himself deep and rut into you, to cum deep and hard, leave you dripping with him. It’s about him… but it’s about you too. He’d be good, he’d make you cum.

“Tell me how bad you need to cum. Fucking beg me for it,” He groans, rubbing at your clit with a calloused thumb.

You whine, squeezing around his cock as he draws you closer and closer. “Need it, Art. It feels so good— you’re so fucking perfect, feel so perfect inside of me. Wanna cum for you, around your cock, wanna show you how good you feel. Please, please, god, I want it, I want to feel it, Art. Want you to cum inside of me, need it so bad— I fucking dream about it, about you. You’re so much better, you’re everything I want, Art, fucking claim me. I want you to.”

Art wanted to pull out. He did. He was going to glaze your pussy with his cum, get it on video, swipe his fingers through it and make you taste it. But Jesus Christ, you fucking ruined that idea. He cums suddenly, practically collapses on top of you as he fucks into your cunt, spilling himself deep inside of you. And like the perfect fucking toy you are, you cum too, milking him for all he’s worth, walls clenching down around his cock as he lazily ruts into you.

He pants, stays buried inside of you as he tries to catch his breath. He’d never cum inside someone before— he was too afraid of knocking someone up. He’d always had the self control to pull out, but he lost himself in fucking you, in the tight grip of your pussy around him. Christ, that was bad.

When he pulls out, a thick gush of his cum follows, pearly white, dripping down your ass and to the bed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, you’ve tugged a blanket over yourself shyly. Looking so demure, so sweet, batting your lashes up at him expectantly.

The camera lays dropped and forgotten on the bed, he goes and presses the stop button on the camera and you grab at his arm. “Do you want to stay the night?” You ask with a shy bite of your lip. “I told Izzy to fuck off, so she’s with her girlfriend. We’ve got the dorm for the night, so you can stay.”

Art makes a face akin to annoyance as he redresses, tugging on his boxers and sweats. His shirt is somewhere… he can’t focus. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen, you swallow as heat floods your cheeks. “Yeah, I mean, I know,” you stammer. “I just thought…”

His jaw ticks. “Don’t do that, then. This is just about fucking.

Art watches the sad little nod, the tiniest twitch of your nose as you fight the rush of tears to your eyes. “I know that, Art,” you say sadly, and you’re trembling again. “I just wish you’d stay for a bit. I’m… I feel a lot right now. I’ve never… I’ve never felt this before I just want—“

“What do you want? A hug, a kiss?” He watches you sniffle sadly, nod and mutter a watery, yeah. He sighs, stops searching for his shirt, and pulls you against his chest. You feel so warm, so vulnerable as you shake and cry hot tears against his chest. He frowns, pulls back, and presses his lips to yours, quick and chaste. “I’m not doing this again if you keep acting like this.”

You sniffle and nod. “Okay, I know, I won’t do it again.” He kisses the crown of your head. Grabs a random shirt from the top of your laundry basket, grabs the camera, and heads for the door. You watch him leave with a pouty, wobbly little frown and get up to redress. You find his Stanford Tennis shirt partly beneath your bed and pull it on. It’s big, fits you like a hug, smells so boyish and warm. You lay back down on the bed he just fucked you on and breathe deep, let his smell flood your senses. It feels a little like being wanted.

AURRRRR this was so much longer than I thot <3

Anyways. Love pat’s sister au, feel free to send me any asks you want about these messy bitches <3

🐞 anon i love u

[candy69gurl]

‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎⋅˚୨୧ ‎‏‏BARBIE PLAY ‎‏‏‎⋅˚୨୧ ‎‏‏‎

MDI

Hiromi Higuruma x innocent f!reader

18+, dark, dub/noncon, manipulation, loss of innocence, manipulation, slight incest, praises, dad-daughter bonding , nipple play, face sitting, rough raw sex, blow job, multiple orgasms, infertility, mentions of cheating ART NOT MINE

"I'll be gone for now." Hiromi sighs and stuffs a piece of toast into his mouth while wearing his black suit. "And, I can be late, so please eat dinner without me."

 "Daddy, are you going to work again today?" you ask, looking at him with puppy eyes, hoping he melts. "Leaving me alone with the nanny," you say quietly. 

Hiromi's expression transforms into one of concern when he notices the tone of your voice.

"I am pregnant!!" Your mother hugs Hiromi. 

He frowns at her. 

"You're joking, right?" Hiromi freezes and looks at her, shocked. "No, I am not. Why should I?" your mother replied. 

Hiromi sighs as his jaw clenches. He takes his bag and goes to leave.

"I don't want to discuss this right now. I'll be home late, so eat the dinner yourself." 

He shuts the door and walks towards his office. 

She cheated on him. There is no chance that could be his baby because he is sterile. She is unaware of this, and he does not want to inform her either. He doesn't blame her, he is so preoccupied with his work that he can't devote time to his wife.

*9 months later*

Hiromi glances at the baby girl.

"Doesn't she look like you?" your mother cooes.

"No," Hiromi bluntly says.

"But look at the smile; it's exactly like yours." 

"I do not smile." 

Your mother pushes her lips together and remains silent. 

*timeskips*

Your mother and Hiromi end up having divorce, and Hiromi takes custody of you since your mother cannot pay child support. 

Hiromi, although not your biological father, adores you and provides for all of your needs. Not everything though. Not himself. He is a highly busy man, so he is constantly away from you at work.

But there's something about you that offers him joy. He had never smiled in his life, except for the times when you make him smile. He is now attached to you in both ways, physically and mentally.

"I...Yes, I'm going to work again." Hiromi's tone of voice is rather soft and a bit depressed. He's trying his best to be a good father, but it's always hard to make it work because he is so busy with work all the time. Hiromi seems like he understands that his work schedule might be causing problems in their relationship, and he feels sorry for that.

You get closer to him, noticing his dark circles and pale skin.

"It's Sunday, and... you don't look so well."

Hiromi gives you a fake smile. The pale skin and the dark circles around his eyes are reminders of just how hard he's been working. He looks back up and smiles softly at you. "I know, I know. I'm just a bit... tired. But it's not too bad; don't worry about it."

It's clear to both of you that he hasn't been taking care of himself lately. Hiromi is so focused on work that he's forgotten to eat and sleep properly.

"I want to take care of you, dad. I want you to be here with me. I know how hard you work providing for us," you say, hugging him.

The warmth of your hug makes him close his eyes. Hiromi has been working tirelessly to support both of you, and your words make him realize just how tired and burned out he can be.

Hiromi hugs you tight, pressing his chest tightly against your face to feel your warmth. "I'm sorry... I know... I'll try my best to spend more time with you."

You can feel the strain of his exhaustion as he clings to you, like he's terrified of letting you go.

"I promise..." Hiromi whispers to you before letting out a small sigh of relief. It feels like all of the stress and worry that he has been carrying around lately is lifted off of his shoulders as he nuzzles into your soft vanilla-scented hair. Hiromi seems much lighter and more relaxed now. He realizes you have grown up and crave his presence more than you used to.

"Do you promise to spend the next Sunday with me?"

"I promise." Hiromi's tone is soft but serious as he says these words. He stares at you with his brown eyes, wanting to emphasize just how much your happiness means to him. He knows next Sunday's going to be your birthday, so he has to do something to light up the relationship between you too.

*timeskips*

The next Sunday comes, and Hiromi is up early to make you some breakfast. He is making your favorite pancakes, though his hands are shaking slightly as he does. Hiromi can't stop thinking about everything he wants to do with you today. He hopes that he can finally show you just how much he has been missing you.

You enter the kitchen yawning and stretching, and you are surprised to see Hiromi making your breakfast. Usually you get to see your nanny making you breakfast, but your dad has actually kept the promise.

You run to hug him from behind.

The unexpected hug from behind makes Hiromi flinch in surprise. He smiles softly as his eyes flicker from a look of shock back to one of warmth.

"Good morning, sweetheart..." Hiromi chuckles softly as he turns around and wraps his arms around your small frame.

The sensation of your body pressed against his fills Hiromi with a sense of joy. It's been far too long since he has spent quality time with you, and your presence now means the world to him.

"Dad, do you know what day it is?" You expectantly look at him.

"Yes, of course I do, honey." Hiromi's soft voice is like music to your ears. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes as he speaks.

"It's Sunday." Hiromi smiles at you warmly.

Pressing your lips together, you reply, "You really don't remember."

A fake look of worry crosses Hiromi's face when he notices your expression. He realizes just now that you have been testing him, wondering if he had actually forgotten what today was.

"It's your birthday today. How can I forget?" Hiromi smirks slightly, whispering. "Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Hiromi's voice is warm and soft as he smiles at you.

Hiromi leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead. He is sad to see that you grew up so fast without him much looking after you.

"Let's make this a day to remember, shall we?"

You nod excitedly at his words.

"How do you want to spend today?" He asks you, seeming excited at the prospect of making this day a special one for you.

"I want to spend the whole day with you at home."

Hiromi's expression lights up as he hears this. He would love to spend all day at home with you, just the two of you.

"Ah, that is perfect." Hiromi can't begin to describe how excited he is to spend the day with you.

"Now, let's go sit down and eat breakfast together. I've made some delicious pancakes for you." He says it softly, grabbing your hand to lead you to the table where your breakfast is waiting.

*time skips to night after having dinner*

The two of you have been spending the whole day together, and you can't seem to remember the last time you've had so much fun.

You're currently cuddled up with your dad on the couch, watching a horror movie together. You feel so content in his arms, and the comfort of your father's presence means so much to you.

Hiromi seems to be enjoying this just as much as you. He keeps looking down at you and smiling; his eyes are filled with an overwhelming sense of affection.

You have grown up now with striking feminine features.

"OO~ I love slender men," you squeaked.

As you watch the movie together, your eyes are drawn to the screen where the Slenderman character is stalking its victims.

Hiromi notices your eyes wander away and leans down to rest his head on your shoulder. He leans in close and whispers something in your ear.

"Don't you think he is evil?" He chuckles softly as he pulls back to look down at you.

"But I love slender men. I always had... He is just like you. He wears a black suit and has pale skin, just like you. He is not evil at all. He is cute, just like you."

"Aww..." Hiromi laughs at what you've just said. It's so innocent and endearing, and Hiromi can't help but feel amused.

"I guess I can sort of see that? Though I would never hurt a fly." He says this as he cuddles up to you a little closer, feeling the warmth and softness of your body against his. It makes his heart flutter.

"You know, since you're (your next age) now, I can start treating you like a little adult." Hiromi whispers in your ear. A look of pride lights up his eyes as he stares right at you with a small smile.

"And adults like to celebrate their birthday in a special way; do you remember what people do?"

"Oh, THEY CELEBRATE IN A DIFFERENT WAY?" You feel interested.

"Oh, yes, adults tend to have a bit of an extra special celebration." Hiromi grins widely as he looks down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischievous intentions.

He whispers something in your ear before leaning back and looking down at you with a playful grin.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

You nod excitedly.

"Come here and let me tell you..." Hiromi pats his lap and gestures for you to sit on his lap.

His playful expression is like a kid on Christmas as he looks back up at you.

"I have a surprise for you today." He whispers in your ear. You feel Hiromi squeeze your back slightly trying to pull you close to him.

You sit on his lap and feel him wrap his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Hiromi's playful expression has evolved into something that you don't recognize.

"Good girl," Hiromi whispers as he leans in close and presses his lips against your neck. His voice has taken on a tone of sensuality as he leans into your ear and whispers softly.

"What are you doing?" You giggle, feeling the tickling sensation on your neck.

"Keep being a good girl for me." His words are soft and tender as his breath caresses the soft skin of your neck.

"I want you to stay in this position," he says playfully, "just like this." He puts one arm around your waist while the other gently cups one of your cheeks.

"I love you, my girl. Nothing matters to me more than you." His words are like a hypnotizer, as his voice grows more seductive with each breath.

"I love you too," you reply. You can feel something is strange.

A grin spreads across Hiromi's face at your confession. You feel his teeth brush against your neck once more.

You flinch, and one of your hands runs through his hair, grabbing them.

"Ah..." Your sudden movement surprises Hiromi, but he loves the fact that you are responding so strongly to his touch. Your hands stroking his hair make him smirk faintly; the movement of your hands is so alluring.

Hiromi leans his head down towards yours, his forehead touching yours and his voice grows husky and deeper as he speaks.

"You're being such a good girl right now... So cooperative... and I know exactly what I want to do to you for your birthday."

"What-" You grab something hard underneath you.

Hiromi's eyes flutter almost shut at your touch.

"Hm...?" He seems to be enjoying the physical contact of your hands on that part of his body where you grabbed it.

A cheeky grin spreads across Hiromi's face. He leans back again to look into your eyes.

"It seems like you're the very curious type, and I was waiting for this moment." For a moment, he stares at you, studying your expression.

You look at him, confused.

He lets out a soft chuckle as he starts whispering again.

"Would you like to get a little intimate gift from your father? I wasn't kidding when I said this was going to be a very special birthday, was I?" He whispers softly, his breath hot in your ear.

You accidentally press on that hard object to rest your cheek against his chest and look up at him with innocent eyes.

"Yes, I want that gift. I want to spend more time with you." You reply, almost sounding as if you were begging.

This causes Hiromi's breath to hitch and his eyes to widen with disbelief.

He smiles down at you as he stares into your innocent eyes.

"Oh, you really are my little girl." He whispers softly, his voice filled with a deep sense of admiration and affection.

"If you want an intimate gift from your dad, we will have to go elsewhere." Hiromi's voice has become more sultry and seductive, his eyes never leaving your face. Hiromi seems to like the way you are pressing into him. His expression has grown even more seductive as he gazes into your eyes.

"Where do you want me to go to receive the gift?"

"My bedroom," he whispers softly.

"Oh, you have the gift there?" You ask, laughing sheepishly.

"Yes, my dear, that's where the special gift is." He smiles and reaches up to stroke your face.

He picks you up and takes you to his bedroom.

"You are very strong." You cling to his neck while he carries you. "You can carry me as if I am a baby."

"Well, you're still my little baby." He says softly as he carries you to his bedroom, being careful not to bump into things along the way.

Once inside the bedroom, he sets you down on his bed and gets on top of you, pinning your arms to the bed.

You wait for the gift.

He chuckles softly and looks down into your expecting eyes.

"Just let your hands wander a bit, and you'll find it." He whispers seductively, his breath touching your neck.

"Is it there?" You ask him, looking at his hardened member. It's already huge and bulging and could be seen through his pants.

"Mm..." He chuckles and leans down to kiss your neck before he speaks again.

"You sure know how to tease your dad, don't you?" He strides his tongue along your neck towards your collar bone, his breath burns your skin.

You allow him to kiss your neck. You still think he is playing with you, so you start to get mad and pouty.

"I don't understand."

"That's alright. You'll find out soon enough." He whispers softly in your ear, and his voice is almost breathless with excitement.

"It's going to be a very special day for you." He leans in close to you and whispers softly into your ear. "Just let me take control for today, and we'll make today all about you and your special birthday." He seems to find your cluelessness endearing, and his own excitement grows as he can tell that you have no idea what he's going to do to you for your birthday.

He smiles and sits down next to you on the bed, brushing your hair out of your face.

"You're such a naive girl..." His voice is full of sultry playfulness, and he stares at you with hungry eyes. "Do you trust Daddy?"

"Of course I do."

He seems amused by your innocent trust in him.

"Do you trust me to make this day special for you?" His voice is still sultry, but he also speaks with a sense of tenderness and care now that it's clear that he has you exactly where he wants you—vulnerable, naive, and trusting of him.

"I don't understand anything you're saying."

"You don't need to understand." He smiles warmly at you and places a hand under your chin.

"Would you let Daddy control you for today?"

He seems so confident in his words and has a sly, almost mischievous grin playing at his lips.

Suddenly, you sit up. "Ohhh, I GOT IT NOW.. You want to play Barbie with me? like I am your Barbie, and you will be playing with me?"

His smile grows wider at your innocent reaction, and his eyes seem to be gleaming with anticipation now that you are beginning to understand what he has planned.

"Yes, that's exactly right." He chuckles softly as he watches you sit up. "I want to play with my doll today."

"Yes!!!! take control of me. I am your doll today," you say without still understanding its meaning.

Your innocent words fill Hiromi's heart with a deep sense of joy and excitement.

He can't help but chuckle softly as he watches you shift around excitedly.

"Oh, my dear girl, you have absolutely no idea what you're in for today." His voice is filled with admiration and satisfaction at the fact that you're so willing to give yourself over to him.

Your innocent and lively attitude warms Hiromi's heart as he watches you lay back in a lifeless pose.

"My precious little doll..." His voice has taken on a much more sensual tone as he gazes down at you.

He places his hand on your cheek and strokes it playfully while he speaks. His other hand plays with the hem of your top.

"Let me change the dress on my Barbie."

You lift your arms up just like a lifeless doll, allowing him to open your top.

The playful expression on your face excites Hiromi's heart, and he chuckles softly to himself as he removes your top.

"You really are just like a doll to me, you know that?" He strokes your hair fondly and seems to enjoy the innocent look on your face.

His caress makes your body shiver with sensations, and you can feel his breath blowing against your neck.

"I will paint your face with my makeup. You will look really pretty. My very own pretty little Barbie girl."

You giggle excitedly.

"My little Barbie girl..."

