#i will like someone and still not follow them. i only follow if i actively am begging to be friends or we already are established friends

[nadvs]

　　💻　⊹　❀　︵　∘　 ⟢ even from afar

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating mature 18+

summary it’s hard enough to pretend you’re over someone. it’s even harder when you see them with someone new.

author’s note i was listening to ‘carousel’ by isabella on loop while writing this… entirely the vibe of this blurb.

blurb in the cam girl universe (18+), following the alt ending, based on this ask. all angst!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

having to find a second job was a hassle. after her car broke down and she got a ridiculous estimate that made it clear that getting a new car would be the financially smarter option, she knew she needed to find another source of income.

there were no other placements for her as a maid, so she secured a job as a server for a high-end catering company. it’s yet another position where she’s tending to the island’s wealthiest and snobbiest, but she tries to have a good attitude about it.

tonight, she’ll hand out drinks and refreshments and be cordial but quick like she’s been trained to be, giving guests what they want but not bothering them with her presence. it’ll be fine. maybe she’ll even earn some tips.

but then she sees rafe across the crowded banquet hall. and her stomach drops.

when she secured this job a couple of weeks ago, the tiny possibility of him being at an event she had to work gnawed at her in the back of her mind. but now, he’s really here, in the same room as her, looking agonizingly good in a navy suit and white button-up, his hair pushed back.

meanwhile, she’s in an uncomfortable uniform, a black dress that ends mid-calf, paired with practical shoes. as if she needed the reminder of how divided their worlds are.

the last time she saw rafe was over a month ago at his friend’s place, the house she started working at when she had to leave the cameron residence. when he called her so fucking stubborn. when he told her he loved her.

while she’s supposed to be focused on filling her tray with martinis, she can’t tear her eyes off of him, hating herself for still missing him.

then, she sees a woman’s hand cupped around his bicep, her manicure flawless, her bracelet shining under the chandelier lights. her hair is perfect. her dress is beautiful.

and her heels are the farthest thing from practical. because she doesn’t need to worry about being comfortable. the pain of seeing rafe with another woman, obviously a rich one, tears through her with no mercy.

she swallows down her nerves and looks down at her tray, mentally telling herself that if she really has to cry about it, she can cry later. she has work to do.

she thought she was feeling better about all this. admittedly, sometimes, she has to dismiss the frustrating worry that she was too impulsive with kicking rafe to the curb. but she was sure she was getting over him.

yet right now, her heart is a traitor, pounding with anticipation and pain and yearning as she looks at him. she’ll stay away from that particular area. it’s the only way she’ll make it through tonight.

it’s not that easy. almost twenty minutes into the gala, she gets pulled in to the group of four, having to face rafe again. the man whose house she cleans, rafe’s friend, looks at her with raised brows when he realizes it’s her passing by.

“what, we don’t pay you enough?” he asks with a laugh. “had to get a second job?”

she stops in her tracks. she looks up at him with a forced smile. god, she hates him. he’s cruel. he always bosses her around. he actively tries to make her feel like she’s below him.

she doesn’t want to look at rafe. she can’t.

“just getting more experience,” she says sternly but politely, then tries to step away.

“wait,” the woman on rafe’s arm says. “i’ll get a passionfruit martini.” she doesn’t even really make eye contact, more focused on her phone.

but rafe’s eyes aren’t on his girlfriend. or his phone. he’s staring at the beautiful girl wearing a uniform she shouldn’t have to wear, working a job she shouldn’t have to work. it still keeps him up at night, why he wasn’t good enough, why she didn’t want him spoiling her anymore.

“it’s a closed menu,” she replies, still refusing to look at rafe, “but we have french and lemon drop.”

the girl looks up from her phone and scoffs.

“you can’t just make it?”

rafe sees it in her eyes, how frustrated she is at his girlfriend’s attitude. he’s frustrated, too. he still doesn’t even know what he’s doing dating her.

but she’s been a good distraction. and maybe he’s an asshole for using a person to distract himself, but she’s just as shameless, a kook who’s been trying to hook up with him for ages because rafe’s notorious for not wanting to be locked down into a relationship.

he’s just a fling, a game to win to her, while she’s just a diversion from the weight that won’t leave his shoulders.

“we can’t make it,” she reiterates.

“why not?”

“just take what’s on the menu,” rafe tells her.

“babe,” she complains. “they have a whole bar over there. they can make it.”

finally, the woman he loves meets his eyes. and his entire body tenses. he misses her so fucking bad that he aches.

he stopped going to his buddy’s house so he wouldn’t have to see the girl who broke his heart working there. does she know that she still carries a piece of it everywhere she goes? does she even care?

rafe takes a glass from the tray, never losing eye contact with her.

“we’re good,” he says, his voice low, his stare heavy. “thanks.”

he hands the drink to his girlfriend, hoping it’ll shut her up. they’ve only been together a week and rafe is already sure he’ll be ending things.

because now, he’s been reminded of what it’s like to really love someone, to be so attracted to a woman that it’s like she’s the only person in the room, to want to spend all your time with her.

he’s found that in only one person. and she just walked away, eyes flitting away from him with hurtful indifference.

“wait, how do you know her?” his girlfriend asks his friend.

“she’s my maid,” his friend replies.

“is she always so fucking rude?” she scoffs. rafe sighs to himself. he thinks she should have been much ruder.

“not in bed,” his friend says with a grin.

“bullshit,” his other buddy laughs. “you’re not really hitting that, are you?”

