((A bit of PWP writing involving Rhai’li in his new job. Much naughty. Such citrusy content. CW for a spicy threesome and some bondage))
He waited, breathless and wanting and squirming with need. The open ring of metal in his mouth prevented him from saying more than incoherent begging whimpers, and allowed drool to trickle down his chin unimpeded. He watched his first - and second - real clients talking quietly on the other side of the room. Even though his large, sensitive ears could just pick up their words, he couldn’t understand a single word the two Raen men exchanged. Their grins were telling enough, the laughter in their words sending an exciting little thrill of fear straight to Rhai'li’s half-hard cock.
It had started simple: making out with both of them, some groping and stroking over clothes. From there it had progressed quickly, with one holding Rhai'li in the thrall of his mouth and hands while the other undressed the utterly distracted Miqo'te. They’d leaned him back and pulled his arms to the sides, capturing each wrist in cuffs that were built into the posts of the bed. The gag, as it was, had come next, buckled securely at the back of Rhai'li’s head where he would have a hard time removing it even if he could use his hands.
Then they’d left him. They’d only spoken their own liquid language the entire time as well, leaving Rhai'li out of whatever they might be planning. He only knew their names - Ren and Sho - from the appointment they’d scheduled. The one Rhai'li thought looked like a ‘Sho’ leaned in to claim the other’s mouth in a deep, lingering kiss that almost looked like it could lead to something else. But it didn’t, Sho gesturing to the little sitting area and then walking back to the bed with a swagger in his step.
Rhai'li’s attention was quickly centered solely on Sho, especially when the Au Ra man divested himself of his shirt. His chiseled physique was accented by near-white scales, and a tantalizing line of them dipped below the waistband of the pants he still wore as he climbed up onto the mattress. Rather than remove them, he simply removed the barrier of the fly lacing and reached in to withdraw the thick length of his semi-erection. When Rhai'li’s tongue moved to instinctively try to lick his lips, Sho laughed and said something incomprehensible.
There was an answering chuckle from the direction of the chairs, prompting Rhai'li to try to laugh along with them. Sho smirked and threw a leg over Rhai'li’s chest. With practiced ease he guided his cock into the open cavern of Rhai'li’s mouth, effectively silencing the Miqo'te. Still, Rhai'li moaned around the girthy intrusion.
Grabbing Rhai'li’s hair, Sho dipped in until his tip tapped the back of Rhai'li’s throat and he pulled back, expecting the Miqo'te to gag around him. When the convulsions didn’t happen, Sho grinned and thrust in harder, deeper, pushing past where Rhai'li’s gag reflex ought to be. He groaned, barely giving Rhai'li time to adjust before taking his pleasure in absolutely fucking the younger man’s throat.
When Rhai'li wasn’t going cross-eyed from the force of it, Sho’s sac slapping against his chin with only the barrier of Sho’s trousers separating skin to skin, he followed the long lines of the Raen’s body to look up into his face. When Sho spoke, the approval in his voice was something Rhai'li could understand even without proper words. The hand in his hair slackened in order to pet his head and one of his ears, Sho continuing to talk in a soft tone that didn’t match the ferocity of his dick.
Rhai'li squeaked and his body arched as something hard and cold touched the pucker of his ass. Sho’s hand tightened on his ear to steady him, and bound as he was there was really nowhere for Rhai'li to go. He tried to kick one leg only to have it caught by a large, strong hand. Whatever was held against his hole pressed itself in, slick with oil but cold and hard like metal. It moved so slowly, especially compared to Sho, that it felt like an eternity before Rhai'li felt a small pop and his ass closed around the narrow neck of the plug and pulled the base flush. It was a familiar sensation, the toy one of the ones that Kalen had gifted him upon his being hired to the Sparrow. It was also one of the bigger models, stretching Rhai'li’s body with its unyielding and unforgiving force.
As Rhai'li squirmed he felt the toy press against the spot within him and he arched again, nearly choking on Sho’s cock. The Raen growled and forced himself past the resistance, his free hand cracking across Rhai'li’s face hard enough to leave a stinging print. Whimpering, Rhai'li let himself so slack again so that Sho could continue to use him.