Hiromi continues to caress your body as he speaks. He begins to move his hand down toward your chest.

He caresses your breasts, gently brushing your nipples.

He rests his head on one arm while he plays with your nipples with the other hand.

He grins at your playful expression, his fingers making you squirm on the bed.

"My little Barbie girl..."

You slowly turn to look at his face and at his hands.

He notices you looking over at his hands, and he smiles softly. His eyes are filled with admiration and a touch of pride as he sees you staring at him.

"Yes, my little doll... Look at me."

He chuckles softly, enjoying your reactions. He continues to caress your chest, watching you squirm on the bed with his hand.

He gets on top of you and starts kissing your cheek, then your neck. His eyes never leaving your face.

"My little doll is blushing at my touch. She is so responsive."

He places a small peck on your lips.

"I love to play with you, my doll," he says, keeping on speaking to you while his other hand goes down to take off your shorts.

"Would you like to wear a dress or a skirt?"

"Anything Daddy wants to put on me"—your voice trembles.

His hands go down to the thighs, pulling one up to caress your inner thighs.

His hands slide slowly up and down your thigh, causing you to shiver and gasp.

He moves himself higher on the bed to hover above you as his hands caress your thighs.

"My little doll is so sensitive to my touch. I wonder where else she is sensitive to my touch."

He smiles widely at you as his fingers trail along your clad clitoral area.

You gasp at his touch.

He chuckles softly at the playful expression on your face, his eyes shining brightly with mischievous excitement.

"I would like to paint you with my make-up first.".

Hiromi gets on top of you, unbuckling his belt and finally freeing his member with a loud groan.

"Will my little doll work to get the makeup?"

"W-what is that?" Your mouth drops. His huge, hardened shaft stands erect, leaking some cum.

"It's my..."

He seems at a loss for words, his voice trailing off.

His face flushes with a deep blush when he sees your innocent reaction to his freeing himself.

"I think we should just get the makeup ready first... Don't worry about that for now. Now hold your hands out so I can put the makeup on, little doll."

His voice is still filled with a playful tone as he reaches out to grab your hands.

Your eyes widen as he guides your hand and places it on his dick.

Your expression encourages him to continue.

"You're way too cute." He glances at your small hand, trying to squeeze him.

He slowly pulls your hand up, putting it against his lower lips, nibbling on your index finger, and then placing it back on his dick.

"Rub it and press it gently. It won't come out so easily. You have to work for that," he whispers seductively.

"I don't know how to."

"I can show you." He whispers seductively, his voice filled with a sultry tone.

He moves your hand in his and along his shaft, rubbing himself up and down.

"Yeah, just like that."

He can see how your face turned red, but that does not stop him from continuing to show you how to rub him.

His breaths become longer and deeper as he watches you, and his voice becomes increasingly sensual with each word he speaks.

He can see how excited your innocent behavior is making him, and he is enjoying every second of it.

Your inexperienced movements make him feel in control, and with every movement, you make him feel more and more aroused.

"Where is the cream?"

His breath becomes even more ragged, and his face flushes more as his body begins to twitch with excitement.

"You're so impatient."

He stops and leans to get closer to your face.

"If you want the cream fast, then you have to lap your tongue on it like candy. Does my doll like candies?"

You nod and take his shaft to your mouth, licking the tip.

He can feel your tongue sliding across the tip of his breath.

"It's salty," you say, sliding your tongue across his whole length. His mouth opened wide, and his body begins to shiver.

"You realized that it wasn't just simple cream, didn't you?"

"It's a special cream?" You keep licking him and lapping at his tip.

"Yes, a very special cream." He seems incredibly aroused as his breath becomes even more ragged, and you can feel his body twitch beneath you.

Your innocent and playful reaction is making it extremely hard for him to control himself.

He begins to twitch more intensely beneath you, and his breath continues to become even more strained.

His movements become even more intense, and he starts to arch his back slightly.

"Ahh... Aaaah!" At this point, his voice begins to become more agitated as he struggles to remain in control.

He looks up at your innocent eyes, eyeing his face while you play your tongue on him, and he is almost on the verge of losing his cool and just taking you right here and now.

"Ahh, my little doll..." He seems desperate for you to continue on.

"Pls, daddy, I am so eager for your cream."

"I know."

He places his hands on your head, and his grip becomes tighter on your head as he looks at you.

Your innocent behavior continues to take him further away, and he suddenly pushes you down on him, thrusting his dick into your throat and making you choke.

"Mghn?"

He pulls you closer to him as his body continues to shiver. He seems to be struggling to remain in control, and he seems to be unable to control himself anymore. He's beginning to breathe very hard as he grips your head even tighter.

Your teary eyes start to cause his mind to break, and his grip becomes even tighter, as if he wants to crush you against him. He can't even speak anymore; it's just incoherent mutters as his body trembles.

Your jaw starts aching, and you accidentally press your teeth against his shaft.

He lets out a loud groan as he feels your teeth on him. He grips your head even harder as he starts to whisper again.

"You're a bad little doll." He mutters as his voice cracks, and his breaths become even more strained as he pushes your head down on his length one more time.

Tears roll down your cheek as angry eyes spray upon him.

"My doll is angry with her dad now?"

He starts thrusting into your throat again. Drools slide down your mouth.

"Ah." His voice takes on a more seductive tone, and his smile grows more mischievous.

"Is my doll angry that I'm not giving her what she wants quick enough?"

You make a whimpering hum.

He bites his lip as his body continues to tremble. He takes his thumb and gently wipes the tear from your cheek.

"I see, I see, my dear." He runs his fingers gently through your hair as he caresses your cheek. "You're so desperate already, aren't you?"

He slows down his thrusts in order to tease you.

You squeeze his dick again with your teeth.

The little nibble causes him to let out a louder grunt than you'd expect considering how delicate your bites are.

"You're such a bad doll... And now you're even angry with me."

He runs his hands through your hair as he takes his dick out of your mouth and stares deep into your eyes.

"Do you want me to punish bad dolls?"

You wipe your mouth and give him an evil smirk.

"What's that, hmm? My doll is so curious as to what kind of punishment I will use."

He caresses your lips with his fingertips while he speaks.

"You are not being a good doll, and I'm going to punish you for it."

His voice is becoming increasingly playful, but at the same time, his touches still seem to make your skin tingle and shiver.

He takes off his white shirt and lays on the bed. He pulls you towards him.

"D-dad-"

"My doll, sit on my face."

As you are going to protest, he pulls you close again and yanks your panties off. His spreads your legs apart, his fingers parting your wet labia. He flips you so that you are now on top of him as his breath hits directly on your cunt, making you squirm in sudden sensation.

"Let's see how you respond to this."

With every word, he intentionally blows over your pussy , making you mewl and wrap your thighs around his face.

He feels you squirm once again, so he pulls his shirt, which was lying on the bed, and ties it to your hand, placing your hands above his hair.

He gives your clit a gentle lick, you arch in response.

As he feels you arch, he's eyes roll back slightly with excitement and then open up again with a deep and primal urge.

His breathing grows deeper and heavier as his lips brush against you, sucking on your clit then tongue slides against your entrance.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Shhh," he mumbles against your skin, kissing your inner thigh.

"M-my.. I"

He chuckles and presses you down on him; his hand grips you tightly to stop you from squirming.

"Please, I am going to release something. Stop."

Hiromi smirk. His tongue, continuously flicking on your clit.

You feel a strange warmth building inside you.

You grip his hair tighter while riding his face, your hips unconsciously buck against his face. Thighs fasten around his head as you arch back to release.

"Daddy," you say, with his tongue still on your clit , gently teasing and making you overly sensitive.

"Let it out..."

"G-gah," your whole body vibrates with every breath that hits against your clit. Your heart starts to beat quicker.

You can see him licking his lips, and he pulls away from you.

"Did it feel good?"

"What was that?" you ask, avoiding eye contact.

"Was my doll so nervous that she couldn't even look at her daddy's face?" He says it in a teasing tone.

His lips curl into a playful smile as he wraps his arms around you again, his body pressed against yours as he pulls you close to him.

You're suddenly caught off guard by his actions and before you knew it, he leans his head towards you, and he suddenly presses his lips against yours. His breath is hot and heavy. He pushes you down on the bed, and his hand travels to your oversensitive clit.

"Do you like your own taste?"

He gives you a peck once more, and the feeling of you licking his lips causes him to smirk. He inserts two of his fingers inside you, scissoring and stretching your hole. You moan and struggle against him, and your movements makes him even more aroused.

"You're good, very good... Now, the final part of getting the cream."

"Why is it so hard to get the cream? It must be really special."

"Oh, this cream is very special. It's my secret recipe. You won't be able to get it from anywhere but me." He chuckles softly before pulling his fingers out and whispering to you again, getting on top of you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Just a bit more, my doll. We're almost there."

He pushes himself inside your wetness.

"Aaaah~" you scream out in sudden thrust.

He stares into your pain-inflicted face.

"Does my doll feel hurt?"

He starts moving slowly.

"Yes, d- don't move."

He can feel your eyes begin to tear up and your body shudder as the feeling gets harder and harder to bear. He swirls his tongue on your hardened nipples and squeezes your breasts gently.

He pulls you closer to him and whispers softly in your ear, "I know I'm being too rough with you, but please bear with me just for a little bit more. The feeling will be worth it. Trust me."

"You're such a good little doll that even after all that pain and discomfort, you still trust your dad." He caresses your tear-stained cheek as he begins to speed up.

Hiromi's voice becomes more and more frantic as the pace increases. You feel a strange warmth growing between your legs as his thrusts start getting sloppier and rougher. His hand travels down your neck, slightly choking you while swirling his tongue with yours.

"Does my doll want more?"

"I want the cream," you moan.

"That's good to know...Don't be impatient; good things will come to those who wait."

He whispers softly into your ear.

Hiromi pulls out of you and looks at you with a smirk. He pushes your legs onto your chest and inserts himself once more, his dick reaching deeper and hits your cervix.

"I-I can't breathe", you grab onto his neck.It becomes unbearable for you to take it anymore.

"Just a bit more, my doll; we're almost there."

Hiromi begins to kiss you passionately as he grips you tightly again.

His tongue starts to move to your earlobe, nibbling the tip.

"Ah, good doll, I see you're taking this really well."

He begins to move faster than before, and your body shudders from the intensity of the sensation.

"Good, good, don't stop taking it in doll."

His breath becomes more rapid as he pulls you even closer against him, and he whispers into your ear.

"You're taking it so well, my doll."

You moan, and your body starts shaking again.

His breath becomes heavier as he speeds up, making the sensation even more powerful and clear.

"You're a good doll, such a good little doll... Keep taking it; keep taking it all in."

His voice becomes more desperate, and his pace increases even more.

Your stomach tightens as you release again with a loud moan. Hiromi slows down his pace, letting you calm your nerves. Your walls clamp around his shaft, squeezing them. His breath becomes heavier, and he gets to the edge too. He thrusts a few more times before spilling inside you, stuffing your pussy with his infertile seed.

"Was it good?"

Hiromi looks into your eyes with a playful grin as he pulls out of you, watching his seed drool down your clamping pussy.

You breathe through your mouth as your heart beat starts getting back to normal.

Hiromi stares at you for a bit; he seems pleased with your response. He pulls you close again and kisses you with a soft smile.

"Good, doll, was it everything you had hoped for?"

"But my cream??"

He stares at you for a bit; your body is shaking from satisfaction, and he smiles. He laughs a bit and speaks up, "Alright."

He pushes two of his fingers into your dripping hole, making you flinch and arch back. He gathers some of his cum, applying it to your cheeks and lips.

You lick your lips and giggle.

"You like it?" Hiromi lays next to you, spooning you.

"Mhm..salty," you say, drowning in sleep.

He looks down at you and sees you begin to slowly drift asleep.

Hiromi can't help but grin as he pulls you close to him and kisses your head.

"My barbie"

[tihgnari]

ꕤ 53. keep things lowkey (ღ)

tw: none / wc: 1.3k

only when ayato reached across the limousine's rear cup holder to interlace his fingers with yours did you realize you've been practicing yet again a bad habit of yours — your nervousness manifesting by how you pick at your nails.

ayato chuckles, glancing at you. "love, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. i'll be there with you at all times, i promise — i just hope you don't get bored over business talk, if you do, well… i'd like to apologize in advance."

"it's just…" you mutter under your breath, looking out the window. "other than this is going to be my first gala, you're this important person, and i'm just nervous i might do something to embarrass you."

he squeezes your hand, urging you to look at him. "are you kidding? you? embarrass me? have you met yourself?"

you laugh, blushing at the eye contact. crazy how he can still erupt such butterflies in your stomach when a year has already passed of being together. you knew what you were getting yourself into, so ayato finally breaking the news to the public weeks ago was something that didn't faze you at all. however, today's the day you see if you'll truly fit into his world.

you bring his hand to your lips.

"just afraid of not fitting in."

the light turns green, and the car makes its final left turn and you immediately see the backs of the paparazzi grouped before a red carpet, in front of the monumental architecture of today's venue, leeum museum of art. you already imagine yourself standing before them, the flash of the cameras burning your retinas as you stand with your arm looped around ayato's.

this is it. this is the life you accepted when ayato finally asked you to become his. while he offered that you need not make appearances if it doesn't suit your comfort, you disagreed and said you were willing to go through the criticizing eyes of the public if it meant you can show up for him loudly and proudly.

but of course… first day jitters are a thing.

ayato pulls up but before he opens the doors, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

"just be yourself, my love. i love you because of who you are and i am every bit confident they will love you just the same. if there's some who thinks otherwise, well…" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling his sweetest smile. "you memorize their face, what they're wearing, and you tell me. no one disrespects you in my gala."

—

the night was running smoothly thus far, exchanging numerous handshakes with business owners who approached ayato. when some do not, you notice the way ayato's brow would raise before introducing you properly as his lover, only then did their eyes land on you and promptly offer a handshake, muttering a few apologies for not noticing you.

your boyfriend huffs, as you fix his tie in the side, eyeing the last man who initially didn't bother to greet you. "where are the manners of some of these people? they should know how to address a lady when they see one."

"my love, please… let it go, it's okay he still greeted me anyway!"

"only because i introduced you," he shakes his hand. "you are not some eye candy dangling off my arm! they can't ignore you. you deserve to be addressed just as properly as they address me."

you click your tongue playfully, cupping his face and softly urging him to look at you. his hardened gaze softens when he meets your eyes. for a moment, you don't say anything, and you visibly see the tension ease off his shoulders. he turns his head to nose at the palm of your hand, offering a light kiss.

"okay, i'm calm."

"thank you."

the dj increases the volume of the music just as she changed it from light house music to a more romantic one, perfect for a dance. the lights dimmed, people standing to the side as a circle forms, men and women alike already asking their wives or lovers to dance.

ayato steps back with a flare before bowing to you, offering his hand. "my lady, would you be so kind as to allow this lowly gentleman to grace the dance floor with you?"

you laugh, before casually starting to play along. "but of course, i shall dance with thee!"

he pulls you along, his hand tucked in the small of your back as you slow dance and suddenly it's just the two of you in an empty museum. "so…" he trails, a hint of a contented smile on his. "how was your first gala, my love?"

"well… i guess it was everything that i expected?" you laugh. "the crowd, the business talk, champagne… now i'm feeling kinda stupid i was nervous to begin with, everyone has been nothing but lovely."

ayato pulls you closer, burying his nose in your hair. "well, i am a good judge of character — minus the few who initially ignored you when they spoke to me," you pulled away, narrowing your eyes at him as he laughed and shook his head, moving on quickly. "okaaaay, i was just kidding… maybe. but i'm glad everything went smoothly, my love."

a moment of silence dawns on you both as you find a comfortable nook on his neck, him resting his cheek against your hair as he secures his hold around your waist, feeling so comfortable and at peace in each other's arms as you both sway to the music.

"can't believe we've come this far," he mutters. "who would've thought the girl drinking gin at kappa sig is the one for me."

"wait a minute," you pull away, looking at him with eyes wide in shock. "you knew it was me?"

"of course, i'm not the type to forget things when i get drunk," he laughs, amused by the face you're making. "i was a little hurt when you pretended not to recognize me at my apartment, but i gave it some thought and realized how the hell we would've explained to ayaka how we met? so i just went with it."

you shrug, burying your face in his neck in shame. "this is embarrassing, i thought you didn't know it was me — ugh, what the hell — i'm sorry i said all those stuff before pressuring you to kiss me —"

you feel the vibrations in his shoulders. "love, what? you didn't kiss me."

your shame hits the pause button and you look up at him questioningly. "what? we didn't kiss?"

"no, of course not! you were drunk, you wouldn't be in the right state of mind to give your consent… even though you told me i didn't look like i was 'kamisato material' and assuming that i was a bad kisser…"

"don't even —!"

he laughs, loud enough that a few couples dancing turned their heads and you hit his shoulder. when his laugh mellows and he looks at you, he mutters. "you know, i wouldn't change a thing in our storyline. sure, we hit rock bottom a few times, but it's our story."

you don't know why when you look him in the eyes, it feels like seeing him for the first time — free of any restraints from third parties asking you both not to be together.

you crack a small smile. "i'm not proud of the things i did to you but i am beyond thankful that even then, even after everything — we're here, together. makes me think 'maybe we were meant to be' you know?"