“jealous?” he replies.

rafe’s blood goes hot. he doesn’t believe it. not for a second. not when he saw the way she looked at his friend. there was nothing but vitriol in her gaze.

she can’t be sleeping with him. but the thought of his idiot friend trying to put any moves on her, making her uncomfortable, makes him feel like he might go insane.

he has to be sure she’s being treated okay. and honestly, he’ll take any excuse to talk to her.

as she stands at the bar, tidying up the dirty dishes she just collected, she realizes she can hear her heartbeat over the music and conversations.

rafe has a girlfriend. already. they broke up, if she could even call it that, a month ago. he said he loved her. and now he has an insufferable, spoiled girlfriend. was anything he ever said genuine?

“hey.”

his familiar voice makes goosebumps blossom over her skin. she looks up to see rafe standing at her side, eyes travelling over her face.

the things those eyes have seen. her, in every way, in so many positions, taking her in while he called her perfect and said she was made for him.

“what is it? i already told your girlfriend it’s a closed menu,” she says sternly, unable to curb her envy.

despite everything, rafe’s lips curl up into a smirk. she’s jealous. a girl who doesn’t have any feelings for him wouldn’t be jealous.

“you care that i have a girlfriend?”

she picks up her tray and holds it to her chest, as if it can offer her any protection against the hurt he’s caused her, and stares up at him.

she never felt any reason to lie to herself or to him about the nature of their relationship. she never cared about her pride. she lost it long ago.

she steps an inch closer, making sure nobody else hears. it’s easy. she’s used to having to hide what they have. or had.

“it’s really fucked up to say you love someone, then be with someone else like, a second later,” she mutters. “i don’t care that you’re dating someone. it’s just obvious i’m not as important as you said i was.”

it’s not the answer he expects. she sees it in the way his face falls.

if he really opens up his heart right now, he’ll cry. he reminds himself of why he came over here in the first place.

“listen, it’s…” rafe swallows hard. “i’m here because he’s saying you two are hooking up.”

she sighs, rolling her eyes. his friend would. he’s a grade-a douchebag.

“i know it’s bullshit,” rafe says. truthfully, the confidence he has in her is refreshing. he was so possessive when they were together, but he knows her well enough to know she wouldn’t get near him.

“i just wanted to make sure he’s not doing anything to you,” he tells her. “are you okay?”

it’s a loaded question. no, she’s not okay. she’s so far from okay. these past few weeks have been hell. and she’s staring at the man who both ruined everything and could make it all better at the same time.

when rafe sees her brows drop and her eyes gleam with tears, his core twists in agony. what the hell has she been dealing with?

“you’re crying,” he says quietly, shocked to see a crack in her armor. ever since the night she ended things with him, she’s been cold and unforgiving. but now, she glances away, trying to swallow down the tears.

she remembers the nights they spent together, when they pushed each other to such physical limits that she was brought to tears, when he pointed out that she was crying in that exact tone of voice, stopping everything to comfort her.

“i need a second,” she says, stepping to the side. his hand rests on the inside of her elbow.

“let me come with you.”

again, it’s so out of character for rafe. he wouldn’t ever ask for permission before. he’d just follow her when she didn’t want to be followed, claiming her as his, angry that his property wasn’t doing what he wanted it to.

she didn’t doubt that he thought he loved her. but this is the first moment where she isn’t entirely doubting that it’s real. that it’s authentic, respectful love. and the revelation makes her uncomfortable and regretful and confused.

“okay.” the word comes out of her mouth before she can think.

he follows her into the empty coatcheck booth, shutting the door and turning on the dim light. they find a spot between filled up racks, jackets smelling like expensive perfumes and colognes. at this point, she’s sniffling back her tears.

rafe doesn’t know what to say. he just wants her to stop crying. it’s wrong. this is all so wrong. she shouldn’t be standing here, suffering in any way. she should be out in the crowd with him, as his date, smiling and laughing, without a shred of sadness sitting on her soul.

“i’ll kill him,” he says impulsively. “what is he doing to you, baby?”

“don’t call me that,” she replies. “you have a girlfriend.”

rafe looks down, exhaling sharply.

“not really.”

“what does that mean?”

“we don’t give a shit about each other,” he admits with a humorless chuckle. “it’s been a week and she already flirts with other guys in front of me. and i don’t even care. if you did that in front of me-”

rafe stops himself. it’s too much. he looks up at the ceiling. there’s no point in telling her how much she means to him when she doesn’t return the sentiment.

she tilts her head. hearing that his relationship is a superficial farce is unbelievably relieving, part of the reason being that if that girl out there is really his type, she never even stood a chance.

“tell me what he does,” he says.

“he’s just…” she shakes her head. it’s been torment, dealing with the environment at the house she cleans at now.

“he purposely makes messes just so i have to stay late to clean them,” she admits. “he says shit like ‘i know my stuff is worth more than your house, so i better not catch you stealing.’ and i would quit if i could, but-”

“why can’t you?” rafe urges. she sucks her teeth in frustration. he’s so out of touch.

“i have rent and bills. i need a new car. and it’s not like there’s a lot of options for people like me on this island.”

rafe stills. it’s the first time she’s ever said something like that out loud. she never seemed to think she was below anyone. it’s what split them up, her being so sure he saw her as just an object, even though that was never the case.

hearing her categorize herself like that with defeat in her tone is a punch to his gut.

“people like you?” he echoes.

“i shouldn’t be in here,” she sighs. “i shouldn’t be talking to you.”