He heard Ren’s voice from behind Sho before he saw the other man’s hands reach around Sho’s torso and feel him up from hips to nipples. Ren leaned close to Sho’s ear, murmuring something, while his hand dropped to Rhai'li’s head. His fingers twisted painfully tight in Rhai'li’s hair, dragging the Miqo'te’s head forward to meet each of Sho’s thrusts that were starting to stutter out of control. Just as Sho buried himself balls-deep for the last time, Ren forced Rhai'li’s head to stay still and accept the burst of seed that injected straight down Rhai'li’s throat. Rhai'li swallowed obediently, letting those muscles milk out everything Sho was willing to give.
Sho withdrew himself from Rhai'li’s un-closing mouth and slid off of him, letting Ren scoot up to take his place. Ren was smaller, but harsher, preferring to bury his fingers in Rhai'li’s hair and hold his head still with Rhai'li’s nose pressed tight against the leathery scales of Ren’s crotch.
The touch of hands on Rhai'li’s thighs were a surprise. Rhai'li’s involuntary squirm earned another slap, this time a sharp backhand from Ren that made him briefly see stars. Sho’s hands kneaded, working the flesh all around Rhai'li’s straining cock without touching where he very much wanted. Sho gripped the base of the plug and withdrew it, making Rhai'li whimper and gurgle around Ren’s dick.
There were a few words and some laughter from Sho before he replaced the plug with something bigger, longer, and much hotter. His cock slid between Rhai'li’s cheeks as if the Miqo'te’s ass had been designed to take it, filling him up in a way that felt so good. Had he not been sufficiently gagged with Ren’s cock, Rhai'li would not have been able to shut up about how good it felt and how much he wanted to be fucked.
Sho moved himself closer, adjusting himself and Rhai'li so that Rhai'li’s backside had no choice but to sit flush in Sho’s lap. At some point the Raen had removed his pants, allowing Rhai'li to feel the tingling scratch of the scales on Sho’s thighs when they brushed against him. Sho’s fingers dug into Rhai'li’s hips and lifted them, manipulating Rhai'li’s body to pleasure himself rather than having to move. At the same time Ren pulled away, unfinished.
It was easy to lose track of Ren, Rhai'li pushing his head hard back into the pillow and arching his back to better take every ilm of Sho. With his mouth no longer filled, Rhai'li garbled a string of begging words that made no sense but carried his desires nonetheless. Sho laughed and lifted him high, leaving only Rhai'li’s head and shoulders still against the bed. There was movement, weight shifting, and Rhai'li felt more hands lift him the rest of the way up only to let him back down - now lying on top of Ren.
Sho removed himself with some comment, hands stroking the oil-coated skin between Rhai'li’s legs. Ren responded with something sarcastic from behind Rhai'li’s head. The crown that met Rhai'li’s hole a moment later was not the one he wanted, but Ren’s length was not un-enjoyable. He moved slower from his prone position, shorter and shallower strokes that still gave Rhai'li a warm thrill.
Rhai'li surrendered to the easier pace and the different angle, how he was so spread out and exposed for Sho looking down at him. Sho continued to smooth one palm over Rhai'li’s skin, across his belly and up to his chest. It was warm and distracting, so when Sho guided the head of his cock to press against and then past the already-stretched muscle of Rhai'li’s hole, Rhai'li yelled.
The pressure was intense, Ren’s length slowly moving in and out while Sho’s sank in ilm by ilm. Rhai'li squirmed and thrashed, getting himself a hiss and a slap from Sho as well as Ren sinking his teeth into the soft join of Rhai'li’s neck and shoulder. Tears streamed from Rhai'li’s eyes to soak his hair and he panted roughly through his open mouth, each breath a low moan.
His cries ramped up in response to the two Raen’s movements, both of them finding a rhythm with remarkable ease that could only have come from multiple times of practice. Ren’s slower thrusts were a counterpoint to Sho’s, the bigger man’s ball slapping against Ren’s and Rhai'li’s flesh as he pounded into the tight but accepting hole.
Other than Ren’s growls and guttural groans, he gave no warning before shooting his seed into Rhai'li. The friction of Sho’s continued thrusts changed, allowing him to go faster and deeper and repeatedly rock Rhai'li to his core. Sho’s hand closed finally around Rhai'li’s dick and tugged, giving Rhai'li the attention he begged for.
Rhai'li made a loud keening noise while Sho buried himself to the hilt and found release, pumping a second hot load into the Miqo'te’s ass. He hit his orgasm just after, spraying thick ropes over his own stomach and chest. All three of them came to a halt, three sets of heavy breathing while each one rode out his pleasure.