"i think so, too." ayato mirrors your smile. "i'm glad you don't have to keep your feelings all… lowkey, anymore. i see how loudly you love me, and it's all i ever wanted."

you laugh, sneaking a kiss on his lips.

"never wanted to keep things lowkey, anyway."

LOWKEY » previous : masterlist

a kamisato ayato social media au

summary — it was only recently you found out kamisato ayaka was, in fact, not an only child after all! seeing ayato for the first time gave you the severest case of the butterflies but according to ayaka, he’s off limits, especially to you as her most treasured friend. well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?

note — aaaand thats a wrap! if you made it this far, ur an awesome hooman being hehe thank you so much for reading! <3

[mulansaucey]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts.

Azriel x Reader

Prompt: Rita has a new supply of Moonshine and gives a jar to the IC. This creates a blacked out drunk Azriel.

Warnings: alcohol use, flirting, suggestive, mentions of sex, drunken behavior. Let me know if I left anything out.

Note: Literally sitting in bed when I had this idea. This is just for fun and I hope you enjoy!

Music playing in the halls of Rita’s surrounds the Inner Circle as well as laughter. Shot glasses banging against their table, squeals of joy from seeing the glasses of those pretty cocktails that Feyre and Mor like so much, and the beautiful smile that graces my mates face. Tonight is for fun and bonding.

Azriel has been on a month long mission just returning to me a few days ago where we cooped up in our cozy home, enjoying the song of our mating bond before returning to society. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in my chest. Color, music, art becomes void. Life is not as exciting without him by my side. Even after decades of being married and mated the bond is still alive and thriving as if it was still the night he took a bite out of that meal I made him to accept him as my mate.

I’m an accomplished fae. I’ve strategized wars, wrote countless books on the plant life of Prythian that has helped healers cultivate new medicines, and have helped the Inner Circle for almost two centuries now. When he’s away, I keep myself occupied and have my job to thank for that but that aching feeling doesn’t go away.

That’s the strength of a mating bond, it brings males to their knees. It brought Azriel to his. Our souls submitting to one another and refusing to settle for anything less than each other.

“What’s so interesting, love?” Azriel teases as I can’t my eyes off him. Those hazel eyes trail over me, even in the haze of faelights it feels like he can see every inch of me. He bites his lip as if he’s recalling just a few hours ago when he was biting the meat of my thighs. I know I am. Heat rises in my cheeks as he laughs and leans down to the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. The bond between thrums with satisfaction that our beings are even closer now. His hand finds the back of my neck and he caresses.

“You, my heart. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you.” I tease him back.

The shots making my mind looser and my flirty tendencies arise. I’m a horny drunk when it comes to this male. Who wouldn’t?

Azriel raises his brows and smirks. He leans down to press a sweet kiss then pulls back.

“You are lovely in this dress. I can’t wait to rip it off you tonight.” He says as he presses sweet kisses along my cheek and jaw.

“Azriel you better not! It’s embarrassing having to keep going to the tailor because you have no self control.”

“Self control? We’ll see how much self control I have later, you’ll begging for me I promise you that.” He laughs.

Suddenly a heavy presence can be felt behind us. I don’t even have to turn to know it’s Cassian.

He slaps the back of Azriel’s chair and loudly yells, “Stop the heavy petting and come to the bar, Rita just got a new drink called ‘Moonshine’ it’s apparently a lot stronger than any wine or whiskey.”

Cassian doesn’t wait for an answer and picks me up while yelling over his shoulder, “If you want her, Az you gotta come get her!” We leave a trail of giggles as my grumpy mate follows.

Azriel trusts his brother and knows Cassian just missed him and wants to have fun. It’s why he doesn’t cut off his hands for touching my body.

Cassian drops me on a bar stool and leans over to drop a sloppy kiss to Nesta’s cheek as she bats him. From the corner of my eye though I can see her pulling him back to her to give him a proper kiss. I’m happy for my friends as they had a very tumultuous start to their mate ship. As I’m trying not to be nosy in my friends business Azriel comes to stand behind me, strategically blocking me from any other males or females view. Azriel is selfish when it comes to me. I can’t blame him, he’s waited centuries for me. And I him.

Rita walks up to us with a jar of clear liquid. It looks innocent, like water, but knowing her that liquid will make you regret ever being born. But that’s the appeal to Rita. She knows how to have fun and has quality supply.

“Alright ladies and gentlebats this is Moonshine. It’s technically whiskey but its process makes the alcohol stronger and you drunker quicker. I will give you a shot, on the house, if you like it I’ll sell a jar to you. This stuff is no joke and illegal in some courts. More recently our High Lord and Lady gave me the okay to produce it.” Rita winks to Feyre and Rhys.

We all look over them and Rhys shrugs, “Feyre wanted to try it, I couldn’t say no.”

We all laugh at the lack of ability our friend has to say no to his wife. I see Feyre eye the glass with excitement.

“Feyre you do the honors of first shot!” I yell out as she takes the glass and downs it in one gulp.

She freezes and we wait on bated breath. Her eye twitches and she gives a full body shiver. We break in laughter at her funny reaction as she immediately takes her fruity cocktail from Rhys, who was mid sip, and takes a few gulps.

Feyre’s face twist in disgust as she tells us, “That’ll definitely get you fucked up, I feel like I’ve grown chest hair.”

Laughter fills our area again. Rhys presses a kiss against Feyre’s head as he reaches for his own shot glass. Each of us besides Amren and Varian, who are currently in Summer, reach for our own. I clank my shot glass against Azriel’s and down my shot. I immediately regret this decision as pure alcohol burns my throat. It’s worse than the tonics Madja gives us. At least we get some what rewarded for that. I put my glass down and look over at my mate. His free hand softly rubbing my upper back, he downs the shot and smack his lips.

“It’s definitely strong but I don’t mind it.” Azriel says to the group.

I pout at him and say, “Of course it doesn’t bother you, Shadowsinger.” He rolls his eyes and moves his hand from the back of my neck to the front. Slowly moving my head back so far I have no choice but to look at him and only him.

“It’s Shadowsinger now is it?” He smirks down at me. Before I can reply peanuts that Rita supplies generously across her bar are being pelted at us. Azriel loosens his hold on me as we both turn to our family.

“You two are like bunnies, I feel like I need to spray you two with a bottle of water.” Nesta says.

I gasp and laugh out, “Like you have any room to talk! The House of Wind is contaminated with you and Cassian’s fluids.” All I get is more peanuts being thrown at me. The two of us dissolve into giggles as I throw them back at her. Cassian and Azriel having to take it away.

Cassian then turns his attention to Rita watching us in amusement.

“We’ll take a jar please, you always know how to make me feel good.” He winks at her. Rita rolls her eyes and passes him the jar.

“I’m charging you extra for that little stunt.” She says back to him.

“Oh c’mon that was a compliment! You’ve got the best stuff in the city.” He argues as Nesta shushes him. Nesta opted out of drinking, instead preferring to smoke mirthroot.

We all go back to our designated booth empty shit glasses in tow. We decide to play truth or drink. Azriel being the secretive person he is rather take the shot then tell the truth. I have a feeling he just wants to indulge the rare drink. I don’t blame him, he works hard for his court and he’s allowed to drop his inhibitions. Ever since we’ve gotten together I’ve taught him about self care and allowing one self to enjoy the moment. The centuries of training and spy work are still instilled in him, something even I can’t take away. But with the love of his mate and family he’s allowed himself to be happy.

I didn’t like the moonshine so I stuck to my cocktails then water, as I had a feeling someone needed to be more sober than the others. Azriel takes his eighth shot when he freezes. I still, looking around to see if anything was amiss. When I look back at him I see him smiling.

“You are a rare jewel.” He says so casually. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the world. He reaches over to brush my hair out of my eyes when instead he pokes me. This clumsy move tells me, he’s drunk. He giggles as I jump back slightly from a literal finger poking my eye.

“I’m so sorry love. Wow your skin is so soft.” Azriel starts touching my face in fascination. He then pulls me into his strong embrace. The awkward is angle but he just sighs constantly. Happy to be holding me. He starts petting my hair as if I’m a cute kitten.

The confused yet amused looks across the table have me pulling back from my mates embrace when he loudly says, “Noooooo, don’t leave me. I was so comfortable.”

I can hear and see Rhys and Cass laughing and clutching each other. Azriel RARELY gets drunk. I feel bad, maybe I should’ve limited how much he could drink since it’s not his usual stuff. Azriel has a fairly high tolerance for his usual whiskey or beer. Eight shots of his regular choice of drink would be nothing but him drinking moonshine has him reacting differently. I feel a little guilty but Azriel has carried me home and taken care of me plenty of times. Tonight I promise myself to return the favor.

“I know my heart, but I need a glass of water and so do you. I’ll be right back, I promise.” I caress his face and he looks at me with so much love I almost don’t want to go even if it’s a few minutes.

“Okay, hurry back. Take a shadow.” He says with a pout. A shadow always sticks with me regardless of his command or not. I shove my love down our bond for his thoughtfulness. Azriel gives me a goofy grin and pushes his love down to me.

“I need a drink, c’mon. Lover boy will be just fine.” Feyre says as she drags me away from my mate.

His eyes trailing after me until Cass and Rhys grab his shoulders to get his attention. Knowing my mate is in safe hands has me turning to Feyre. We talk a little about her art studio and Nyx. She confesses to having a bit of Mom guilt when she goes out. The alcohol making her a bit weepy from missing her son. I distract her by dragging her to the dance floor, after checking to make sure Azriel was still with the boys and has a glass of water.

After a few songs Mor and Nesta join us. I still keep an eye on my mate, making sure he’s okay and having fun. The next time I turn my eyes to him he’s gone. Panic fills my chest as I look around the bar for him. When I look up to the second floor I see him and his brother attempting to climb the rail. At that moment I decide it’s time to go home. I grab the girls and haul their asses the second floor before any of our mates cracks their skull open. The boys had way more moonshine than we did.

We successfully get them away from the railing, I grab Azriel’s face and he gently shoves me off of him. I frown at him, water lining my eyes at his rejection towards me. I go to ask him what’s wrong but before I do he tells me, “I am a mated male! You can not touch me.”

He sways a little grabbing onto Rhys for support. Rhys is already getting yelled at by his High Lady but she stops to turn to Azriel in amusement.

“What did he just say?” Feyre says to me. I stay silent for a moment realizing the situation. I slightly smile at my mates loyalty even though it is me who is touching him. I tell Feyre to grab Rhys and I can handle Azriel.

“Azriel, my heart. It’s me, I’m your mate.” I tell him gently helping him find his balance.

“I don’t want to go home with you. I want my mate. She will take care of me. I don’t need you.” As he’s still struggling to walk. I ignore him and help him down the stairs all the while he’s protesting insisting he has a wife and mate waiting for him at home. I roll my eyes fondly. Knowing it’s going to a rough walk home. He insists that I only touch his arm.

“I am a gentleman and my wife would be mad I let you walk home alone but I am not sharing a bed with you. She is only one I share my bed with. I love her.” He says to me, total seriousness.

I take a look at him noting his shirt is wrinkled from Cassian constantly grabbing onto him, his hair is wild, and his walk is staggered. I make a mental note to never let him drink Moonshine again. He trips slightly making me grab onto his back and front. He looks at me weirdly and takes my hands off his body.

“I don’t know youuuu. My body is reserved for my wife, I am fine with walking on my own.” His words are sloppy and he trips again. Laughing at him I ignore his protests and guide him to our shared home. The walk is a struggle as he keeps tripping yet insisting I keep my hands off him. I shove my love down the bond hoping he’ll recognize me that way. I feel more assured that even if I wasn’t with him and he was drunk he’d always come home to me. I hear him sigh with content and he lazily slaps his chest.

“This here, in my heart, she’s calling to me. I need to go home to her. I can feel her. I want to go home.” He pouts.

“Okay big guy, I’m gonna get you home to her. I’m sure she misses you.” I say, playing along. If I play along I’m hoping it’ll make him more amiable.

“She does! I can feel her even when I’m miles and miles away. I miss her too. Sometimes when I’m in the same room as her, I miss her. I just want her all to my self.” He confesses, I notice he’s started to slowly relax letting me guide him home. The thought of seeing me being his motivator. My heart is fluttering seeing him like this. Azriel is usually so smooth and calculated. His words to me sound like poetry, like a crafted song made just for me to hear. Now he’s confessing his love to, how he perceives, a stranger. Apart of me knows that he must know it’s me. Even if it’s deep down. But I can’t help but feel so special to him.

I finally spot our home, the sight of our porch makes me let an out a sound of relief.

Azriel looks to what I see and goes, “How do you know where I live? I don’t remember telling you. I wouldn’t have told you! I told you that I don’t want to go home with you.” He pushes himself away from me stumbling to our small gate. He struggled to unlock and me being exhausted from helping a 6’5 Illryian male slap his hands away and move to open it. He rubs his hand where I slapped and looks at me with a pout.

“Oh you’re okay! Stop being a baby and come inside please.” I tell him, laughing lightly at him. He moves to walk past me but turns before I can even take a step on the porch.

“This is as far as you can go. My wife will not be disrespected by having another female in our home.” He says with a serious face. The message isn’t as threatening since he’s still swaying and eyes glossed over. I smile at him and make a move to walk around him but he pushes his arms out, clumsily I might add, and repeats what he just said. I hold my arms up in surrender to this ridiculous statement.

“Azriel, my heart. I am your wife, you are mated to me. And I want to be in our bed and snuggle. Don’t you?” I ask giving him my best puppy dog eye. I don’t even know if it’ll work if the liquor made him forget who I was entirely. He goes to reply when he bends over to his side and pukes. I rush to his side and rub his back. He stand up again and leans against a pillar on our porch. His face smushed against it I can faintly hear.

“I want my mate…I’m not going home with you.” I roll eyes, trying not to get upset with him because it isn’t his fault and I know I’m not a doll to be around when I’m drunk. I walk towards our door, it unlocks automatically due to the ward Azriel insisted on placing. I try to gently push him inside. His wings knocking over a vase I was gifted from a past High Lord of Summer, I grimace as the antique lays broken on the floor. He looks around for what made the loud sound and he gasps loudly as if I was the one broken on the floor.

“My wife is going to kill me! Fuck, fuck, shit. Oh my gods I need to go to summer now! I need to go before she notices it’s broken.” He says making a move for the door. I immediately put a stop to that and drag him to our bedroom. I think he’s exhausted himself and flops down on the bed. Not making any moves. I start unlacing his boot and once I’ve got them off I go for his pants.

He slaps my hands away and goes, “I can undress myself. You have no right to touch me there! Go home before my wife finds you, she’ll kill you. My mate is verrrry possessive of me. She won’t like youuuu.” He sings at me.

He starts giggling and taking off his pants and shirt while moving to grab my pillow and holds onto it like it’s the answer of all his prayers.

“I miss her so much. I’m in bed but she isn’t here. It smells like her, I never want to smell anything again. Only her.” I make a face at him, I didn’t see how that makes sense but he’s drunk so I don’t question it. I make sure he has a glass of water and is tucked into bed before I make my move to join him. As soon as I start to move the cover he jolts back up, still clutching my pillow.

“Thank you for taking me home but I insist you take the couch. I will never share a bed with another female. I will not have our marriage bed tainted by a stranger.” He says eyeing me like I’m the King of Hybern resurrected.

“Enough, sweetheart. Tonight has been really funny and sweet but I want to sleep. Don’t you want to cuddle?” I say, I glance at the clock noting the late hour. He doesn’t make a move and stays silent. Giving me the answer I needed.

“As I stated you can take the couch as thank you but you have to leave before my WIFE comes home.” Azriel states, emphasizing the wife part as if I’m the drunken one.

“Okay I give up, I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight my love.” I say stealing a quick kiss from him that leaves him stuttering and blushing.

“Y-you just kissed me! That’s so rude, that’s-“ I close the door cutting off his rant. I go down the hall for our closet where we keep the extra blankets and pillows. I settle in our large and comfy couch that Azriel insisted on getting when we moved in. I’m now thankful he insisted. I start laughing recalling the night. Tonight was stressful but has shown me how loved I am. I have a male who’s loyal and kind. Even when he thought I was a stranger he wanted to walk me home so I wasn’t alone. I’m thankful to call him mine. I’m thankful to be his. I drift off to sleep with a soft smile, excited to tease him to no end in the morning for this stunt he pulled tonight.

——

Sunlight enters my home, the warmth of it caressing my cheek. I nuzzle closer to the warmth when I realize it’s Azriel’s hand. He’s sitting on the floor, his hair is a mess and he’s laying his head down close to mine. His eyes look groggy and I can tell he didn’t have a good sleep.

“Where were you last night? I couldn’t sleep without you.” He whispers gently, as if the sound of his own voice made his head ache.

I start laughing loudly, Azriel flinching back and rubbing his head. I start laughing so hard I start crying. My mate looks at me unamused.

“I’m sorry my love. But you literally kicked me out of our bed and made me sleep here. You insisted.” I tell him, laughter seeping through my words.

His mouth drops down in shock. He’s still rubbing his head and I feel bad so I start massaging his scalp the way I know he likes. I gets himself up off the floor and into my awaiting arms. Azriel secretly loves being the small spoon so I baby him and rub down his back and up into his scalp. The mating bond compelling me to make sure he’s okay and loved.