“why is talking to me so goddamn bad?” rafe says, his temper flaring for the first time tonight. finally, after weeks of pain, they’re having a civil conversation, and she’s already dismissing him.

she looks up at him wordlessly. for once, she doesn’t know what to say. but then it comes rushing back, why she pushed this beautiful man out of her life. it cuts through her like she heard it a second ago.

“the shit you said to your friends-”

“stop,” he mutters. “don’t do that to me. i apologized a million fucking times.”

she crosses her arms, entirely at a loss. she’s not sure what he did could ever entirely leave her mind.

rafe rakes his hand through his hair, his bangs falling over his forehead.

“how much do you make cleaning?” he says. “i’ll double it until you find somewhere else to work.”

“what?” she says. here he is, wanting to solve all her problems with his wallet yet again, like they never had a brutal falling out.

“just let me do this,” he says.

her brows knit in confusion.

“why?” she finally says.

“are you kidding me?” he scoffs. “don’t make me say it when you’re not gonna say it back.”

she realizes he doesn’t want to say he loves her out loud. her heart is pounding even harder now.

the door clicks open and her eyes widen in concern, gripping rafe’s hand out of instinct. they’re concealed entirely behind the coat rack, but if anyone comes around the corner, they’ll be found.

she knows that rafe wouldn’t be in any sort of trouble. she, on the other hand, would be fired.

they have nowhere to go or to hide. they stare at each other, suspended, listening to someone she assumes works for the venue sorting things.

rafe can’t help it. his thumb strokes over the back of her hand. she looks down, gazing at the way her hand looks in his.

the endless nights they spent together rush through her head, how she felt his body surrounding hers, felt his lips on hers, felt him deep inside her. but those nights weren’t endless. they came to a crashing halt when her worst fears about him came true.

rafe gazes down at her, eyes travelling over her lashes and her lips, imagining that she’ll look up at him again, lean forward, and finally, finally, kiss him and give him the air he needs to breathe again.

but the door shuts and she lets go of his hand.

she doesn’t say anything. so, he does.

“just tell me how much you make there,” he says. “you don’t have to go back.”

she’s never had someone take care of her like this. he knows she won’t give him what he wants anymore. nothing physical. nothing at all. and she’s at her wit’s end, exhausted from working two jobs. she’ll take the help.

“i’ll text you,” she says. then, she rushes past him to get back to work. at the end of the night, she texts him the amount she earns in a week. he sends her well above double.

two days later, she’s sitting in her bedroom studying when she hears a knock on her apartment door.

it’s an older man at her front step, asking for her by name. she confirms she’s who he’s looking for and he hands her a small paper envelope.

“it’s parked out front,” he tells her. she watches in confusion as he leaves.

when she shuts her door, she opens the envelope to see that it’s a car key. she rushes to the kitchen window, looking out at the front of her building, and hits the lock button. the shiny car’s lights blink in unison.

it’s true. rafe bought her a fucking car.

she sinks into the closest seat at her kitchen table, staring down at the keys. it’s a ridiculously lavish gift, especially from someone she pushed out of her apartment last time he was here, someone she dismissed so harshly.

minutes later, she texts rafe: i can’t accept this.

he’s sitting in his bedroom when the text comes in. he knew she’d say that, which is why he paid someone to drop off the gift and leave before she realized what it was.

he replies soon after: if you think i expect anything, i don’t. you already told me nothing i do will make you want me again, so i know better. i want to do this for you. just take it. please.

she rereads the message over and over. then, she closes the conversation.

the wound he left in her is still bleeding. she knows because when she imagines him touching her again, she’s sure she’ll just remember the horrible things he said, the disgusting things he let his friends say.

and the pain of that would be too sour to allow her to feel anything sweet.

[scoobydoodean]

i do think it’s kinda funny that casgirls are now complaining about “deangirls saying cas is a bad dad to jack” when like… most of the bad dad criticism for cas (granted, based on what i’ve seen, from you and your/my mutuals) is about how he’s treated other kids in the show like claire 😭😭 for jack specifically, at most, i’ve seen criticisms about cas’s high expectations for jack, but it’s all said in a rather fair, polite way, still qualifying that cas is a good dad in other moments.

but… but then it makes me kinda sad cause their defense is often just here’s cute pictures of cas and jack and btw dean sucks and he only continues thee cycle of bad dads 😞😞

sorry for ranting to you like this, but a casgirl account showed up on my dash and (i did not interact with them but) now i’m feeling kinda like when dean gets insulted for trying to say his own opinions lolol

I don't think anyone was particularly mean about Cas, but you have to remember that deancrit is an accepted staple of destielblr and cascrit isn't. It's been that way for a long time and destielblr has allowed it to be that way. Cas fans are very unused to people talking about Cas even slightly negatively without 50 different qualifiers downplaying whatever he did/didn't do because that has become standard in order to soothe the egos of a handful of touchy cas stans.

I think Cas's intentions are always for good. Sometimes his actions don't work out the way he wants. Sometimes he has blindspots. I don't feel the need to prove I feel that way every single time I write a post. I don't even tag my posts with fandom specific tags. I assume my audience is my followers who already know how I think.

I guess I just think it's funny that saying anything about Dean goes, up to and including that he is the sole problem in every single relationship he has ever had, but the moment someone says Cas isn't actually around that much to parent Jack suddenly everyone acts like we're having this huge fandom-wide discourse deangirls are forcing them into it. Well the people who feel that way can go have that discourse by themselves. I'm not going to treat this like it's a huge deal. Cas did not take as active a role in parenting Jack day to day or being with him day to day as Dean did. If people want to bitch about me saying so for three days while pretending I am somehow inciting them to do that, they're more than welcome to do that over in their little area while I move on to more interesting topics.