Eventually Sho moved, pulling out of Rhai'li and again lifting his now-boneless form so that Ren could move as well. A hot gush followed the removal of the second cock, soaking into the bed beneath Rhai'li when he was put back down. Each Raen took a side, un-cuffing Rhai'li’s wrists and then removing the gag from his mouth. They curled around him, creating a sandwich around the much smaller form.
“That was good,” Ren said cheerfully in perfect common, his chin atop Rhai'li’s head.
My chest measurement is currently 43″. I think it’s realistic to assume a doc can get me down to 34″. I know it’s not something a surgeon can promise because how one’s boobs actually reshape after a smallening is an inexact process. But I do think that if I plan for 34″, it’s likely it’ll be close.
So, I’m gonna commit to the aspirational crochet plan of making tops/dresses that measure for a 34″ bust so that after my smallening, I’ll have cute shit to wear.
I will also focus on items that are intentionally designed with some ease just in case my boobs come out a little bigger. So, a top that measures 34-36 inches gets priority over something that promises to hit 34 exactly.
You ever go shopping and you just keep putting stuff in the cart then when you get home you throw it into the abyss of your room and call it a day? I’m doing this hip new thing called packing to move and I’m starting to think someone should smite me where I stand and take my credit card away.
hypothetically, if i’m making a list of date-related prompts, would you guys be happier with like, a compilation or three separate lists? because i have them divided into categories and i have: things done on a date, places to go on a date, and reasons to go on a date, but i can keep them separate or i can fold them all into one meme and let ye have at it!
This little story belongs to my Christmas project, a series of stories leading up to Christmas Eve! Check my Event Masterlist for more information, and have fun!
A/N: might contain interactions with my MCs Cloverand/orViolet(no spoilers ofc), but you don’t have to know them to understand the story!
Sooooo… Let’s talk demon prince.
Diavolo is known to be generous and friendly towards his loved ones. Sometimes (and by that I mean most times) his urge to spend time with them takes things too far, but really, he means well.
And for such a big big man with a big big heart, Christmas sounded so wonderful. His mind was running wild ever since the group decided to hold a secret Santa, almost physically aching because Diavolo was looking forward to it that much.
He ended up with so many great gift ideas… And might have ended up wrapping all of them in neat wrapping paper.
Now that sounds amazing for the person receiving all this. Really. Just that…
Diavolo happened to pick that one person who’s the worst at recieving gifts…
——–
“Violet!”
Diavolo himself was greeting her at the front door. From the way the door opened literally a second after she rang the bell, it was obvious Diavolo had waited for her right at the entrance in his anticipation.
“Lord Diavolo” the human girl smiled. “Thanks for having me over.”
She stepped inside, surprised to hear when Diavolo invited her into his room. She’d never been there before, so it felt like a big deal.
Diavolo, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear. It had been toture to wait until this day would finally come. He had planned to go all out, dressing up as Santa and surprising Violet by delivering his present at night…
But, well, you’ll see the problem behind that idea very soon.
“It might rather obvious by now, but you are here for the secret Santa project” Diavolo started, shooting her a smile.
She gave a nod. “I thought so, but I’m still very excited to see the idea you came up with.”
“Yes!” the prince agreed.
“I’m excited to see which one you will like the most.”
At first, Violet gave a joyful hum in response.
Then, her brain had processed his words.
“…‘Which one’?”
———————
With mixed feelings, Violet came to a stop in front of Diavolo’s room.
“I’d like you to go first” he cheered.
And so she did…
Her jaw dropped.
There were… were… So many… Presents…
'Too many’ a thought shot through Violet’s mind in panic.
“Come on, don’t be shy!” Diavolo pushed her inside. “Take one and unwrap it!”
Completely dazzled, the girl couldn’t stop staring.
There were six wrapped gifts in her vision.
Six.
“U-uhm…”
She felt Diavolo’s amber eyes gaze at her eagerly.
“Violet? Is there a problem?”
“N-no…” she mumbled. “I’m j-just… Overwhelmed…”
“Hahaha!” Diavolo seemed very amused. “That’s adorable. But no need to be. Here…” He took a gentle hold of her hand, putting the smallest present box in them. “Start with this one.”