I start recalling the night for him. Apparently after that eighth shot he completely blacked out. He doesn’t remember a single thing from last night past that point. He grumbles and hides his face in my neck. His words coming out muffled.

“I’m so sorry. I hate not being in control like that. I’m sorry for treating you like that.” He says while pressing kisses on my neck and he squeezes me even tighter.

“It’s okay, you’ve taken care of me plenty of times when I’m drunk. I’m glad you were having fun and it was really sweet of you to defend my honor and our bond even if it was me. I love you so much for it.” I tell him making sure his eyes were on me. I cradled his face, caressing the scars and stubble that reside there. He leans down to give me soft kiss once, twice, three times before he nuzzles his nose against mine.

Azriel may be hard to read, stoic, and cold to everyone else but here, in the privacy and intimacy of our home he’s lovable and soft. A privilege to be able to see this of side. The decades of trust and memories helping him become a more loving person.

“How are you feeling though?” I ask him, he groans and lays his head down.

“I feel like absolute death. Actually death would be more merciful than what I’m feeling now.” My mate, the dramatic. I go to move to make him some tea and a light meal for his tummy but he just holds me tighter.

“Just stay for a little longer, I finally feel better now that I’m with you.”

Who am I to resist and say no? So I settle in and relishbeing with my mate and husband. Enjoying a quiet morning after such a loud night.

[aloesarchives]

Father's Day Special(JJK Oneshot)

Tags/Warning: AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Domesticity, Fluff, Unhinged Crack(Especially near the End), Mention of Balls but not Smut(I promise), JJK OC(but not main X Reader)

Word Count: 5.5k words

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader

Reader Pronouns/Usage: (She/Her), Mama, Mom, Doll, Baby

So I know I'm three days late for Father's Day but I couldn't help but write this out. It's been busy and absolute hell with getting ready for Uni. But by July, things will slow down and I can focus more on getting shit down and stop procrastinating. I hella miss writing, I needa get back into the grove of it.

Also, forgot to mention, this fic was based on a true event. Dramatization was an all time high but loosely based on an interaction I had with my own mom lol

“What do you think Dad wants, Megumi?”

“Honestly, I have no clue. I thought Mom was hard but it’s actually Dad.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because he never buys anything new. Even if he does, it’s either meant for the house or us. Dad still wears the same black t-shirt since we were kids. He doesn’t have expensive taste either. No cologne, no wrist watch, no shoes, nothing.”

Tsumiki and Megumi feel more empathetic to Toji than either right now. Father’s Day is tomorrow and the two are out trying to get their dad a gift. But just like Toji, they feel stuck on what to get him. With you, their mother, it’s more subtle and personalized. Tailored to your taste and personality, seems hard at first but gets easier once getting the smaller details. Is it more on the pricier side? Yes, but you are their mother and do so much for them that you deserve anything and everything good to come your way.

But Toji, he’s a different story.

Growing up, the two saw how laidback their dad was. No putting much effort into keeping appearance or staying with the latest trends. They learned early on that Toji only dresses decently, or at least looks presentable, because of you. Outfit coordination was all on you, you always picked out Toji’s outfit or had the final say on what he’s wearing. Obviously over time, he’s learned the art of dressing himself up but he always asks you for the final say.

Anyhow, clothes are out because Megumi and Tsumiki know Toji wears them until they are rags. He still wears the same basketball shorts around the house since they were babies.

They’re teenagers in high school now.

Toji’s old shirts and shorts just get converted to loungewear and home clothes. Some of them have holes but Toji seems to care less about them. Toji also has no expensive taste or an interest in creating one. He believes you pay for the quality but that’s on certain things like a wrench or drill. He never understood the whole throwing your money to look high class. Pointing out that things can stick out like a nail and look out of place. He grew up in a family with money, he knows.

Then Toji literally has everything he needs. That’s what the kids always hear.

“I have (Y/N), my kids, a nice house with space to work, food, and my equipment. The hell I need anything else when it’s all right ‘ere.”

People’s dreams and aspirations are different. Having a family is a common one many have. But Megumi and Tsumiki could clearly see the fond and tender nature their dad somehow exhibits, and it’s only exclusive to the family. They didn’t think much of it until they asked you. Upon explaining Toji's life up until meeting you, Tsumiki and Megumi finally let it sit why their dad acts the way he does.

“Your Papa…didn’t expect to have this type of life—To have a home, a wife and kids. He’d never imagine himself to get this because he didn’t think it'd happen to him, especially how he grew up. But it did and he never took it for granted since. Your Papa has treated me beyond the means of well over the years, it’s only fair I do the same for him. I’m not forcing you two to follow suit. But at the very least, try to understand your Dad and his circumstances. That’s all I ask of you two.”

With that, no wonder they’ve never met anyone from Toji’s side besides Maki and Mai. That and an explanation to your fierce protectiveness towards Toji at the mention of his “family”. So here Megumi and Tsumiki are, along with their litter sister Mayumi, concocting an idea on what to get Toji. They were going to call you but ditched the idea to not inconvenience you as you were busy yourself. Currently in Shibuya walking in one of the shopping districts, they searched high and low for anything that would make a decent Father’s Day gift.

Tsumiki threw up some ideas but Megumi shot them down because it’s not practical for their Dad.

“Megumi, at this point, we can’t get Papa anything! What do you have in mind that Papa will actually use?”

Megumi thought for a second before shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ve got nothing, Tsumiki. I’m drawing a blank here.”

Tsumiki sighs before looking around again. Meanwhile, Mayumi’s curiosity was becoming impulsive. She wanted to look at anything and everything as long as her pretty little eyes laid on it. Holding onto Megumi’s hand, she tries to keep pace with her older siblings in the busy street. However, after walking for a few minutes, Mayumi came to a stop as she stared at one of the stores. Feeling his arm be pulled back, Megumi looks down to see Mayumi staring off.

“Mayumi, what are you looking at?”

Tsumiki also stopped when she noticed her two younger siblings weren’t behind her. Crouching down, she wanted to see what had caught her baby sister’s attention.

“Is there something you want to look at, Mayumi-chan?”

Mayumi looks at Tsumiki before nodding and pointing to the store that has captured her attention. Megumi and Tsumiki look to see that the store that has captured her attention was Uniqlo. Surprisingly enough, this was a clothing store that mostly made up Megumi AND Toji’s wardrobes. Tugging Megumi along, Mayumi walks into the store with a mission. The two look at each other with curiosity, wondering what their little sister was so dead set on finding. They watched as Mayumi’s eyes scanned the racks and shelves, head darting up, down, left, and right. Megumi makes a decision to let go of her hand to see what she’ll do. Upon feeling her hand’s release, Mayumi speed walks away to the Men’s side. Megumi and Tsumiki made haste to not lose sight of her. Now it’s their turn in trying to keep up with her as she continuously searches for what she’s looking for.

Megumi starts to panic when Mayumi seemingly vanishes before him. He swore he only took his eyes off of her for a split second, and now she’s gone. He was close to going into search party mode when he spotted Mayumi standing before one of the shelving displays. Letting himself breath again, he walks over to where she was before picking her up.

“Mayumi, you can’t run off like that! You know you’ll get lost and separated from Tsumiki and I. You have to make sure you can see us close behind before going on your own.” Megumi lightly chastised her. Though, he never could get mad at her no matter what she did.

Mayumi pouts slightly at Megumi, understanding what she did was dangerous.

“Sorry, Gumi-Nii. Didn’t mean to do it to you and Miki-Nee…But! I found Papa’s Father’s Day gift!” Mayumi excitedly exclaims, pointing to the rack.

Megumi looks to see what she means and by then Tsumiki caught up to the two. Tsumiki also follows to see what the two were staring at. The section she was pointing at was the Men’s section for underwear and socks. Tsumiki chuckles while Megumi becomes both confused and a little embarrassed. Mayumi squirms in Megumi’s arms, signaling him to let her down. Once safely on the ground, Mayumi grabs a packet and holds it up to her siblings.

“Mayumi-chan, why do you think this can be a gift for Papa? You think Papa would need this?” Tsumiki gently asks her, hoping to understand what she meant.

Mayumi nods quickly, continuing to hold up the boxer packet.

“Yes! Because Papa needs new ones!”

Tsumiki and Megumi looked at each other surprised before Tsumiki looked back at Mayumi.

“How do you know, Mayumi-chan?”

“Mama said it when she was folding the clothes after drying them! This was when Papa was out with Uncle Shui! She said why does Papa keep wearing his underwear even though they have holes in them. I saw what she was talking about because Papa does have holes in his underwear! So, why not get Papa new underwear?”

Tsumiki found this amusing and a bit funny at Mayumi’s enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Megumi had a furious blush painted across his face. He didn’t expect their shopping trip to go this way. Let alone, the deciding gift was the most plain and not so well-thought out of. Though Megumi felt his embarrassment burn his entire being, he’s not complaining about the gift choice. He knew it was a practical gift for their dad, especially knowing Toji’s track record when it came to clothing.

As strange as it is to admit, Megumi couldn’t deny that a go-to gift to give to any guy is a pack of brand new underwear paired with a fresh pack of socks. He knew there’s nothing you could do wrong with that combination. He even witnessed it firsthand when Yuuji was way too excited when he got a box filled with pairs of socks and boxer briefs for his birthday. And knowing how lax Toji is, Toji probably would like this more than anything. So Megumi stays quiet and lets the girls handle it.

“I think that’s a great idea, Mayumi-chan. We should get some of these for Papa so he doesn’t have to keep wearing his old ones.”

“But I don’t know Papa’s size…Maybe Mama knows! We should call Mama, Miki-Nee!”

Tsumiki nods while pulling out her phone, hitting your contact. The phone buzzed once before your voice was heard on the phone. Mayumi decides to talk on everyone’s behalf and ask for Toji’s underwear size. After a bit, Mayumi hands the phone back to Tsumiki and the two of you talk. Once hanging up, it was settled.

“Gumi-Nee, Mama said Papa only wears black and dark blue boxers! And also said Papa is a size large!”

Since he didn’t want his sisters to look awkward, Megumi took it upon himself to take the three packs of boxers and one pack of socks to check out. The socks were a last minute decision but again, practical for someone like Toji. After Tsumiki gave her half of the total to Megumi, he bought them and left with his sisters. After getting home, Megumi decided it would be best if he kept the gift in his room to not raise any suspicions if Toji had any.

“So, did you three buy your Dad his gift?”

Mayumi runs up to you and fervently nods while pointing at the Uniqlo bag Megumi’s holding. Megumi gives you the receipt for tax purposes and so Toji doesn’t see the price for it as he’ll definitely take it. You grinned while looking at the receipt, something Megumi and Tsumiki believe would be akin to playful or mischievous.

“Nice job, you three. Now, go change and clean up a bit for dinner. Your dad will be home soon.”

Speak of the devil, not even five minutes later, the front door is opened and a gruff “I’m home!” can be heard. Toji was already home. Hearing his voice, Mayumi dashed to where he was and was immediately picked up by him. His iconic DILF chuckle and the giggles of your youngest child can be heard getting closer to the kitchen. Something you never get tired of hearing and hope to hear more of every time.

“Glad to hear you had a good day, Princess. Now go with your sister to change and freshen up.”

Mayumi nods before being put down, dashing towards Tsumiki who then holds her hand as she takes her upstairs.

You were finishing cleaning up the dirty dishes when you felt a warm presence on your back.

“How are you doing, Doll? Looks like you got dinner all figured out, didn’t I tell you my food prep made things easier?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the feeling of your husband wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Toji wants to be all over you no matter the hour.

“Yeah yeah, don’t let that ego get higher than it already is…But thank you though, Hon. It cuts down cooking time by a lot. I appreciate it.” You tenderly answered before giving him a simple kiss on the cheek.

Wearing a victor’s smile, Toji pulls away. Crossing his arms with his chest all puffed out as his pride builds up.

“If that’s all that takes for some of your kisses, I’ll keep on doing it. Only for you, Doll. Glad it makes things easier for ya.”

Even though it said because of his pride, there was an undeniable softness on his features many would believe was impossible for him to make. But here he was, doing exactly that like it was any normal day at the Fushiguro household. The fondness he exhibits to you is both a blessing and a honor because you knew you were a part of the few people that bring it out of him.

Smiling back, you mirrored your loving softness on your face as well.

“It does, Toji. Now, go change and shower. I don’t know what Shui and you did today but you smell like outside. I don’t want that in our bed so go upstairs and shower, Hon.”

Toji smirks but nods at your command. Taking himself upstairs to wash away the smell. Dinner goes on as normal. Silent but pleasant as it lets everyone decompress from the day. Toji does the dishes since you cooked dinner and the kiddos clean up the kitchen table. Everyone retires into the night without issue and Toji has his arms wrapped around you as you sleep on top of him.

It was 7:30 A.M. when you heard voices coming from downstairs and the slight clanging of metal. You groggily blinked the sleep from your eyes while feeling the sun brightening up your room. Hearing Toji’s faint and calm breathing, you knew he wasn’t waking up anytime soon. After successfully slipping away from Toji’s grasp, you were able to change into your home clothes before going downstairs. Upon reaching the kitchen, the sight before you was a pleasant surprise.

There was Tsumiki and Megumi, wearing aprons, and using the kitchen while Mayumi was drinking her juice from her sippy cup. Albeit very sleepy but that changes when she hears footsteps and sees you walking in with a warm smile on your face.

“Mama! Gumi-Nii and Miki-Nee are making Papa breakfast! I’m here for moral support!” She excitedly whispers to you as you hold her up.

You look over to see your two eldest working away prepping their Father’s Day breakfast. You hum while inspecting their handy work, peering over their shoulder to see.

“It smells good, you two. Though, I’m surprised you’re able to get up at this time, Megumi. Normally, you would sleep in until another two hours or so.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the rice balls he’s making, but his tone is less irritated and tense compared to most mornings.

“Well, I feel bad for letting Tsumiki do all the work in cooking. So I woke up earlier than normal to help out. Plus, Mayumi woke me up and asked me to help Tsumiki make breakfast because she couldn’t.”

Mayumi’s soft giggles were paired with your own. Softly patting his hair, you offer Megumi a grateful smile.

“I’m happy to know you helped out, Dear. Good to back up your sisters.”

You pat Tsumiki's shoulder comfortingly to not let her lose focus on her cooking.

“Call for me if you two need any help.”

The two nod before you make your way upstairs with Mayumi, making your way to your shared bedroom where your husband is sleeping. Mayumi writhes and squirms in your hold, begging to be let down to wake up her Papa. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she quietly and firmly opens the bedroom door. B-lining towards the bed with you following suit. She climbs up onto the bed and crawls to where Toji was sleeping peacefully. Your youngest stares for a few moments at her Papa before gently pounding his chest.

“Papa…Papa…Wake up!”

After a few tries, Toji stirs a bit before blinking slowly. Toji motions his head to face the culprit that woke him up from his restful sleep. Seeing Toji waking up, Mayumi beams down at him along with you softly smiling at the side of the bed.

“G’morning, Papa! Happy Papa Day!”

“Morning to you too, Little Lady~.”

He takes Mayumi in his arms while steadily sitting up. Her sweet sequels and giggles echo throughout the bedroom as Toji kisses all over her face and tickles her sides. Grinning down at his youngest daughter, he carries it when his eyes meet yours.

“Morning, Beautiful~.”

The morning rasp and gruffness in his voice made you want to scream at the sky while death-gripping the ground below. You desperately thanked any and all divine pantheons for blessing you with such a man. But alas, you couldn’t allow yourself to fold so easily. Especially in front of Toji, knowing you’ll never see the end of his teasing and salacious, but consensual, advances. You just light-heartedly roll your eyes while shaking your head, but your smile never ceases.

“Good Morning to you too, Handsome~. Happy Father’s Day. Breakfast is ready downstairs.”

Toji temporarily sets down Mayumi as you pass him a shirt to wear since he was wearing his gray sweat shorts. He picks up Mayumi again before making his way out and into the kitchen to satiate his morning hunger. Just like you, he reacted with surprise seeing a fully set table before him. But this is Toji we’re talking about. So the most we’ll get out of his reaction is his eyes which went wide.

He was about to ask if you made all the food as you passed by but you tilt your head to the side and he sees Megumi and Tsumiki cleaning up the kitchen.

“They helped you with making breakfast, Doll?”

You shake your head while taking Mayumi in your arms to place her in her chair.

“I didn’t even touch the kitchen this morning. They were in here this whole time.”

Sitting down, it finally clicked with Toji. He just grinned as he took his usual seat at the edge of the table. Once everyone was seated and began eating, so did he. Toji never thought of himself as the sentimental type. But he couldn’t help himself in allowing this particular feeling to wash over him. If he went back in time to tell his younger-self that he’d become a husband and a father of three kids, he most certainly knew his past-self would scoff and think he’s a liar. Toji won’t lie because he has a hard time believing it himself sometimes. Even after almost two decades of being married to you and 15 years of being a father, he’s in awe of how his life ended up to the present day.

Sneaking glance as he eats, he sees his two oldest kids having their usual sibling conversation. 16 and 15 years old, first and second years in high school. It would only be a few years until they would graduate high school.