[lovecolibri]

Am I a loser for fearing that this will be like BT 1.0 in that it is dragged out and remains stale and chemistry-less and harmful to Buck's character (for being with a not good person and not caring about said person's bad deeds) and the twist will be that it doesn't end 😭 Don't hate me for being negative...I was not negative until today, seeing that gremlin in the promotions and Tim showing favoritism to anti-Buddies yet again on FB.

And it's so funny that all my concern stems from social media activity and nothing about what I'm seeing on the show itself. Because the show has shown he is a non-entity - giving him and Buck no development, HIM no development, no evolution, no appeal, since last season. Yet maybe the writing and producing IS just that bad now.

Sorry to be a bit of a pessimist. I just feel like the vibe shifted dramatically over the past day and I'm in my feelings, I guess.

First of all, you're not a loser! There is a long history of TV shows NOT following through on things for fans of a popular fandom ship, including this one, back ins season 4, leading to that godawful BT 1.0 mess in the first place!

There is a lot of reasons this gets compared to the OG BT, because the show seems to be giving them no development and he's so clearly WRONG for Buck and seems to enjoy talking down to him and watching him deflate a little each time, and also it makes Buck look kinda shitty for dating someone who purposefully hurt, and delighted in hurting people Buck loves. I have said multiple times I wasn't ever worried about tay kay as a LI in s4 because she called him "needy" in that nasty voice on the heels of the audience seeing how absolutely shit his parents were and where all those issues came from, so I was sure that was the narrative telling us she wasn't going to work out. Only to get slapped in the face with an entire fucking season of Buck looking miserable with her, which was never addressed, him trying to talk about their issues and the firefam lecturing HIM about HIS failings instead of ever being allowed to talk about how they felt about her given their past (you can't tell me back in s4 Athena would EVER willingly let that woman in her and Bobby's home, much less feed her), and then watch her nearly get Chim and Hen killed and STILL get a fucking "amicable" breakup of the "oh no one was really to blame, it just didn't work out" variety. So like. Yeah, sometimes the writing is just That Bad 🤷🏻‍♀️

What I will say about all of that though, is we now have information we didn't back in s4. Information like, we weren't seeing things and there WAS a set up planned, and discussed with Oliver (at least, likely Ryan too since the shooting was Like That and what the fuck other bi realization was Buck gonna have, or gay realization was Eddie gonna have after his breakup with Ana was Like That), but the network forced the changes. Tim fucked off to go smash other dolls together (and lost his mind a little bit over on LS, probably because he leveraged that shit into getting to do whatever he wanted, plus the whole RL effect), and the story got changed and, as Tim pointed out, it made the show markedly worse. I'm not putting all my faith and trust in a network, but I will say ABC knows what kind of accolades, awards, and hype this kind of story will bring them and that is something I DO trust.

8x01 might be fluke like the handful of watchable episodes in s5-6, but it truly felt like the Buck we know and love was back, the focus was on the core four and on the emergencies, there was *heart* in the emergency, we got dispatch properly involved, and even the Athena stuff took a turn for a more rescue-focused adventure than the Con-Air prison transport plane mishap I was expecting. The bees sounded ridiculous and like they could be one emergency, like freeway shark my beloved, or *maybe* hold a whole episode, but I was NOT expecting much for a disaster opening and was fully prepared for s5 levels of zoo animals promotion vs actual 3 episodes of creeper being creepy cop storyline. But they actually...kinda pulled it off?? It's no tsunami or earthquake by a LONG shot, and I'm still reserving judgment until the arc is over (I enjoyed the cruise ship disaster but it needed more core four on sight helping with rescues which make it drag a little being so separate from everything else), but it felt like a season 2 or 3 episode at heart!

All this to say, *EYE*, notorious salt gremlin and hater (because trying for low expectations is what works for me!), am feeling more hopeful about the show as a whole than I have in awhile. And I'm going to hold your hand so gently when I give this advice, you can take it or not (for some people, needing to know everything is what works for them, so you do you!), but do not listen to that middle-aged white man and what he does on facebook. Or anywhere. Do not listen to that man! He is a shit-stirrer, and he is a liar! They all are in interviews! Him and Oliver both said "hardly any time skip" and then they did the exact same 3 month time skip they have ALWAYS done between the spring season ending and the fall premier! He lies! He interacts with shit he probably doesn't even read, just promotes his show! He does not care about upsetting us because people shouting over each other about the show just reads to him, and the people above him to let him do things, as the show having enough impact to be talked about! I personally have good feelings because he likes to get his way and ABC gave him something in 4 episodes he'd been trying to do since s4. And they originally green-lit it being another character so it feels like there were plans for both and timing just got switched.

DO NOT LET THAT MAN STEAL YOUR JOY!

I'm not going to tell you that of course it's all going to work out and be perfect and everything we wanted, but I WILL say, we all saw how fucking miserable Oliver was in s5 and 6, how checked out and disengaged he was (he was SO CLOSE and they TOOK IT from him! Fuck FOX forever!), and we saw how he was/is in interviews with or about that man, vs how happy and excited he was/is when talking about Ryan/Eddie/Buddie right now, how much he's engaging and sharing, and WHAT he is sharing. We saw the shift from filming episodes 5-6 to the back half of s7 for both him and Ryan. It's very loud, and while some kinda similar vibes have come through before, we have knowledge now we didn't before about why we kept getting those vibes and then having them pulled back. We know WHO was standing in the way and it wasn't Tim and it sure as fuck wasn't Oliver or Ryan, and that doesn't appear to be an issue anymore. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I hope my rambling incoherence was helpful, Nonnie!