Violet brought herself to unwrap the pretty, silver glistening paper. She looked at a box of sweets.
“Madam Screams is only selling those in winter” Diavolo said. “I found it suiting for a Christmas gift to buy something seasonal. I know you are not particularly fond of sweets, but I feel quite confident that those will please you nonetheless.”
“They look very delicious” Violet hummed.
Oh well, if all presents turned out to be such small little treats, Violet might be fine with the amount after all.
…
If I may kindly drop a spoiler,
They weren’t.
Violet was handed the next gift.
A 'home spa box’, consisting of bath bombs, creams for face and body, a shower gel. They appeared rather expensive, very high quality at least.
“These smell amazing!” Violet gasped.
“Oh, I’m glad. There were three boxes that all looked amazing. For a moment, I thought of getting all of them, but it seems that I was able to make the right choice.”
Violet swallowed heavily. “Y-yeah…”
The next gift followed.
“A trenchcoat” Diavolo explained as the hem of its fabric showed under the wrapping paper. “My tailor made it out of material from his own silk farm. It should keep you warm during the winter days.” The prince seemed so excited, he asked her to try it on.
It fitted perfectly, and the dark blue fabric shimmered softly in the room’s light.
“Do you like it?” Diavolo asked.
Violet could only nod.It looked amazing, yes.
But seeing herself wearing such a luxurious coat, she… it…
The next present followed before the guilt could properly form in her stomach.
“A… Viola?” Violet asked.
The answer was an enthusiastic nod.
“Yes!” Diavolo cheered. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if one day, you would be able to play alongside Lucifer’s piano play? I want to be the first one to hear you two perform together! Promise me that, please?”
The girl’s cheeks flushed red at the thought. “Of course”, she mumbled.
“Now this one!"Diavolo pointed at the largest package.
And as it turned out, the large package contained four items in total. An easel, a canvas already placed on it, a brush set as well as a set of oil paint.
Diavolo kept watching her with a smile.
"I admire how you draw and paint, so I’d like to increase your artistic horizon. Have you ever worked with oil paint?”
The girl shook her head.
“Great!” The demon cheered. “If I may ask that much of you, I would love to see the art you create with this.”
She tried to, but Violet’s voice wouldn’t form a single word. As she kept looking around, she couldn’t process the mass of things that Diavolo just gifted her like that. Of course, he was a prince, so this might be a completely normal amount for him, but… For her, as some random human, she wasn’t used to this…
“Where’s the next one?” Diavolo suddenly called out. His gaze stopped at the open window. “Oh…”
Stepping towards it, Diavolo stuck his head out, blowing a loud whistle before coming back to her.
“Please, wait a moment.”
So they did, in a moment of silence.
Then, Diavolo stretched out his arm, and seconds after, a bird flew into the room and landed on said arm.
Violet stared at the owl with eyes at least as big as the animal’s. It looked like a black barn owl from the human world.
The owl had a cute, red ribbon tied around it’s foot.
“I heard you like those majestic little creatures” Diavolo explained. “And before you worry, this little fella is from the Devildom, yes, but completely harmless. Once we show him your room as it’s new home, it will come back for warmth and love in the evenings.”
Watching Violet’s baffled expression, Diavolo couldn’t help but chuckle. “Go ahead, try to pet it!”
Carefully, she approached the animal, touching it’s soft feathers and letting out a tiny squeal at the amazing feeling.
The owl gave a screeching noise itself, however it seemed happy.
After a little while, Diavolo cleared his throat.
“Violet… I wish you a merry Christmas.”
“Th… Thank you” Violet brought herself to say. “I’m v-very grateful for… For all this…”
She looked around the room again.
And as she turned around, looking up into Diavolo’s eyes, she knew she was supposed to smile. She wanted to, really. But her lips were trembling and she felt tears forming in her eyes.
“… Violet?” Diavolo called out in surprise. “What’s wrong? Are you not satisfied with your presents?”
And his soft, concerned voice was too much to bear.
“Th-that’s not it…” She mumbled, shaking her head. “Every single present is lovely, and I feel that you have put thought and warmth into them. B-but… I’m not used to… To someone…g…giv…”
Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat, careful to keep her tears away.
“Have you not received presents before?” Diavolo made the owl fly to its place so he could focus on her only.
“I’ve never received so many, so expensive, so wonderful presents” Violet explained. “I’m not used to that, and it feels weird.”