‘Geez, they’ll be legal adults in less than five years…Fucking shit, man…’

Toji then sneaks glances at you, which he sometimes catches your gaze as well. There was a certain feeling of your smile every time you sent it his way. But it was not until he reminded himself that your particular smile you always gave him was of contentment. But not in a sense of bare minimum, no. Toji knew it came from utter satisfaction and gratification in this domestic life you two shared.

No, the life you two created together for each other.

Watching you interact with your children just fills him with life’s satisfaction. He thought it was impossible for someone like him to experience something like this. But here he is, sitting down eating breakfast with his family in their home on a Sunday morning. Damn, he didn’t blame you for giving him that smile because he gets it.

After eating and cleaning up the table, Megumi said he forgot something in his room and went upstairs to get it. Meanwhile, Toji was reading the morning paper while simultaneously listening to the news that was live on the tv. Mayumi was chilling in Toji’s lap with her Cinnamoroll plushie because she had nothing better to do. Meanwhile, you were teaching Tsumiki how to use the coffee machine and the set up for Toji’s usual.

Once Megumi came back with the familiar Uniqlo bag, everyone shifted their attention to Toji and gathered around him. He looked confused by the sudden change in behavior. Placing his paper down, he suspiciously eyes everyone.

“Okay, something’s up. Did I do something I don't know about?”

You shake your head at him, making it clear he wasn’t in trouble. Mayumi jumps off Toji’s lap, pattering over to Megumi who hands over the bag. She races back to her papa with an eager smile on her face, holding the bag up to him.

“Oh, what’s this, Princess?”

“It’s from Me, Gumi-Nii, and Miki-Nee! We got you a present for Papa Day!”

Feeling both astounded and touched, he takes the bag from her before ruffling her hair. Mayumi lets out a little squeal before running towards Tsumiki who picks her up. The bag was small, specifically eight inches by six inches. But what’s inside filled the bag up to its capacity so Toji was intrigued to see what his kiddos got him. He shakes the bag for good measure, causing Megumi to become impatient.

“Dad, just open it up. I promise you we didn’t put a spider or a cockroach in there. This is your real gift from us.”

The man chuckles out loud, shooting a grin his son’s way which made his impatient grow.

“Alright alright, I hear you, Megs. I was seeing if I could guess what you bought for me. Nothing wrong with checking things out. Reel yourself in kid.”

Megumi groans out causing his sisters and you to giggle at this usual interaction. Eventually, Toji opens the gift and reaches inside. His eyebrows furrowed and pushed themselves together, trying to figure out what he was touching. Suddenly, his brows released themselves from being tensed as he pulled out the three packs of boxers and one pack of socks. It was silent, a little too silent. For a second, Megumi and Tsumiki held their breaths while you anticipated his reaction.

Then, out of nowhere, a hearty laughter filled the kitchen as Toji held them in his hand. Amusement was all he felt looking at the packs in front of him. He let out a content huff, holding up one of the boxer packs.

“Wow, this is how you give gifts. You guys are just like your mama, you all have gifting skills people dream of.”

“Wait, you actually like it, Papa?”

Toji let a bemused look pass over him before it went back to amuse.

“Oh yeah, I sure as hell love it. I keep forgetting to buy some and your mother has been on me for God knows how long about getting new ones. You rascals killed two birds with one stone for me. And socks too? Now that’s being generous to your old man.”

The two were finally able to breathe since they second guessed themselves.

“Happy Father’s Day, Papa!”

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”

Toji gets up to give Megumi and Tsumiki his love squeezes. Tsumiki giggled while Megumi begrudgingly accepted his dad’s affection. Though, he doesn’t resist or push away when his dad hugs him.

As this was happening, you wore a grin that stretched wide with eyes that shone with mischief. Toji catches your expression, fully knowing something is brewing inside.

“Babe, you’re making that face. Spill it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hon~.”

Oh, there’s definitely something now and Toji’s gonna get it out of you.

“Don’t be so coy, (Y/N). You got that grin plastered on your face and eyeing me like that, you got something to say. I see those little gears in your pretty head of yours moving.”

You were trying to hold in your laughter. Key word was try though. The moment you made your thoughts be known will cause endless oxygen-depriving laughter from you. But you needed to say it in full. No stutters, no mistakes, no slang, dead set on getting those words out. You can’t fumble yourself right now.

“I’m just saying, I have been telling you to get new ones for years! Some of your underwear have holes in them! You have to get new ones every five to seven years, Hon!”

He playfully scoffs.

“Doll, just because they’re old doesn’t mean I need to throw them away after a few years. If they can still do their job in covering up my junk, I don’t see why I need to get new ones. I only needed to know one because of you.”

Sighing exasperatedly, you still held your grin and waited for the right moment to strike.

“Hon, you don’t understand. I’m not saying you need to buy new ones after a while! I’m saying some, as in most, of your underwear are worn down to the bone! You have to put them down, Toji!”

“Babe, again, if it still works, it still works. Yeah, some of my underwear have holes in them but they’re still wearable. Not my fault they have holes in them! Plus, I never wear tight-fitted pants, so I don’t get how my underwear chafes when I wear joggers, sweats, and cargo pants!”

Bingo, everything is in position and there’s a clear pathway. You can’t mess this up when you have a clear shot. Crossing your arms still grinning, you stare down your husband.

“Oh but it is, Toji! The reason why you got holes in your underwear is because your balls are rough! If they weren’t, I wouldn’t be breathing down your neck about them. Don’t you even notice when you fold the laundry?”

For a few moments, the silence fell over the Fushiguro house. Toji was bewildered, taken aback by what you said. You were one to never be crass in front of the kids or in general. Thus, this was the closest thing to you being vulgar.

For the teens, they stood still and frozen in place. However, for different reasons. For Tsumiki, she was stunned. Heavily skilled in the art of not being or feeling awkward. She’s not bothered or offended by your words. Rather, she didn't expect you to say something like that when they’re around. She knew it was bound to happen, just not with this conversation and those words. For Megumi, he was straight up flabbergasted. Never in a million years would he hear something like come out of you. Given, you’re known to have sufficient self-control when it comes to speaking in such a manner. Reserving that language for anyone 18 and over, and their dad. Right now, he’s growing frustrated because now he knows what people mean with you and Toji’s marriage has top tier chemistry. Megumi slowly realizes that both his parents are rat bastards and of equal humor. Noting that you were better at keeping it under wraps while his dad bore no filter at all. Meanwhile, Mayumi was just existing and cuddling her plushie. Becoming oblivious to the whole matter as her toddler brain couldn’t comprehend the words being used. But it was a good thing, much to both Megumi and Tsumiki relief.

“Did Mom just—?”

“Say what I think she said…?”

With their minds broken, the two were trying to process what just happened. You said it, made it be known. Something that probably should be said when they’re not present or only with their dad. Thinking about how you said them too: saying them with your chest, locked-in, hyper-focused, 10 toes down on the ground, no stuttering whatsoever. It looked like you were thinking about this for a long time and needed to get it off your chest.

To which you did, and successfully as well.

Just when the teens thought they were in the clear, they were thrown another curb ball. This time, it was from Toji.

“Doll, why are you complaining about them now? You never did beforehand, how do you think I gave you Tsumiki, Megumi, and Mayumi? You took them and everything else. I’m not letting you throw me under the bus like this.”

Silence came back as soon as it left. If the two thought your words were absurd, their dad’s beat it and took your place with his own. Now Megumi’s petrified because he didn’t know what else would come out of either his mom or dad’s mouth. Fearing the embarrassment and possible vulgarity to over take what the two of you said prior. He didn’t want to hear nor wanted to know anymore. Just when he was about to drag his sisters away to leave you and Toji to your own devices, he sensed something that made him stay.

All at once, the silence was broken by you and Toji bursting out in laughter. You were holding onto his shoulders, gasping for more air to put in body but it was futile as you continued laughing even harder. Toji has his arms crossed but his sturdy broad frame shakes as he can’t restrain his uncontrollable laughter. The kids watch on, once again thinking this was finally done.

But the next thing they knew, they felt a gust of air pass by them followed with another. In a turn of events, you were being chased by Toji throughout the Fushiguro Estate. Yet, your laughter and squeals that were accompanied by your husband’s playful threats made it known this was all fun and games for you.

It went on like this for several minutes. Your two teens would’ve cringed but let it pass over when they noticed Toji carrying you over his shoulder from the house towards the large Saucer Magnolia tree in the garden. Plopping himself on the grass with you in his lap, arms wrapped securely around your waist.

“Now, Doll, where’s your present for me? I don’t see it.” Toji says, feigning hurt as he whines fakingly.

You roll your eyes at his performance. Though, instead of a grin, a smile was all that was left. Highlighting the blissful expression you wore.

“I know you, Toji. You just want me to baby and give you all my attention.” You huffed lightly.

“Yeah yeah, but you’re still gonna give it to me. You won’t deny me, Baby.”

Shaking your head, you let yourself be at your husband’s mercy. Indulging himself in your warmth in presence. It was a peaceful moment until you heard a little giggling coming closer. Both of you look up to see Mayumi running this way followed by Megumi and Tsumiki who held a blanket to be laid on.

Toji unravels one arm to catch his youngest and sits her on his free thigh across from you. You never noticed until now how beautiful and relaxed Toji is. While he was known for his laid back personality, you knew it’s from not wasting his energy on matters that don’t concern him. The reality was, Toji used to be tense and rigid. Forcing to stay on guard whilst putting on that lax facade. It wasn’t until he met and married you was when his stiffness and strained body began to disappear from his body. He was relaxing, loosening himself up because of you.

Although your shared life with him wasn’t easy and had its share of hardships, you felt honored Toji allowed himself to rest and find comfort in you. To see him finally have a sense of peacefulness after knowing what he’s been through, you only wish to love, care. and protect him for as long as you’re on this plane of existence.

Seeing how much contentment he has in interacting with his children and you, he was undeniably beautiful and sublime both physically and mentally. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you immerse in the loving family atmosphere you’re grateful to be a part of. Mayumi rambling and talking Toji’s ear off while your husband entertains her. Meanwhile, you watch your two older children talk and spill the gossip in their school lives to each other.

You wallowed in this domestic bliss, savoring it as there will be nothing else like it. You’re not the only one as Toji joins in basking in this domestic bliss as well. He would never say this out loud, but he didn’t think he’d live this long. He thought he’d died young due to his reckless and careless behavior, getting himself into deep shit that would ultimately be his grave. The voice in his mind reminds him that this may be a one time thing, that he’ll never get this in the next life. But he pushes that thought away to deal with it later. For now, he’ll be present here with you as you both happily entertain your little Mayumi and her current interest.

As for Megumi and Tsumiki, they can rest easy knowing they won’t have to hear you or Toji saying those appalling words again anytime soon.

Taglist:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife

Taglist(w/o links):

@szillx @SleppyAnn @g0th1xac1d @kneelarhmstrung

Taglist form Here!

[cl6udias]

AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS P.2

summary: charlie bushnell and reader have a secret relationship that isn’t exactly secret anymore…

warnings: fem reader, fluff, a few curse words, haters hating, possibly bad writing, as always if i forgot any let me know

therealbambi: art is so therapeutic when the world is so chaotic

comments:

diorgoodjohn: WHEN SHES A ARTIST>>>>

user36: not dior simping over y/n

charliebushnellupdates: STOP USUALLY CHARLIES ALREADY IN HER COMMENTS WTF DID YALL DO😔 IF THE RUMORS RUINED THEM ILL RIOT

y/nupdates: your to real

charliebushnellupdates: y/n and charlie update accs unite 🙏

user99: girl y/n basically confirmed the rumors we ain’t ruining anything

leahsavajeffries: I NEED TO SEE THESES IN PERSON

therealbambi: SOON I PROMISE IM TRYING TO FINISH UP A FEW THAN ILL SHOW YOU

user1989: why is no one talking about the photos of y/n and maybe charlie????

y/niswifey: FRR I WAS LOOKING THRU THE COMMENTS AND NO ONE IS AND I WAS CONFUSED

user1989: FR LIKE HUH IM IN SHOCK LIKE WHAT IF MY BF AND MY GF ARE DATING?!?

haterngl: i hope not💀

user1989: GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE NOBODY CARES WHAT YOU THINK

celebupdatess: y/n l/n and charlie bushnell seen at a art event together tonight

comments:

charliebushnellupdates: STOPP HIM HOLDING HER STOP😔 I LOVE THEM EVEN

y/nupdates: CAN THEY ADOPT ME?!? LIKE ILL DO ANYTHING

user69: them just messing around and playing knowing they have paparazzi taking there photos is everything

user99: no because y/n has always been like this with the paparazzi she dont care and i love her for it

hater156: keep him away from y/n please and thank you

haterngl: no keep her away from charlie

user1989: BOTH OF YOU GO AWAY NOBODY GIVES A FUCK WHAT EITHER OF YOU THINK

user13: how long do yall think it will take for one of them to confirm the rumors

user03: is it even technically a rumor atp

user13: nahh but i want one of them to say something

now playing: nobodys business by rihanna

iamcharliebushnell: and it ain’t nobody’s what?!?

comments:

*the comment section has been limited*

therealbambi: AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS !!

diorgoodjohn: FINALLYYY

iamcharliebushnell: i knew you were waiting for this

leahsavajeffries: yall are so cute💗

therealbambi: thank you leah🩷

walkerscobell: LMAO wait yall are dating

leahsavajeffries: walker…you knew this

TAG LIST:

@alexandria-millie (ask me if you want to be tagged in my charlie/luke works)

AUTHORS NOTE: i made this while helping my mom make dinner and now im posting it while eating some tamales 🙏 ALSO CAMILA AND SHAWN PAPARAZZI PHOTOS HAVE BEEN LIFE SAVERS WHEN I COMES TO COUPLE PAPARAZZI PHOTOS

[carowleysposts]

It’s okay to care about things.

These past couple of days i’ve been noticing that a great part of our fandom is being relentlessly shamed for still loving Good Omens and not wanting it to get cancelled, and I thought i’d share my feelings about it, as I myself have been receiving hateful messages and comments because of it.

First and foremost: many people who judge don’t seem to be able to understand the power of fiction. Fiction is the art of translating reality through magical lenses and making it easier to deal with. It’s something that brings people hope, joy, comfort and brings them together even if they’re thousands of miles apart. Fiction is a shoulder to cry on, a portal to escape through and a friend to rely on. Fiction is magic in its own way, and it can (and has!) change the world in countless ways. Whether you have a happy, fulfilled and busy life or you are going through a rough patch, fiction is always there to help you navigate your own journey, and that’s why it means so much to so many people.

Secondly, it’s important that people fully understand that we do not necessarily associate our favorite pieces of fiction with the creators behind them. After JKR and all of the newly outed zionists, it’s becoming more and more clear that art can be appreciated for itself, and not tied to the person who brought it to life. Sometimes, shitty unforgivable people can make incredible things. And, as long as you don’t support or defend these people, it is okay for you to care about things important to you. It’s okay. You aren’t bad for loving something that has brought you comfort and joy.

Besides, there’s a certain power in taking things back. In looking at the person who made it and saying “this is mine now, and you are not going to ruin it for me”. And that is exactly why so many of us want this show to go on. We all want Gaiman fired. He himself has offered to step back because he is not his art and that story isn’t his anymore. It’s ours. Going on without him would only prove that, and it is okay to root for the show to survive after all that has happened. We are human, and humans need fiction. We need our little bit of magic, and that is perfectly okay.

And lastly, I would like to say that I believe in all the allegations. Even if there’s a chance of it being untrue, it’s not in my nature to doubt victims or to take someone’s side blindly just because I think they are good at their jobs. I believe his victims, I want him to pay for his crimes and I would never, ever support him. You can feel both things: despise for him and love for what he’s created alongside Terry Pratchett. You can want both things: for him to go to jail and for the show to go on in spite of him.

It’s okay to feel how you feel, to love what you love and to be vocal about it. It’s okay to advocate for your favorite show, only you know what it means to you and why. If you need to talk, I am here, I see you and I understand.

I promise we’ll be okay. 🩷✨🫶🏻

Edit: this is meant to comfort the people who are dealing with this situation as well, please refrain from commenting negative things, this is one of those “if you want to judge, do it silently” kind of things. It’s okay to stop enjoying things after stuff like that comes out, but it is also okay to still love them and care about them. Thanks! ✨

[ghostlytide]

For Business Only | One

I hope you like it ^^

Vincent Renzi x Fem! Reader----1.6K

MASTERLIST -> Next

Synopsis:

After the whirlwind affair Vincent and you shared years ago, he was sure his goodbye was definitive. A fleeting memory filled with both regret and a peculiar ache that he can’t quite place. But life wishes to scorn him once again when his newest case obliges him to seek out your help. Though this case isn’t the only complicated thing in this strictly professional relationship—not with the way his heart seems to jump at your proximity, or the already familiar tune of your voice. For all the things that had changed, would this mean your story could have a different ending now?

General Tags: Second Chance/Exes to Lovers; Slow Burn; |They were Coworkers; Denial of Feelings; Pining & Longing; Idiots in Love; Eventual Friends (?) with Benefits (?); English isn't my first language so watch out for typos;

It was a late spring night when Vincent said his goodbye to you, so it was only fair that your reencounter would occur in another.

Life played both hommage and karma at him, remembering his words: You may forever hate me, but I promise you that you'll never see me ever again. I've bothered you enough.

That night, he had regained the common sense that had slipped out his grasp since you entered the law firm as an intern; eager to learn from whoever would spare you a glance for something more than to request their thousandth cup of coffee.