[purplesoulcollection]

Unnatural Love

Part 11 Synopsis : Name has being transmigrated into the world of I'm Not That Kind Of Talent without ever reading the novel. She's not being reincarnated as a human but as a devil as well. Hi There! I want to let you know that this fanfiction story isn't solely my creation. I borrowed the concept from @quqiwo2. I haven't actually read the novel either, just some spoiler to the end.

I hope you'll excuse my spelling and grammar mistake, because English not my first language.

When I arrived both Deon and Cruel had already been attacked.

Before I had the chance to joined them and become a sudden weight without any plan, the screen popped up out of nowhere.

What?! Does this mean I have to hold on until the typical tragic moment unfolds? Or is it to enhance the surprise's impact?

“But when? I don't have any attack skills?” I finally realize that i need the strategy before jumped in.

I only possess a handful of skills at the moment, but I believe I can make my way out of here while carry these two brothers.

When I looked at the order, it looked like Cruel would be stabbed in the heart.

Shield!!!

Finally his sword was brushed aside. No time to be relieved

"You guys okay?"

This screen feels quite sinister. If I let the moment slip by, there's no way to stop the disaster that follows.

"Adele!!"

"The explanation will come later. Now let's run away first!"

I noticed the skill that can only be used a single time. Still, I realize how awesome it is to have that skill, even if it's just for one occasion.

I hit yes and swiftly lead both Cruel and Deon out of this place. The skill effect truly makes me feel overpowered; I dash like those anime characters who zoom past, leaving the rest of the group in the dust with no hope of catching up.

Because of that ability, Cruel, Deon, and I were able to evade the assassins. I successfully led them both out of harm's way.

Where did I take them? Does anyone have any idea?

Yes, it is true.

Deon's home is filled with influential individuals. Lofty's soldiers are just hanging around there. Their eyes wide open, don't believe their eyes when I brought both brothers alone, so I quickly instructed them to stay put and be ready before heading to the house.

The times is up when i toss them both to the sofa while I'm lying on the floor, regardless of manners or dirty floors.

I feel drained and a bit grimy as I lie on the floor with no energy left.

I'm completely out of breath and utterly exhausted now that the activity has come to a halt. My heart was racing, pumping blood quickly and intensely, and I can feel aches in every part of my body, particularly in my legs and hands, which really pushed beyond their limits, after carrying two adult men whom both in the shock from the wild ride they just experienced, and they haven't responded yet.

I'm tired, even though I have the help of skills, it feels like I have exceeded the limits of my abilities. Super strength is a really cool skill. It's a shame to have a skill that can only be used a single time.

We're in the silence before someone spoke up.

"Older brother... "

"Why, why are you protecting me...?"

Ding!

Then Deon fainted after the screen appear, make both Deon and I check him right away.

"Deon!"

"Deon!"

When I saw Deon had fainted, I was taken aback for a moment before I managed to collect myself. I leaned in to check for his breath near his nose and felt for a heartbeat, hoping he was just unconscious.

"I think he fainted due to excessive emotions."

"Who are you?" said Cruel began to take notice of me and started asking questions.

I felt really uneasy being questioned by someone I didn't know, especially since I sensed they might harm me if I said the wrong thing. But he's still Deon's brother.

"Fiancée... " I said with the low voice.

"He doesn't have a fiancée." He claimed like he know him better than anyone else, and that was true.

If I feel that way, then there's really no point in deceiving him. "I'm his girlfriend from the demon world."

Cruel looked stunned, looking at my face, looking for any indication of my deception reflected in my body language, before finally laughing out loud.

I was amazed to see someone who had just released a menacing vibe suddenly shift their behavior so quickly.

"My brother's taste is strange too." He spoke that with a downcast expression and gloomy face.

It seems he has finally revealed his darker side, possibly reflecting on his near-death experience. Perhaps he's considering leaving Deon to navigate this world on his own, having made a sacrifice for the greater good which is literary not.

"Cruel please, I urge you to speak with Deon as soon as he wakes up. He feels that you and your parents dislike him and even want to harm him"

"I accept the grudge."

And his irresponsible words made me scream at him.

"Just do as I say!"

"This is the only chance you can make peace with Deon and make him happy."

"I tried so hard to save you two so that you can make peace, stupid brother!"

"Do you really hate him? Your brother? If so, why did you save him from that killer?"

I directed my anger at him, but he responded only with silence. His brow furrowed deeply, his hands were tightly clenched, and he bit his lips as if trying to suppress his emotions.

"I want to hate him... But I can't." His voice is soft, like he has no power to hate Deon who kill their parents.

Why is he even saying this to me, the one who should hear this isn't me!

"So, just confide in him. I think there is a misunderstanding between you." I still tried to persuade him but it's clearly that he didn't want to hear me at all.

"War is the cause!" he exploded in my face. There is no hope for me to talk to him again.

"I will take Deon to his room. I ask for your coordination, Cruel Hart."

I left Cruel by himself and escorted Deon back to his room. He sleeps deliriously. I couldn't help but think, is it a pleasant dream or a troubling one for him?

The screen says that he will cure Deon's split personality. Will this end well? The screen doesn't even ask my opinion whether I want to cure it or not, why?