Of course, he did.

And how could he not to? When you were so bright and cheerful, all the opposite from those seniors who had seen the worst, to experience who knows how many times the balanced and blind justice's weight to tip at the wrong side. To have to face the client's hopeless expression.

Of course, you'd probably be sheltered from such a dark world at your station once you reached juniorship. But that wasn't the point right now.

Just as it wasn't the point to reminisce. He felt as ashamed as it could be possible while climbing the stairs of the skyscraper, which on the inside was decorated with pieces of steel, glass, and contemporary art that combined perfectly against the simple columns and the frescoes painted in the dome of the main hall.

Vincent shouldn't be overwhelmed by the sight, but he'd never been inside the Building of the Société Générale, white marble walls against a dark mosaic creating a cube to showcase the colorful paintings hung on the walls.

The secretary at the front desk showed him the way to the elevator behind the reception, polished black walls against the metal door as Vincent felt a pull in the pit of his stomach—either for the sudden upward movement or for nervousness, he didn't wish to dwell much on it.

Walking much faster than he wanted to, the secretary passed through an empty, quiet hallway in which Vincent could read a myriad of plaques varying from Accounting Department, all the way to Human Resources.

Finally, she stopped at a door labeled as Banking Associate: Cultural Department. Calling your name, she said: "Monsieur Favrè has sent his lawyer impromptu to meet you."

A muffled voice—your muffled voice echoed in the still hallway, stirring old memories inside of him he wasn't aware of keeping in the first place. "Alright. Let him come in."

A simple nod and the woman was gone. It was only the two of you now.

He took his time, a skipping beat. At the same time, you finished writing away at your keyboard. Then the door was closed with a gentle click.

"Monsieur Delaroux, what can I do for y—" A tentative pause, your bright, smart eyes locked into his. "Vincent?"

This hadn't been the deal planned out in his mind; he was almost hoping you'd ask, with a puzzled voice, who he was as if memory could morph at will rather than being one's source of torture.

So many years passed since he heard his name coming out of your soft lips, that if he remembered quite well, would taste like mocca and vanilla. But why was he remembering that now, from all times?

"Hello," he said, an awkward smile shining in the well-lit office. He put one of his hands inside the pocket of his dress pants, suppressing the childish urge to wave.

You blinked. "What… what are you doing here?"

"I know this isn't what we agreed on," he started, using small steps to get closer to the desk, as if you were a deer likely to run off, or a lion ready to pounce. Vincent had no idea which of the two could be worse. "But I need your assistance for a case. You're the most capable person I can think of, so I had to come and ask for your help."

Reclining from your seat, he let the words simmer into you, using the little time he had to look around your office, part of him was curious to see if he could still recognize a glimpse of the old you, and what he could learn from the present.

"How did you find me?" you asked, hands gesturing from him to sit in front of your desk.

"There are not many art lawyers with your name," he said, slightly flustered he had to admit about searching your name among colleagues, prying into your life when his promise was all the contrary. It wasn't the first time he felt like a fool, yet prideful because he was here for work.

And solely for work.

"I have a case linked with a small private art collection." His voice was plain, devoid of any emotion. He wasn't Vincent right now, the man that tried not to break your heart but failed terribly; he was Maître Renzi one of the talented lawyers from the before small law firm that now was rising like smoke after every case taken. "A murder. Probably linked to the growing art stock. I need an expert in the subject to conduct the required procedures."

"Since when do you take cases about private art collectors?" you hummed, eyes almost twinkling with amusement from all those times he had shit on the upper class and their slippery ways around the judicial system.

It was a good sign that you weren't bringing up his words last spoken, the past that at this moment felt too much aflush despite the time trying to bury it.

"This one is an exception." He couldn't help but get defensive, feeling like a stupid teenage boy being teased despite you being quite some years younger than him. "The owner of the law firm assigned me this case directly. We need to win so the firm can have an expansion." Which meant more law specialties, and more hired lawyers. And then it was… "They're even considering putting an Art Law department."

You could join, he almost said foolishly. Why would you like to be coworkers with him again, when that exact professional relationship prompted all the rest?

You seemed to be thinking the same. "It'll pay well," he added before you could say anything that derailed from his sketched conversation. "And it can help with your curriculum." Vincent signaled to the plaque in front of your computer, reading Junior Consultant. "It could be the case that turns you into a Senior."

There it was the ghost of you, biting your bottom lip in a pondering manner while your gaze was glued to the empty seat next to him.

"What makes you think you're going to win?"

"Have some faith in me, will you?" He chuckled, though deep inside he knew what you meant. It was a question that always lingered at the bottom of his mind, the one that stole his sleep some nights.

"Vincent—"

"Trust me. This is a high-profile case, very important for all people involved. I need your help. I know you're the only person that can help me." He couldn't make another empty promise. To never see you again? Vincent just broke it, and the opposite of that, to be partnered with you as colleagues didn't sound appropriate either. "You're the only one I can trust to remain on my side even if everything goes to shit," Vincent muttered after a while, blue eyes searching for yours as he tried to convince you with pity, even. Because you could never say no to him, and because this case was obliged to use all the desperate, creative measures he could think of.

Though Vincent wasn't lying about said statement. And you knew it.

You looked at him in a long, silent gaze that felt strangely, annoyingly charged inside the medium-sized office, silent so thick he heard the moment you chortled, a breathy, contained laugh that blessed him with the tiniest of smiles.

"Send me the generalities of the case so I can give it a glance tomorrow and write the protocol to follow."

"If tomorrow is one of your free days, we can discuss it over lunch," Vincent found himself saying before his brain could tell him to do better. "I'll give you a printed copy of everything so you can revise it easier. I apologize, but due to the nature of this case, I don't find myself comfortable with sharing this information via remote."

You put away the pencil you were playing with, settling it against the wooden desk with a thunk. "Breakfast. Tomorrow at 9 AM meet me at the Fontaine Saint-Sulpice. We can go to a nearby café once there." Looking from your computer to him, you arched an eyebrow. "Something else you need? You should go before the receptionist notices that you aren't Monsieur Favrè's lawyer."

He shrugged. "I showed her my card, she didn't say anything."

"Well, I'm not allowed to take private clients while on my shift."

"I'm not a client, we're colleagues."

You gestured away. "Wording. You know what I mean."

"You're a lawyer, Mademoiselle, wording matters."

"I write contracts and track art exhibits, Vincent," you told him in a familiar tone he recognized from when you two engaged in a well-needed, unwinding banter. "The one asked to give speeches is you, not me."

"Well, then you better prepare for an exception, because you will have to declare at court about your findings." Vincent heard your sigh and took in the sight of your angry pout, one you dedicated at him when it was time to get out of his office and help other junior lawyers while on your time as an intern. He was surprised to find it as charming as it once was. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

He stood up, torn between walking facing you or just striding toward the door. He did the last one, turning to smile at you while his hand tapped to feel the door's handle.

It was his time to call your name. "Thank you. Truly."

You nodded, one of the locks of your hair falling toward your brow, obscuring your view. "I'll see you tomorrow, Vincent."

[applesaucesims]

His heart was beating in his chest as if it was trying to run away from him, as Louis joined warmup with the rest of the first-year ballet students. Some of the other kids were already stretching their muscles, while others were practicing some exercises at the barre, and then some were simply talking and waiting for the teacher to arrive.

Said teacher announced her arrival with the clicking of her heels on the polished floorboards and a loud tapping of her walking stick as she stood in the middle of the room. The students quickly walked to form a line in front of the barre, facing their teacher who introduced herself as Miss Lambert.

As Louis stood there, listening to the teacher's introduction of the academy, his nerves were not going down at all. He had been taking children's ballet classes for some time now, but he was not sure whether it was enough to truly meet the skillset expected from him. Looking over at the other children lined up next to him who seemed to already know what the next steps would be, he could not help but feel a bit lost. He knew he wanted to dance more than anything in his life, but was it really what he was cut out for?

Though he tried pushing his worries deep down, it seemed obvious to him throughout the rest of the day that he was far below everyone else's level. Whether it was just his mind telling him that, remained to be seen.

[TRANSCRIPT]

*indistinct chatter* *tired student noises*

*click click*

*tap tap*

Miss Lambert: "Good morning, new students! Please stand and form a line."

Miss Lambert: "My name is Miss Lambert and I'm one of the dance teachers at this academy."

*shuffle shuffle shuffle*

Miss Lambert: "You'll have most of your classes with me, particularly the girls. At those times, the boys will be with Mr. Booth, whom you'll meet tomorrow."

Miss Lambert: "You'll be learning your academia here, too, of course. But we all know that's not what you're really here for. You're here to dance! And I'm here to show you how."

Miss Lambert: "Since, you've made it to the academy, I'm sure you already know the basics. I expect you to know a bit more than that, actually. I'm aware your current skills will be at different levels. But here's where we'll truly see who's got the most talent and discipline!"

Erin Branch

- grew up on a small farm

- practiced dancing with the farm animals since age four

- made it here with talent alone - and a scholarship

César Roques

- from a long line of dancers and choreographers

- pretty much born dancing

- trained with some of the most famous names in ballet

Rozaliya Fortova

- daughter to a couple of successful travelling dancers

- speaks five languages

- visted ballets in every country she's been to

Kavi Gupta

- a boy of many talents

- supposed to take over the Gupta Shipping Co.

- his parents still think dancing is just a hobby - though they do support it

Sophie Welles

- middle child of five of a wealthy automobile business owner

- taught dance and other arts by the family's nannies

- her two older sisters are already academy alumni

Zachary Turner

- lives with his aunt and practices with her daily

- disowned by his lawyer father for choosing dance

- dad's still waiting for him to "come to his senses"

Celine Walton

- top of her children's ballet class three years in a row

- daughter to the mayor of Brindleton Bay

- used to always getting what she wants and being the best

Louis McGregor

- newest at dancing of the whole class

- still wondering if he would have made it without his father's fame

- has no idea what he would do if dancing does not work out

Miss Lambert: "Well? Let's get on then!"

Miss Renée Lambert

- head ballet teacher at the academy

- had a promising career as a prima ballerina herself, until it was foiled by an ankle injury

[hopefull-mindset]

Design Analysis: Kouyou Ozaki

Have you ever wondered why everyone has assumed Kouyou to be a courtesan or brothel owner when there has been no specification in the main series?

First, there is the fact she refers to herself using “wacchi” (わっち), a pronoun that had been used by Geisha and Oiran alike in the Edo Period. Second is that, while she doesn’t have as many layers or hair ornaments, her large Obi is still tied at the front, and wears a Uchikake over her kimono. An Uchikake by itself is not an indicator, but I would think she has it to accentuate what she’s meant to resemble.

An Oiran is a general term for a high-ranking courtesan who has taken up some traditional arts and refined in their entertainment skills, putting them above the common prostitute. The term “Oiran” (花魁) means “flower leader”. It was said to be used by Kamuro and Shinzo to refer to the older courtesans and eventually became their title. It is theorized to come from the phrase "oira no tokoro no nēsan" (おいらの所の姉さん), but there is no exact and official origin of why they’re referred to as such.

They are exclusive because of their price ranges and the highest ranking had a degree of choice in who they had in their company. They get confused with Geisha often because of their similar skill sets and when you don’t know what you’re looking for visually, but in addition, this is mostly the fault of the Occupation of Japan with many coupling both of them into what they’d call “Geesha Girls” and mistaking Geishas for prostitutes. Many even called themselves a Geisha to bring in business, but Geisha’s legally couldn’t promote sex (that didn’t stop them though sometimes if they needed the cash). They are not distinctive only because one of them can practice sex work and the other cannot. Besides my previous comments on accessories, layering, and their distinctive Obi, Oirans have more extravagant coloring and designs on their clothing.

Not to be confused with the Tayū, whom Oiran had taken after in their clothing. Tayū are not as relevant in pop culture, so do not worry about trying to tell the difference in fictional media because they’re 100% going to be an Oiran unless specified. If you would like to learn more about Tayū and not look at confusing wiki pages, I recommend reading these: Karyukai Workers and Roles, The Look of Oiran Versus Tayuu, and this nice video about a modern day Tayū.

While Shinzo are the new debuting girls late into their training, a stage before that is the Kamuro. Kamuro are young girls sold by their parents to either pay off debts or have fewer mouths to feed, and some were even born into it. On the surface, the deal of their daughter becoming someone so luxurious was desirable and made it easier for them to give her away, but not all of them got that life and had to fight for that position. Kamuro were put under the care of senior courtesans who would teach them the skills they’d need while Kamuro did their chores for them. Kamuro were also considered a social marker of how rich the courtesan was to be able to provide for these girls, but they were limited to only caring for two. It was an exploitative and abusive industry that groomed them into this life. These girls can’t leave because they’re stuck to a never-ending contract that they need to pay off in their work because of the costs of their living, so competition for the top spot wasn’t only for the idealized life promised, but to get a higher paying customer to pay off their contract to escape.

Kouyou’s backstory is heart-wrenching in this context. We don’t have details of how she ended up there or the rest of what happened, but you can’t deny the resemblance between the life of a young girl in the red light district trying to escape her conditions with a man who has promised her freedom and Kouyou wanting to live in the light outside of the Port Mafia’s unlivable darkness with someone who wanted to show her that. Along the same lines, Kyouka can be seen as a Kamuro that Kouyou has taken under her wing and wanted to leave herself. Granted, using sexual favors is manipulation 101 and she could’ve learned this anywhere, but it would make sense if she had learned this from Kouyou as a courtesan. Kamuro weren’t ignorant of what their “Older Sisters” did.

There are many differences between the life of these girls and the bloody one Kouyou had lived in the Port Mafia, and it’s not as if I’m implying she had lived the life they did as we don’t know much, but the similarities can’t be just coincidence. As for “brothel owner”, the Yakuza unsurprisingly stick their nose into the sex work business, so it wouldn’t be too hard to assume Kouyou was looking over these things.

Side comment: “Ane-san” is old-fashioned, so the only time you’ll see it be used instead of just “Ane” or “Onee-san” is in a historical context, or with the Yakuza to refer to the upper echelon female members.

(I refuse to use something not from mayoi, bones art… is ugly)

Kouyou’s crimson hair comes from her name “紅葉”, which can be translated to “Red (Autumn) Leaf”, or roughly “Crimson Blade”. It’s referred to as crimson in the light novels, but we all want to call it deep pink. Either way, both colors are deep-seated in love and she wears it all over. Her uchikake starts light at the top and deepens the lush cherry blossom pink into a bloody red where it drags at the floor with trailing bellflowers (or some type of thin petaled bellflower). Her inner kimono is pure black, except at her shoulder where only a piece of pink is left, and at the bottom are prominent red spider lilies. Their color is emphasized with a transitioning dark shade of purple.

Red spider lilies are infamous because of their connotation with death, but there’s more to it. They’re considered “hell flowers” and could lead the dead to reincarnation. Used in funerals, legends say that seeing someone you will never meet again will have these flowers bloom in your path. They’re flowers that bloom in autumn and the meanings they have are: painful memories, abandonment, passion, independence, giving up, longing, and “never to meet again”.

Kouyou is a mournful soul whose past has never left her, especially in the face of confronting Kyouka’s choice. For these flowers to appear in the inner darkness of her design is significant to how deeply his death had affected her, but also the abandonment of what she regards as her “born nature”. That man had wanted to show her light but had only contributed to the growing darkness that she wasn’t allowed to escape. She had died that day with him, and could only keep walking in the flower field of death she had created. It’s only the piece of light on her shoulder that is left of her past self.

Now, the bellflowers on her uchikake can mean: Loyalty, gratitude, faithful, unchanging, honesty, and discipline.

If the Port Mafia had once been a place of terror and misery, then Mori had changed that for her and made the Port Mafia her home. She is forever grateful for what he has done to make this life livable again and dawns this flower gracefully with light colors. She chooses to wear these light colors over her kimono because even if she resents the hypocrisy of the people who can live in the light without criticism, she still wants some semblance of that dream after her soul has been blackened to that gain. Harukawa, when designing these characters, keeps in mind what organization and type of person they are when color coding them. It’s also with the understanding of what shades will appear darker and lighter in the manga style. Harukawa says that she made sure to give Kouyou light colors and kept her eye from being dark to signify that she’s a good person.

In the manga, her outfit is slightly different from the anime’s design. Her uchikake is paler and does not have any flowers on it, and the flowers on her kimono are much more... vague, so if there are better candidates than my guesses, then be my guest and throw me a bone. From the silhouettes, I will assume that the largest visible flower is a water lily and/or lotus and the flowers growing on the branches are sakura blossoms and/or plum blossoms. It’s fitting considering she is introduced with sakura blossoms falling around her, but they could be plum blossoms too as “花魁” can refer to them in some cases.

Water lilies and Lotus flowers are very recognizable, and I’m sure most of you have seen them around. Their meaning of “purity of heart” comes from how wild water lilies will usually be white. Similarly, lotus flowers are seen as pure because they can bloom in mud without staining themselves. Other meanings water lilies are given are: Rebirth, trust, faith, and kindness. With lotus flowers, they are: Rebirth (again), “to change someone’s mind”, “eases suffering (of the heart)”, and resilience.