While Deon was unconscious, I ordered Remember to tighten the security at this house. I don't said who's gonna in charge of the guarding.

In the end it left Lofty troops to guarding. Everyone already knows their reputation, so nobody dare to mess with us.

But there are definitely Lofty members who visit Deon who still unconscious for a few days.

Deon's health is a constant concern for them, especially since he's unconscious without any visible injuries or bruises. It's puzzling for them to think of their strong captain in such a vulnerable state.

I also informed the palace because of our sudden disappearance from the hunt with a letter. Remember helps me to send it.

Cruel himself stayed in one of the guest rooms here. But he just kept quiet and ate the food that was delivered. Only he refused to get out.

So I think Cruel is no problem at all. He can take care of himself.

I'm also still visiting Deon. Just a reminder, the housework is all taken care of by Remember, so I have nothing on my plate right now.

Seeing him not waking up in the few days becoming so tired for me. I want him to be up and showing his shy side while still being attentive to my needs.

'Hurry up and wake up, Deon.'

Why do I become so sad when I see him lying like this. He appears even paler than usual, with his skin looking more lifeless than before, almost resembling a literal corpse. What if he never been awake again?

Even though just a few days ago I saw him happy, laughing and talking with me. He who laugh at my silly actions and he who also sad when i sad.

Why is he lying like this now? Is it because he's the protagonist?

I found myself unexpectedly in tears, and soon enough, I was sobbing as well, even though there was no clear reason for it.

Why, why does this heart hurt so much?

Then TING..

I notice this and feel stuck, almost paralyzed, forgetting that I've been crying. It feels like my heart has plummeted from a great height.

Ah, apparently so...

I have loved Deon.

Finally...

Initially, I accepted Deon's expression of love, but it wasn't out of love itself....

Deon is undeniably a handsome guy, and he would definitely be the most attractive person around. I admit that fact.

But who could truly fall for him so quickly without getting to know him better first? He tends to share his feelings a bit too soon for my liking, before I have the chance to understand him on a deeper level.

But that time, I find myself in a tough spot and truly need some support. Even if it means relying on someone else, I’m willing to accept his love.

I'm evil to Deon, i admit that, but he was the one who started it first. I never asked him to confess his love when I wasn't feeling well.

It feels hard to turn him down too, especially since he seems so vulnerable to break like I am.

As time went on, I got to know him better, and we began to laugh and share special moments together. Perhaps this is was the right time to start realize that I was falling in love with him.

And I pressed yes to accept the reward.

I’ve actually known what I wanted to ask since the very first time I arrived here. It's such the obvious one.

“Why am I being transmigrated?’’

'My fate, your ass' i curse this screen in my mind, not voicing it at all

“What should I am doing now? If this is my fate.”

'Does that mean I can only love him for a short time? Why?'

“Am I going to die if the demon king dead?”

I'm seeing the final question and just looked at it without saying anything. I should mention that I'm content, eager to return to my own world, and completely ready to leave this disappointing place behind without any regrets.

I really should have said that...

But why…

Why my heart feels so hurt, like transparent hand squeezed my heart. Make me burst out of cry. Even harder than my cried before.

'Why do I have to love him now when I know I’ll be leaving soon? It feels so unfair; it’s like the universe wants me to care for him just to make me suffer.'

I cried so intensely that I had to lay my head on the bed, overwhelmed by sadness and trying to stifle my sobs so I wouldn't disturb his sleep. My mind and my heart are at odds with each other. Wanting to go back and wanting to stay here.

And then i feel someone's hand on my head. "Don't cry" he said that with a soft and cracked voice. I realized whose this voice.

This voice...

"Are you awake, Deon?" My head ups to seeing Deon already open his eyelids, show his amazingly red eyes. His eyes looks worried with my condition.

"Why are you crying? I hate seeing you cry." He inquired as he wiped away my tears. I allowed it, even resting my head against his hand. I long to feel his rough hand and the warmth he brings to my life.

"Because you didn't wake up." I sobbed at him. Pouting my face to look more ludicrous and being topped by my wet face. He only crackled his breath and look at me warmly.

"Now I'm awake, so no need to cry."

"That's why I don't cry anymore." I dried my tears and wrapped my arms around him. I didn’t mention why I was crying as he held me close.

“Deon.” I reach out to him after he’s been examined by the doctor, nourished following his brief coma, and feeling much better. We’re both lying in bed together. I lay side to him while he's looking at the rooftop

“What?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” He's still not looking at me. Is he lying?

But I'm not the quitter, “Is there any parts that hurts?’’

“No?”

Then I have to point my concern, “Your feelings, what about your feelings?”

“Peace.”

Impossible, don’t try to fake around me, Deon.

"Do you want to meet your brother? So you two can talk."

"---" Silence ahead.

"Deon, I think- I really think, why don't you have a good talk with your brother. Maybe there is a misunderstanding between you and your family"

"What misunderstanding?" His voice took on a sudden edge as he attempted to convince himself that there was absolutely no misunderstanding. He's look at me with shaked pupils.

But I also know that it no longer having use to him. He already know that fact too.

"Of course I also don't know, that's your family privacy. But your brother should know. If there wasn't a misunderstanding between you, your brother wouldn't have tried to save you from that killer, right?"

"He hates me and wants to kill me. Even though he is my brother..." He still try his best to resist the idea. His feeble attempts at resistance make me feel a sense of sadness for him. Yet, he really needs to change.

"You actually want to forgive him, don't you?"