Ignoring the meaning of faith and trust since we had already gone over it with the bellflowers, both possible flowers emphasize her good nature and the renewal of life that Mori had blessed her with. Mori had eased the mindless suffering caused by the old boss and changed her mind about what the Port Mafia was to her. She pushed through the muddy waters of the old boss’s darkness and stood her place well in her strength.

Sakura blossoms and plum blossoms introduce two different meanings in their symbolic usage. Plum blossoms bloom in the winter cold in the signal of spring coming, showing the prosperity of life in the hardest of conditions, while sakura blossoms remind us of life’s impermanence and that its beauty can only last for so long. Plum blossoms also can mean: elegance, nobleness, patience, loyalty, hope, and renewal. If these are Sakura blossoms, then they can mean: renewal (again), violence, and hope (again).

In the context of these flowers appearing on her kimono, they mean something different than the renewal of a new era Mori had brought. The remark at the beginning of chapter 17 gives us a personal meaning for Kouyou to what sakura flowers are to her. They are the blooming hope of a girl’s wishes, but they eventually have to drop not long after growing up and facing their reality. Remaining a bud is impossible, so Kouyou, in defiance of this eventual fate of this girl, sees slashing the girl’s heart to be more merciful than the long, doomed drop they all have to face. Kouyou is a bloomed Sakura flower who has already dropped, and her change had started there, not when she bloomed. Even if a part of her had died, she still clings with no real hope.

This is the only image we have of her kimono without anything covering it. This is right at the end of the Guild Arc where they are celebrating their accomplishment. Kouyou sheds her outer bright colors because there is no room for that in this setting and trusts Chuuya and Mori enough to shed any pretenses. They’ve all dressed casually, so she would too. The leaves are meant to be red maple leaves that also show up in the flashback of Kouyou of you look carefully. As I’ve said before, these have to do with her name. The vague firework-like design that shows up are either enlarged spider lilies or chrysanthemum flowers. Assuming these are the white kind, they mean: truth, loyal love, admiration, and sincere heart. However, the yellow kind can mean “slighted love”.

She is sincere inside and out, even if some of that sincerity isn't as pretty as what it looks like from a distance. “A flower that blooms in the dark can only survive within the dark” is a sentiment she lives by after all. If it is a yellow chrysanthemum, then its meaning is what you’d expect from her lonely heart.

Bonus round

Welcome if you have read this far, this is where I stray from her main outfit and talk about outfits that only appear once. This first kimono is what she wore when staying put in the Armed Detective Agency’s capture so that Kyouka would be able to live out a dream she can’t bring herself to live out. The white kimono is covered with columbine flowers. They can mean: risk-taking, good fortune, faith, folly, hope, and specifically for white columbines, “I’m concerned for this person”. Negative/inverse meanings include: The emblem of deceived lovers, ingratitude, and faithlessness.

What this means in Kouyou’s overall situation shouldn’t be too mind-boggling. She is in this room for Kyouka’s sake and is fairly concerned about how this plan of many risks will play out, but has faith in Dazai’s abilities. She is her most stripped version of herself and works with good intentions with Dazai under this idea, so she only wears light. Kouyou though is only left to her thoughts, her own past in that room. She is glad for Kyouka, but it only leaves fear that Atsushi won't be able to live up to something he promised so she ensures that he is committed to helping her into the light and strong in a way that man wasn't able to be. 

The second one is from the chapter art with Kouyou and Mori leading Soukoku away from each other. It’s an outfit that reflects her mindset during her time with the old boss, an inverted palette from what she’s currently wearing. She hasn’t fully embraced her environment yet. Unfortunately, almost all of the flowers and plants are a bit too vague for me to point out. There is only one flower I think I recognize on her right sleeve that looks like a bird, and it is called an Egret Orchid. The only meaning of significance here is: “I think of you even in my dreams.” Some sources will say, “My thoughts will follow you into your dreams”, but I think this made more sense in this context.

This sentiment is regarding that man who had told her such an innocent lie. She not only hid her sorrowful, pure yet broken heart inside the guise of flowering darkness but weaponized this sorrow in her violence and climbed the ranks of the Port Mafia. He is a source of regret, hate, and sadness. He is her only semblance of what hope and love could resemble, and it has become a corrupted and negative thing to her in his death. Pure darkness is the only thing can trust for people like her… but she still ponders what that life will be. His influence had never left her, whether it was for better or worse. 

—

Alright um

I don’t typically do analysis like this as I don’t find clothing all that interesting to look into, but there is merit to thinking about what a character is wearing even on a surface level. It can be a show of their social rank, their job, their interests, their personalties, their culture, etc. but there isn’t always a deeper meaning to their clothing on a theming sense and I can’t find it in me to usually be interested in doing it myself. In most media, the clothing only indicates the era the characters are from and how marketable they can be.

Luckily, BSD is one of those stories that do put heavy consideration on what the characters are wearing and how their clothing changes overtime for some. Obvious examples include Harukawa’s color pallet consideration to indicate what type of person they are and what organization they are from, Dazai’s clothing swap when he leaves the Port Mafia, Chuuya’s many outfits as show of his growth in belonging to the Port Mafia, the coat passed down from Mori to Dazai to Akutagawa, and the Yin-Yang coloring of Atsushi and Akutagawa that stays consistent even in Beast where they swap.

When doing clothing analysis you’re almost expected to overanalyze and stray into your own interpretations of what certain things mean, when sometimes there isn’t any intended meaning. None of that is a bad thing though! You don’t have to rely on an author or artistic word to analyze a thing, but I tend to have a hard time with just making claims like that. So I picked this concept for Kouyou because I have my own ideas for the thought process behind her design that felt right and find it intriguing enough to share. I had actually asked a friend if I could take her from their hands since they had been planning to do their own clothing analysis, but got stuck. So thank you for letting me steal it!

I’m not a historian or whatever, but I do like sharing what I do know about certain topics! Unexpectedly, this took more out of me than I thought. I’ve written more in a shorter time, but I got stuck with having to write about one certain topic than the character entirely. I will probably never do something like this again, at least not with flower meanings. Who knew how much work it was to actually explain what they mean in context in such a big bunch?

The day I finish that Odasaku analysis is when I’ll read The Golden Demon.

[ghaniblue]

HD wireless recs: weeks 3, 4 & 5

I won't be able to read all Wireless fics until reveals, but I wanted to post at least one more reclist for the creations that I did manage to read/look at/listen to and enjoyed from weeks 3, 4 & 5. ❤️ means favourite. -- creators added after reveals.

>>Recs from weeks 1 & 2 <<

👻 Antelucan Ruins (E, 29k) by @rainjulyx

From the bloody Prophet, Draco discovers Harry Potter’s death splashed in grey ink printed on the front page. Potter is dead before Draco gets to see him again to fulfil a half-spoken promise. And yet, these days Draco has the power to bend the world to his heart’s desires, and that includes fucking Harry Potter even after he personally saw Potter’s pale, lifeless body lying in a coffin before it got buried under the soil.

"Do you realise that you're just as pathetic and insane? You're so hung up on the idea of me that you'd fuck a ghost, Malfoy. You risked your life for it."

Draco puts an arm around Potter's body, "Whoever says I am sane? Certainly not me. It's calculated risk with more success rate than failure. And you are dead, Potter. You refuse to move on to the next realm because you crave for my cock."

I love it when the are unhinged for each other. Not even death can do them part.

❤️🏡 A Quiet Life (T, digital art) by @getawayfox

After their relationship becomes public knowledge; after being hounded by the paparazzi; after Draco says enough is enough and leaves London; Harry’s more than happy to follow.

After all, a quiet life is all he’s ever wanted.

This Draco is so very pretty. Love the casually intimate pose.

👬 The Shape I found you in (not rated, digital art) by @veneficusposts

But your heart was busy within,

Building bomb shelters under your skin.

That's the shape I found you in

The character design is so cute.

❤️🍻 Closing Time (E, 18k) by @sweet-s0rr0w

Draco’s been invited to Neville’s stag party in Bristol, and he's confident he knows what to expect. There’ll be too many Gryffindors, for starters, plus a few humiliating team-building activities, some dodgy clubs, and a truly preposterous level of alcohol consumption. But… a drunken Harry Potter climbing into Draco's bed when he’s having a wank? No, he definitely didn't see that coming…

Such easy prose; effortlessly funny, lovely Drarry sexual tension, and a great Ron, too.

🗞 crawlin' helpless on the floor (M, 1,5k) by @stationintern

It doesn't take much to torment a man when he's three broken contracts away from being out of a job and down a newspaper.

Such a lovely little atmospheric piece; sparse but creates such a mood.

💪 Too Good At Raising Hell (E, 87k) by @the-sinking-ship

When Harry Potter walks into Draco’s nightclub looking like trouble, Draco can’t stop staring. He really ought to train his dick not to react so enthusiastically to red flags, but where would be the fun in that?

This is just fun. There's clubbing, underground fighting, criminal shenanigans and quite a bit of sex.

🏏 Say When (E, 23k) by @lqtraintracks

When Auror Harry Potter is sent in undercover to determine if Draco Malfoy is laundering money through his BDSM club, will he be able to keep up the ruse and close the case? Or, more to the point, will he keep from falling in love?

I haven't read 'undercover at sex club' in ages. Soft Dom!Draco & sub!Harry, and their mutual inability to keep it professional are a great combo.

😴 Perpetual Motion, Perpetual Sound (E, 51k) by @dodgerkedavra

Harry Potter can’t sleep.

This fic surprised me. I thought it was one thing, and then it went in an entirely different direction when the plot kicked in.

🏘 Two Houses (E, 11k) by @tackytigerfic

Two households, both alike in... meddling Floo connections, apparently?

Draco Malfoy is a highly professional and well-respected Ministry official, with a demanding schedule, a loving son, and—through no fault of his own—a faulty Floo connection that keeps regurgitating the Minister for Magic through his fireplace.

Love older Drarry and meddling houses. Made me smile.

🇫🇷 A Case of You by epitomereally - a Podfic (E, ~12h) read by @cailynwrites

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down.

Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.

I didn't finish the whole podfic yet (12h!), but I like the narrator and what I did manage already was lovely and very easy to listen to.

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 2

Holy shit, guys. I have never had such a response to a story before. Thank you guys so much.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1

*

The next morning Eddie got up for school excited for the first time. He had a mystery to solve and his name was Steven Harrington. Probably the third or whatever shit rich people got to with naming their kids. He rummaged through his closet looking for his favorite band tee. But he stopped when he found an old shoe box down at the bottom.

Eddie frowned and pulled it out. It was a bunch of pictures of Eddie when he first came to live with his uncle, Wayne. He looked at the shaved head and bruised face.

His dad had taken one look at Eddie that morning and decided his hair was too long. He had grabbed Eddie by the hair and dragged him into the bathroom and shaved his head. The bruises to the face were from Eddie trying to escape.

Eddie had suffered a concussion and it was then the state had taken notice. They had packed up his stuff while he was in the hospital in a big black garbage bag and told him he would be going home to his Uncle Wayne. In Indiana. So far from the life he knew. But it meant being safe from his dad and that was a plus in Eddie’s book.

It’s how he knew what Steve was going through. Maybe not exactly the same. But he knew concussions and knew they were a bad business.

He put the pictures back in the box and tucked it under his bed. Maybe he didn’t need to know why Steve was hurting. Maybe it was enough to understand. He pulled on his second favorite band tee and his jacket. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

*

Eddie bit his lip. He didn’t have any classes with Steve today and wasn’t able to check up on him. He was tempted to break into the office and pull Steve’s schedule. But that would get him detention and he was still trying to keep his promise to his uncle.

How was he going to do this?

And then the answer literally dropped in his lap. A book was thrown at him by someone. He picked it up and looked at the cover. It was some old homework journal was about to throw it away when a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Frowning he picked it up. By some miracle it was Steve’s schedule. He looked up to see if he could see who threw it at him. But it could have been anyone. A lot of people were avoiding his eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. They bought from him and now they can’t look him in the eye because he knows. They want to buy weed and don’t know how to broach it. They think he’s a freak. They have a crush on him. You know, the possibilities were endless.

But at least he knew things he didn’t before. Like holy hell, the kid did a lot of sports. He looked at baseball and swimming and basketball with his mind whirling around in his head. How did he keep all the rules straight?

Math third period Eddie knew. History was Steve’s first period. Which was probably how his messed up brain managed to spew that information at Eddie yesterday. Baseball was seventh. Basketball his eighth. Swimming was second. English fourth. Art was sixth. Art, huh? That was intriguing. Probably thought it was an easy elective. And chemistry was fifth. So it looked something like this.

Odd 1-History 3- Math 5- Chemistry lunch 7- Baseball

Even 2-Swimming 4-English 6-Art lunch 8-Basketball

Huh. Eddie never noticed, but Steve was always in his lunch period. That was certainly interesting. He wondered what Mrs Hall, the guidance counselor would do about all his sports now that he couldn’t play anymore. He supposed swimming was still fine, nothing to hit you in that. But baseball and basketball were definitely out.

Eddie chewed on his lip. The sports weren’t going to get Eddie closer to finding out what happened to Steve. They would close ranks so fast. At least Steve and him had lunch together so that would at least make it easier befriend the guy.

Art, though. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had art in his fifth period. He could doing some snooping there. After all art is where true expression lies. And if there was anything going on it would show in his art.

The start of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. Yeah. This could work.

*

At lunch, Eddie slid in next to Steve as soon as he sat down.

“What’s on the menu today, Harrington?” he asked grinning.

Steve looked up at him in shock again. “Um...applesauce and plain toast, with a can of ginger ale.”

Eddie winced. “Still feeling the nausea?”

Steve nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going away.”

“It’ll stick around for about a week,” Eddie said softly.

Steve frowned. “How would you know that?”

“How don’t you know that?” Eddie fired back. “This is your second concussion.”

“Didn’t go to the doctor either time,” Steve mumbled.

“You want to run that past me again, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Doctors mean having to call my parents,” Steve explained, “calling my parents means that they’ll have to come back from their trip, coming back from their trip means I get into trouble, getting into trouble is not good for a concussion, so I don’t.”

“Why would you get into trouble for having a concussion?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

Steve started counting it out on his fingers. “Getting into a fight. Hanging out with black people and by extension, siding with said black person. Having to drop out of sports. Watching my grades plummet. Not speaking to Tommy and Carol. I can keep going if you’d like...”

Eddie shook his head. “Holy shit, dude. I didn’t think I’d see a shittier dad then my own, but yours and your mom take the cake.”

Steve looked down at his applesauce mournfully. “It’s not that bad. At least my dad doesn’t hit me like Tommy’s dad does.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “Are all rich dads douchebags?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look, I’ve got to eat my own lunch,” Eddie said slapping the table and standing up, “but if you need anything come find me.”

Steve nodded, but Eddie didn’t think he would take him up on it.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites

[witchyafterdark]

— Sebastian Sallow Headcanons; pt. 1

[None of the images belong to me! All credits to the owners and editors of these images!]

During 6th year, he tried his best to do good throughout the school year, and distract himself from the remnants of the Dark Arts' hold on him. Instead of giving into the temptation of the call to research more about the forbidden spells, he instead busied himself helping people with their academics.

He helps MC most of all, scheduling a constant time and day for tutorials about all the lessons they might have missed out on, in spite of their Field Guide. (And yes, he also gifted Ominis with Braille-engraved ingredient bottles for Potions class).

He extends this help towards underclass students, mostly Slytherin ones... cause you know, he still has that House Cup competitive streak in him.

Bonus: When he's in the library to study and tutor others, he usually leaves his blazer and robes back at the dorms to be more comfortable and laidback. He also started to wear reading glasses more frequently than before, and uses it to push back his messy waves when he doesn't need it. That's when he started to wonder why there seems to be more students, mostly girls, asking for his tutorial and academic assistance all the time. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

⭆⭆⭆

In the midst of Victorian standards of propriety and social decorum between men and women, Sebastian is actually quite well-versed in taking care of women in his life. When it was socially acceptable for men to opt out of "womanly discussions," Sebastian knows more than the average man, thanks to having been attuned to his twin all his life.

He was literally there when Anne was hunched over her food, in pain, at the Great Hall during their 2nd year. After almost carrying her all the way to the Hospital Wing, he demanded to know what was going on with her... until Nurse Blainey told him she started to have her monthly bleeding.

Instead of shying away from the topic, he took it upon himself to research in the library all there is about women's health and anatomy. When he didn't find what he was looking for, that's when he started to sneak into the restricted section for more information than what was available!

Best believe he was by Anne's side the next morning with a handful of chocolates, sweets, and a pair of enchanted warm, fuzzy socks to ease her period pains. This boy is not afraid of hush-hush women problems. He might even go down to the kitchens to make Anne her favorite soup to keep her warm, full, and cozy for bed.

(Will be the best girl dad)

⭆⭆⭆

I firmly believe that Sebastian would eventually stumble upon the cure for Anne as an adult.

Right after graduating from Hogwarts, he would most likely become a curse breaker; not only because it suits him, but he has a restless and tumultuous relationship with himself. Being buried in work while being in foreign lands serve as a good distraction for him. Sitting too long by himself doing nothing can make him ruminate about his past, and that's no good.

If Anne is still alive by the time he finds her cure, he would most certainly try his best to rekindle a connection with her, finding wherever she currently resides. He might even beg Ominis to tell him where she is, promising that his findings are backed up by other curse breakers or whatnot (even if that may not exactly be true), just so he'd be told of Anne's whereabouts.

Understandably, Anne would be extremely wary of all of this. But Sebastian can be extremely persuasive, and would have to be completely transparent with her about all of the information he found. He will get his sister back, and that was a promise he made to himself all those years ago. He never abandoned that promise.

But if Anne had already passed away, stumbling upon the cure during his work travels would make Sebastian spiral out of control. He will most likely disappear from the face of the earth, and not even Ominis' underground connections will be able to trace him.

Dark wizard and poacher camps can be reported to have been decimated to the ground overnight over a span of months, seamingly by the work of a vigilante. But in reality, Sebastian has been unleashing his rage and anger on those people who were like the wizard who cursed his sister. No one can stop him from this moment of grieving. He needs some sort of justice for what happened to Anne, and this is the only way he can think of in the midst of his grief.

Simultaneously, though, he has been collecting illicit and illegal information about all the curses, hexes, rituals, and dark magic he can get his hands on. He needs to know about all of them to be prepared for the worst in the future, however his future might be. This mission of his makes him compile and bind some sort of a tome of all the cures and solutions to the Dark Arts.

This kind of pattern continues of over the course of a couple of years, writing a letter to Ominis and MC every now and then to let them know he's still alive. Once he is quite satisfied and have come to terms with his grief, only then would he reemerge into society.

⭆⭆⭆

On a more lighthearted note, being a curse breaker is something he doesn't actually see himself doing for the rest of his life as he grows older. During his youth, he reveled in his findings and discoveries, taking pride in his abilities to be quick on his feet in perilous situations. Like most young men, he will maximize the years of his prime, traveling to distant lands and seeking opportunities elsewhere.

But as he falls into a groove, he might also feel the effects of the job on himself. Places and faces can get old to him once he realizes that he's no longer the young man he used to be. Weariness slowly seep into his bones, and he would love nothing more at this point than to be embraced into a warm home, and taking life slowly.

He realizes that time waits for no man, and perhaps this all stemmed from seeing Ominis recently. His old friend looking more at peace with himself, calm and contented with his own found family.

This could be the final push for Sebastian to finally hang the coat, and quietly retire from being a curse breaker. And this is where Professor Sallow comes into the picture.

Going back to Hogwarts, now as a teacher, gives him the sense of relief and comfort he didn't know he was yearning for. It's as if he has been holding his breath for so long, and now, he can breathe easy again. He feels safe now, with a renewed sense of purpose.

All of his learnings and discoveries during his prime will most definitely take their place in the familiar shelves of the Hogwarts library. He might even feel nostalgic over the fact the he now has actual unlimited access to the Restricted Section, with some of his books sitting right next to the ones he used to get into trouble for.

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Eight

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None except for like one cuss word

Notes: Hot off the press - I just spent my day packing my house up to move tomorrow and I’m up past midnight to get this out... You guys have been so freaking supportive and I’m excited for this story to pick up!

Word Count: 3158

Series Masterlist

• March 11th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Emotions.” Jasper says by way of greeting, placing his backpack on the picnic table that no doubtibly contains his art supplies.

“Everyone has them, yes?” I reply, my forehead wrinkling in confusion at his peculiar single-word statement.

“I can control them.” He answers, visibly nervous as if he were afraid he just opened a can of worms.

I watch him pull out his well-worn sketchbook and pencils as I decide how to respond to this new bit of information.

“Say something, doll.” Jasper looks almost pleading, worry setting in on his face.

“How does it work?” I question him, I’m in shock that he volunteered such important information in the middle of a school day at lunch as if it were a typical topic to talk about.

“Well, it started off as just being able to sense the emotions of humans and vampires in my vicinity,” he lets out a sigh as he begins shading whatever it is he’s working on. “Then I quickly figured out I can influence them. I can either enhance what someone is already feeling, take away their emotions altogether, or replace them entirely and give them something completely different.”

“W-wow,” I stutter, “that’s honestly impressive.” I raise my eyebrows as his eyes meet mine.

“I can also do small things since I’ve had time to hone my power, like it’s easy to find people I’m familiar with in a crowded area, within a reasonable distance. As long as I can get to know the person, orient myself with their emotions, it’s quite easy.” He glances down at his drawing as he finishes his explanation.

“That has to be rough, feeling everything everyone else is feeling all the time. You can turn it off though, right?” I muse out loud, I can’t imagine having a power that doesn’t come with an ‘off’ switch.

“Unfortunately I can’t, my family is usually pretty good at regulating the intensity of their emotions when we’re gathered at home. At school though… Sitting out here alone with you during lunch is a welcome reprieve.” Jasper turns back to his sketch as he admits that last tidbit of information.

“Do any of your other siblings have super powers like you?” I tease him, not ready to dive into that nugget of information about how spending time with me makes him feel.

“Rosalie and Emmett don’t, neither do Carlisle and Esme. Unless you want to count the staggeringly strong self-control my adoptive father possesses.” Jasper pauses, “Alice can see the future, subjectively though - she has to be searching for that person’s intent and as long as they make a decision, she can see it and the immediate effects. Edward on the other hand, can-“ but he’s interrupted by the bell signaling the end of the lunch period.

“You’re not off the hook now that you’ve enlightened me, I expect to finish this conversation.” I tell him as I stand and meet him on the sidewalk leading towards the school building.

“I would never leave business unfinished with a lady.” He says rather cheekily, trying to get a rise from me, but all it earns him is a huff of a laugh as we walk in a comfortable silence.

“Thank you for sharing that information with me, I promise not to tell anyone.” I vow soberly, meeting his eyes as we stand outside of my next class.

“I was never worried.” Jasper replies, backing away as students finish milling about in the hallway. “See you in History, darlin’.”

I could feel his eyes on me as I stood in front of my open locker, quickly shuffling through the books I needed for my last class of the day. It’s almost like his gaze seemed to burn me alive as I felt it travel across my skin, the hair on the back of my neck rose due to my heightened state of awareness I had towards this gorgeous man. Does he know the effect he has? Is he even aware that I am utterly at his mercy? I hate to fall in line with all the other girls that must throw themselves at his feet, most of them much prettier than I, so why me? Why does he want to take me on a date?

I glance over my shoulder in the direction I know his own locker is in and sure enough, liquid gold is locked onto its target. A steady unwavering gaze stares back, so solid and intense that it constricts my chest for a moment with the pure force of it.

I turn back to my locker and grab a pen before slamming the door shut, the warning bell signaling one minute before everyone still occupying the hallway is tardy. As I turn to hurry my way to History, Jasper has made his way to stand right behind me.

“Do you like baseball?” He blurts out quickly, as if to not lose his nerve.

“It’s probably the only sport I understand, so yeah. Why?” I counter, tilting my head in question.

“My family and I were thinking of playing a game Sunday. Would you like to tag along and spectate? Bella Swan will be there, I’m sure she would love your company.” Jasper tacked on the last part as if I needed more reason to go than just spending time with him.

“As if I could say no to you and your family.” I tell him with a smile.

“Good, so you’ll want to meet them tomorrow?” He asks with more confidence than the last request, slowly taking steps backwards down the empty hall and I gravitate with him.

My mind blanks, not prepared to be sprung with such a big step in… whatever is happening between us. First he tells me he wants to take me out on a date, now I’m meeting his family? Is this some lucky alternate universe where the insanely attractive boy falls for the incredibly average girl?

No-no way, friends bring their friends over to meet their entire family before a family outing, right?

“I-I-uh-“

“Noon tomorrow, they’ll love you.” Disappearing around the corner of the hallway with a smirk in place, probably because I was gaping at him in the middle of an empty hall.

I glance around - an empty hallway! I’m late for class! I can’t even be mad, Jasper Hale has effectively monopolized my weekend and I’m more than happy about it.

• March 11th, 2005 • Home •

Reader

“Hey, mom?” I ask, poking my head in her open bedroom door.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Putting down the book she was reading and pushing up her reading glasses, my mother sits up in bed to give me her full attention.

“So,” I take a seat at the end of her bed, “Jasper Hale invited me to his house tomorrow, to have dinner with his family and just hang out I guess.”

“Oh?” My mother sounds intrigued, eyebrows raising. “A date with a cute boy?”

“Not a date!” I immediately correct her, “it’s just dinner, or whatever.”

She laughs as I pick at her bedspread. “Honey, of course you can go, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well…”

“Well, what?” She questions.

“He also asked if I wanted to play baseball Sunday with his fa-“

“You? Play baseball?” She blurts out, incredulously.

“Mom!” I draw out the word. “He’s invited me to hang out with his family this weekend - you’ll be cool, right? When he picks me up? No interrogating?”

“Me? Interrogate the cute boy stealing my daughter for a weekend? I wouldn’t dream of embarrassing you.” She teases me with a wink.

I stand and begin to leave, “You are insufferable, woman.”

“I love you, sweetheart!” She yells after me as I round the corner to my room. Flopping onto my bed with a smile, I’m both giddy and equally nervous for the next two days.

• March 12th, 2005 • Cullen Residence •

Reader

“This is my adoptive father Carlisle and his wife Esme.” Gesturing to the two beautiful adults patiently waiting in the foyer as we walk in their home.

Thankfully my mom was at work when Jasper picked me up, giving me another day to prepare myself for the potential train wreck of them meeting tomorrow.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen.” I give them a smile as I shake their hands.

“Trust me dear, the pleasure is all ours!” Esme responds excitedly, her smile wide and beaming.

“The others are in the living room, beware of what you’re throwing her into.” Carlisle warns Jasper with a smile.

Throwing me into? I glance up at Jasper with my brows furrowed, a little concerned.

“C’mon, I’ll protect you.” He jokes with me, I must be missing the punchline.

As he leads me to the living room in his house, I gape at the beautiful artwork spaced throughout. “This is gorgeous, Jasper.”

“Esme is pleased you like it.”

Not having heard his mom speak, I turn from where I was ogling a painting that appeared to be ancient. “But she-“

“Can hear you from her study and I can feel her emotions, remember?” He winks at me, show off.

Finally we walk into the space where his siblings are and I realize what Carlisle meant: Mario Kart.

Alice and Emmett are sitting on the edge of the couch, deep in concentration while Rosalie seems bored from her perch in the corner by her significant other.

“You’re fucking cheating!” Emmett bellows, frantically mashing buttons on his controller.

“It’s not cheating if you’re playing someone that sucks.” Alice taunts him, a wicked grin on her face.

“You can see the future Alice, cut him some slack.” Jasper chides his sister as he leads me to an empty section of the couch.

My eyes widen in amusement as I observe the small dark haired girl, “That’s right! You can-“

“See everything I try to do!” Emmett yells, frustration setting in as his character is hit with a shell.

It’s almost laughable, Emmett’s character Bowser and Alice as Princess Peach. I sit down next to Jasper, a few inches between us as I cross my legs and he lays an arm behind me on the back of the couch. I try to keep my breathing even as I sit here, but the excitement to be spending time with him is almost overwhelming.

I watch as Princess Peach zaps the other players into miniature size and Rose reminds Emmett not to throw yet another remote at the ground, when Jasper leans in close.

“Want a tour of the house?” He asks in a whisper, creating goosebumps down my arms.

“Yes.” I respond, probably sounding breathless, but he’s standing and offering his hand before I have the chance to feel embarrassed.

“And this is my room.” His tour coming to an almost close, since I’m still patiently waiting for a peak at all their cars.

I walk in the doorway he pointed to, stopping just inside. My eyes were immediately drawn to the bookshelves lining the wall opposite of the floor-to-ceiling windows that seemed to be a theme throughout the house. His room was much darker than all the others, warm and inviting with the shades of black and dark wood tones. Stepping closer and skirting the immaculately made king size bed, my eyes close in on some familiar titles on the shelves.

“I always see you reading and since I have quite a bit of free time, I thought I’d pick up a few.”

I turn to look at him with my mouth parted in surprise at his thoughtfulness, his hands are clasped behind his back like he’s bashful for getting found out.

“Jasper-“ but he interrupts me.

“The garage is next.” I watch him turn on his heel and disappear down the hallway.

I look down and brush my fingers on his black comforter as I smile to myself before following him, so Jasper Hale isn’t immune to his own feelings - he just doesn’t like to show them.

Walking into the garage, my eyes skip over the beautiful cars and land on a sleek little thing in the back. A Ducati 848 to be exact, it draws me in like a magnet. Immediately I knew it had to belong to Jasper, no one else seemed like the type. Rose had her red convertible, Emmett had his Jeep, and Edward had his mom-car. Alice and Esme didn’t bother with vehicles and Carlisle had a reasonable, albeit expensive, commuter.

“Wow,” my voice quiet as my fingers brushed the gas tank, “I’m impressed, Hale.”

“You know bikes?” Jasper asks with a hint of curiosity.

“Not really, but I know enough to know that this Ducati is basically a rocket and that it must’ve cost you a pretty penny.” I replied, eyes still glued to the beautiful machinery. “Why didn’t you tell me you drove a motorcycle?”

“Not many parents let their ‘teenager’ drive death traps around.”

“Touché.” I pause, “Take me for a ride?” Swinging my leg over to straddle the beast, I lean over the tank and glance at Jasper.

I know I’ve successfully distracted him by the amount of time it takes for him to respond. Grinning, I sit back and look at him expectantly.

“Absolutely not, darlin’. No way I’m risking-“

“You have safety gear, don’t you?” I tease him as I get off and walk behind him to snag the helmet placed on the counter along the back wall.

Jasper groans and tilts his head back in mock-frustration as he fishes the keys from his pocket. I squeal as I pull the helmet on and hop excitedly towards the bike.

“You’re wearing my protective gear or no deal, sweetheart.” He lays down the law as he stalks over to a cabinet, retrieving a thick coat and gloves.

I almost protest, but he’s pulling the jacket over my arms and zipping it up my chest leaving me breathless before I know what’s happening. Even with the helmet covering my face, I’m sure he senses the heat in my cheeks as he finishes checking me over.

“You sure about this?” Jasper asks, finding my eyes under the visor with his supernatural vision.

“Are you sure about this?” I counter, the unease floating around is practically choking me in this enclosed space before it vanishes in a snap.

He flips up my visor, “Riding with someone requires trust-“

“I trust you, Jasper Hale. Completely and without any reservations or doubt in your abilities to keep me safe.” I swear my words stunned him, his mouth parted slightly as I blurted the confession. As if he realized the doubt that was flowing earlier was from him and not me.

“You are…”, he mutters his response low enough that I can’t hear as he swings a leg over the motorcycle and turns to me seriously. “Number one rule, don’t let go of me. Lean with me on turns and stay tucked in. If you need to stop, tap on my chest. Any questions, doll?” Jasper asks.

“Where are we going?” I climb on behind him and scoot close enough to wrap my arms around his waist lightly, this is the first opportunity I’ve had to be this close to him and it’s amazing. I let out a small gasp when he grabs the backs of both knees to tug me closer, bracketing my hips around his to tuck me in close. He then grabs my arms and places them over his chest, the side of my helmeted head coming to rest on his large back.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, ready?” I feel a teasing chuckle rumble in his chest, so I simply nod, excitement tingling all over from where my body touches his.

The Ducati roars to life in the enclosed space and I feel it lean to the right as Jasper taps the garage door button on the wall to open our exit. My arms squeeze him a little tighter as we launch forward down the driveway, I’m tempted to wave to Esme smiling from the porch, but I decide against it remembering his number one rule of not letting go.

This is single-handedly the best idea I’ve ever had.

Jasper

This girl will be the death of me, I know it for certain.

She could ask me to bring her the moon and I would have it in her hands in a heartbeat. Taking her out on my motorcycle? Easy in theory, extremely difficult in practice. I’ve never felt as I do right now with her arms around me, her completely pressed against my back and squeezing me at every jolt and turn I make.

Heaven and Hell, having my greatest temptation in such close proximity.

She trusts me. Completely and without doubt - her fucking words. I’m positively speechless, I’ve never had someone to myself that trusted me so wholly without needing any kind of explanation or-or proof-

And her leaning over my bike in the garage? I nearly swerve us right off the road thinking about the arch in her back, the way her chest pressed against the tank, her toes barely able to touch the ground… it took nearly every ounce of control to remain rooted while she was seated atop my motorcycle.

My only regret is not showing her the garage sooner, that image of her will forever be seared into my mind. On second thought, I’m sure my mental images were extremely loud and clear in the garage - it’s a mystery how Edward can manage to be around the couples in our family. For me at least, the emotions get too much sometimes and I need breaks.

I’ve noticed that I’ve needed them less and less since Y/n literally slammed her way into my life - breaks from everyone else that is. She not only elicits a physical reaction that no one else has ever managed to coax out of me, but she has also become a mental safe-haven. Being around her energy is as easy and mindless as breathing, if only I could breathe around her without inhaling molten lava. Everything about her completely consumes me, tears me apart and builds me back up, unmakes and makes me over and over, infinite bliss and unending torture. My singer, her blood is a symphony and I am her rapt audience hanging on to every beautiful note and praying for an encore.

My singer.

The revelation clangs through my soul and grants my body with a new purpose; her. She is mine to protect, from this day onward. My left hand reaches up to anchor myself where Y/n’s hands rest on my chest, her arms not quite long enough for her fingers to meet in the middle. I smile to myself, maybe I can allow myself this one bit of happiness, to let her in.

Next