"N-no..." His defense finally took a hit.

"Otherwise you wouldn't have called him big brother back then."

"___" He glanced downward, shutting his eyes tight and covering his ears with his hand, attempting to block me out completely. Yet, my voice broke through his final barrier.

"Admit it, Deon. Or he will give up his life again for you."

He was trembling and shaking as he removed his hands from his ears. Hit the nail.

"Instead of regretting it later. Talk to him, especially since he's your only family left."

"But, but if... This is just a misunderstanding at all. Father, Mother..." He can't even finish his sentence, but i know the what he's talking about.

"I'm sure they will forgive you. Those who didn't run away from you when you came home proves it. They love you so they give you their life"

"Mother, father... "

He wept, tears streaming down his face. Though his sobs were quiet, he couldn't help but lament about his parents and the regrets he held regarding them. At last, he came to terms with that truth.

I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to offer some comfort in this moment. I wanted him to know that I’m right here by his side. As I gently ran my hand along his back and through his hair, I could feel my shoulders getting damp from his tears.

Hoping that he can repent and forgive himself.

For himself and his family...

"Cruel, come in!" I stand in front of Deon's room with Cruel. I had to really pull this bigger guy than me just to get us here. Why he have to be such an unsupportive person?

"You don't want to come in?" He looks at me with his pitiful but still nervous one.

Why he looking at me like that, your pitiful gaze doesn't make me want to make the easy way for you.

"No, I've comforted him as best as I could. Please don't blame him too much or say harsh things to him. He himself knows best that he was wrong." His tears also bring me sadness. Love is so complicated that I find myself feeling sympathy for him.

"You really care about him."

"Because I am the girlfriend who loves him."

Then Cruel Hart enter his room and I turned around. Giving both people the privacy they want.

To Be Continued

[archduke-enver-gortash]

mmm essay about sally and kid gort in the tags (cw for child abuse, mentions of suicide, animal cruelty and a murder attempt. i always hope i don’t have to say this but just in case: i don’t excuse or condone any of her or gort’s behaviour at all.) this is literally not even touching upon everything i have to say because i hit the fucking tag limit lmao. NOBODY READ IT’S BAD BRAINSTORMING I JUST NEEDED TO GET IT OUT SOMEHOW

[cowboy-robooty]

banging my head into a wall trying to make friends as a dms guy when everybody else in the world likes talking through posts.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have found a beautiful perfect humble rock specimen that is light yellow with a weird dark yellowy brown lining, somewhat resembling a chunk of smoked gouda cheese... effervescent

[e77y]

Recently developed such a bad platonic/friendship crush (idk the word for it... I think there's a word??) on this one person I've barely spoken to 😭 Idk what is is... I just want to be their buddy... I want to do silly activities............ Send me memes and read my fanfics............................

[sealovinq]

i need friends /gen (slight rant in tags)

[starswallowingsea]

Every single one of those posts that tells people they should at least reblog some of the stuff they like has the replies FILLED with people saying that you can't tell anyone what to do and like. yeah i guess there's always been lurkers on here but like. you realize the people saying this are doing it because they love the culture on this site and don't want to see it taken over by people who refuse to engage with content in a meaningful way.

you don't have to reblog every single thing you like (and hell since reblogs are now something that can be turned off, sometimes you cant) but like. you should reblog some things. whether its memes or fanart or fanfic or informational posts or whatever. you could also try to start a gimmick blog that posts a specific type of content and you can utilize the tags to get out there since plenty of people do check general tags on this site. you can also have side blogs if you want! which can be themed around specific things! this is also a super common thing!

you're new here so you're still feeling things out and trying to get your foot in the door so just start reblogging content and following people. i know some of you are looking to gain a big following really quickly but tbh growth on this site is incredibly slow so you have to be patient and you have to put in the effort to get real people interested in following you, and your reblogs can say a lot about you

[squidong]

man. the Discourse has calmed down so much that i forget people who think it’s okay to say vile things still exist. for a moment i lived in a kinder world

[utvarpcity]

just saw a neat little trio of sweden’s best bands live

[daincrediblegg]

no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly

I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.

because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).

And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.

It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.

so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.

[zephyrchama]

Water Wrinkles

Seven demon brothers sat solemnly in a circle around you. You did your best to ignore them. It wasn't often that you got to spend time at the human world villa, and you were intent on soaking up as much sun as you could before returning to the Devildom.

You reclined your beach chair back, crossing your arms under your still-wet hair. It was a gorgeous day. Perfect for being at the pool.

Leviathan let out a muffled sob. As the demon with the highest affinity for water, he blamed himself.

"Let us take you to a hospital," Satan insisted for the tenth time.

"They're going to laugh us out of the ER," you nonchalantly repeated.

Satan lowered his eyes and muttered, "I couldn't find any traces of a curse in the water... So how...?"

Asmodeus had his head in his hands, unresponsive. Sometimes his fingers curled around the ends of his hair. You briefly glanced over to make sure he didn't pull his hair out - that would be grounds for a real emergency.

"I can't bear to watch. Lucifer, do somethin'," Mammon whined. He was fidgeting all over the place and winced whenever he looked at your feet.

The oldest glared at you. You knew it was out of concern, but his fears were unfounded. Even Lucifer refused to listen to reason when he thought you were in danger.

"Actually, yeah. Lucifer, can you pass me a towel?" you asked. It was embarrassing having seven shirtless demons intensely staring at you. If they wouldn't let you go back in the water, maybe covering up would make you feel less self-conscious.

Lucifer didn't move. It was Beelzebub who plucked a spare towel off his younger twin and handed it to you with a shaking arm. He looked like a wet puppy, having been the one who first discovered your "condition" and swept you out of the pool.

Belphegor hadn't gone in the water that day. He only hogged the plush towels because of how comfortable they were and, following Beelzebub's lead, dumped them all onto your chair. Now he sat, wide awake. He was anxiously squeezing a loose chunk of concrete but at some point, without realizing, it got crushed to powder in his hand.

You had more than enough towels now.

"In half an hour you're going to forget this all even happened," you said to reassure the worry warts.

"In half an hour, you might be gone!" Mammon snapped back.

"You're going to be a wrinkled mess of skin and bones," Asmodeus weeped quietly.

Leviathan pressed his hands over his ears. Though, with nothing to cover his eyes he was forced to look at your wrinkled hands again. Based on the noises he was making, you'd think someone was torturing him.

"As I've said!" you reiterated. "All humans get wrinkly in water. Look, now that I'm drying off it's going back to normal."

Beelzebub grabbed your ankle, raising it for the brothers to observe at eye level. "I don't see a difference."

You didn't expect the sudden manhandling and slunk several inches down the lounge chair while the demons stared at your foot. Kicking and twisting your leg was futile. You modestly crossed your free leg.

"I think it's getting worse," Satan said.

"We need to take action," Lucifer decided.

Asmodeus was actively quivering now. Belphegor and Leviathan had crept behind you and started picking at your wrinkly fingers. You tried to swat them away to no avail.

"Give me 25 minutes! Literally! Probably even less, this will go away on its own! I just need to dry off."

"We need a solution now," Mammon asserted. The cogs in his brain were turning. "We need fire."

You tried to sit up, to jump up and stop Mammon before he burned the whole villa down in an attempt to dry you off, but Beelzebub had not let go and you stumbled. You grazed your knee on the concrete and winced.

A second round of panic overcame the demon brothers. Beelzebub let go, Lucifer picked you up, and Belphegor wrapped your knee with every available towel he could lay his hands on. Asmodeus and Leviathan were crying on each other's shoulders. Mammon came running back, oblivious to the second disaster that just occurred, with a flaming stick in his hand that Satan tried to keep at bay. If you got burnt on top of everything else, they'd probably go insane and destroy the human world.

In the midst of the chaos you caught a glimpse of your hand. It was practically dry. You couldn't even see the wrinkles anymore. You angrily wiggled in Lucifer's grasp as various hands fussed over you.

"Stay!!" you shouted over the clamor.

The brothers went tumbling to the ground, save for Lucifer who fought to stay rooted in place. You could finally hear yourself think again. There was primarily one thought on your mind.

"I just want to go swimming."

[jessiarts]

[Shut off last version of this post to avoid possible continual spread of misinformation that was corrected by staff. Reposting clean with corrected info]

So I'm sure almost everyone knows about the porn bot problem by now, so here's a post detailing why it's a problem, and what we need to do about it.

First off, yes, always block the porn bots. Don't be mislead into thinking they're ok to keep around because they 'inflate your follower count.'

Firstly, no one cares about, nor can anyone even see, your follower count. Be free from the shackles that are the bullshit other socials told you was important. Don't let your ego be tied to a number. Having a lot of followers won't earn you any clout here.

Secondly, bots only follow blogs to try and legitimize their malware (and other dodgy) links. This post goes into more detail about that.

Now that that's out of the way, you'll need to know how to recognize a porn bot. This round the template seems to be:

A profile photo of a pretty lady or guy, usually in their underwear, with a similar header photo.

A bio with some combination of: [Age] // [Name] // [Location] // [Emoji] // [Top Bullshit% OnlyFans]

URL consisting of a name followed by a number (i.e: firstlast999)

Typically an empty blog, or if there is content, it's all dodgy links. Visible, but empty, Likes Tab, & occasionally a visible Following Tab.

You likely recognize the pattern.

So, what you want to do is, first, report the blog as spam On mobile it'll look like this:

On mobile you'll need to report spam first, and then go back to the menu again to block.

On desktop it will look like this, and unlike mobile, you'll be able to report spam and block in the same motion:

If I remember correctly,* be sure to "Report Spam", not "Report sexually explicit material" to feed the bots to the proper channels. Because the blog is empty, they haven't posted anything explicit that would violate TOS. However, staff can recognize a bot, and if you report the blog for spam (the actual problem) they'll take a look, more than likely find that the blog is posting or DMing dodgy links, and dispose of it.

And I think that's it. Here's wishing you all a happy and safe blogging experience!

[UPDATE: It was suggested on another post that the bots track your IP if you click on them to send more your way. However, someone from staff corrected and said this is incorrect. They also corrected the 'guilt by association' myth that bots following you can get your blog flagged by tumblr.

That said, that trail all led to another, easier, way to report/block the bots all from your Follower Tab instead of visiting each blog separately, unfortunately it only works on desktop:

(For newbies, click on the little person icon at the top right of your screen and scroll to find the Followers tab under the blog/sideblog you need to block a pornbot from.)

*I remember this information from a blog that used to be all about taking down the pornbots. Unfortunately I do not know if that blog is still active, nor can I remember the URL. If anyone knows what blog I'm referring to, and/or if they're still active, please feel free to tag them so others can follow them for more tips!

[b0nten]

HOW ARE BABIES MADE?

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.

RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”

meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”

SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.

TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”

KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.

if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ‘kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.

IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.