Now Diavolo was the one to loose his words.
So Violet continued.
“Weird, and… And somehow, it feels wrong… So much money and effort spent on me… That’s… I… Don’t know how to deal with that…”
Violet was really trying to hold back her tears, not wanting to appear like a crybaby in addition to every other way she must be disappointing Diavolo right now.
“Is it because I’m royalty?”, Diavolo suddenly asked. “Does that make you feel uncomfortable?”
“Wha…? No, that’s not it! Really, I-I respect you as a prince, but other than that, I treat you as a friend, so…” Violet bit her lip. “You’re not the problem… I am.”
Narrowing her gaze, Violet wouldn’t dare meet his eyes again. Yeah, what a friend she was, not appreciating all he did for her, despite not having to give her this much in the least.
“Violet” the demon called out. “Please allow me to give you my last present.”
With that, he took one of her hands into both of his.
Raising it, he pressed her knuckles against his lips, mumbling words in a language the human did not understand.
He let go of her after pressing a soft kiss on her skin, now revealing a special pact mark around her wrist.
“Royal demons are forbidden to form pacts with humans” Diavolo spoke up. “However, we are allowed to give what we call a promise…”
Violet looked at her wrist. A black, vine-like tattoo decorated her skin. It did not feel like the mark she got from the pact with Lucifer, from a 'real’ pact apparently. But there was a weird tingle coming off of it.
The girl looked up in confusion.
“And I wanted to give you one” Diavolo said. “I am certain with Lucifer at your side, you won’t ever need my help, but if you ever find yourself in despair, you may use this promise, and I will find you.”
Violet’s eyes widened.
“But… Why… Why me? Isn’t that way too much for a Christmas presen-”
“I have not decided to make this promise because of the secret Santa project…” Diavolo chimed in. “… But because I truly think of you as an extraordinary person, Violet. And if I can help treasure and protect you in some way, I will.”
Hearing this, she couldn’t stop her tears anymore.
“I don’t… understand…” she mumbled.
Diavolo chuckled. “I don’t think it is necessary for you to understand my feelings, but I kindly ask you to accept them.”
He spread his arms, with an expression hoping for her to do the same. So she walked into the hug, now completely engulfed by the tall demon.
“Thank you so much, Diavolo” Violet mumbled into his chest.
The prince smiled a soft smile. “I thank you, for accepting me. For treating me like a friend.”
I always thought the fight club was such a basic film to have as a favourite. But after watching it I can completely understand why. I will also be reading the book
Want Frankenstein bit by bit in your email twice a week starting in February of 2023? We’re doing this Dracula Daily style! Twice a week (Wednesday and Sunday) I’ll drop a section of the book, in written order, in your email and we’ll meme poor Victor and cheer on Adam together! If you want to join in this, this is your chance to sign up!
I think substack will have an archive for anyone late to the party, but hopefully by spreading the word now (May 2022), we can all start together on February 1 2023. February 1 was chosen because it’s after Dracula Daily ends, and also Mary Shelley’s death anniversary. I think she’d like this shenanigans. She’d have a blast with tumblr!
Anyway, please join us in the fun and feel free to reblog this so word gets out with the sign up link!
A/N: hi guys. Yamato is your secret admirer and you are desperate to find out who’s been leaving all these gifts at your doorstep. Civilian reader. Will be two parts, and since i just found out i have the coronavirus and cant leave the house, i’ll be putting out the second part very soon.
Ps i headcanon that yamato would be very shy and awkward with his crush. i also think that when he is nervous he definitely has really sweaty hands. idk thats just the vibe i get from him lol. please enjoy.
Word count: 4500
Y/N walked down the street after a long day of working in the bakery, kneading dough and icing cakes and sweets. It was a great job, and she really enjoyed the company of the two elderly owners. In her arms was another small picnic basket filled with sourdoughs and garlic loaves and cinnamon raisin buns. Those leftovers served as her breakfast, lunch, and dinner most days and it saved a lot of money on groceries.
Sometimes, she gifted the bread to friends and family though, like tonight.
As she walked the bustling streets, people walking home from work for the night, she noticed a couple of familiar faces sitting in the windows of a nearby restaurant. Feeling a little social, she walked into the restaurant and turned the corner, walking through the tables and past other booths full of people talking and drinking. It was busy tonight in Konoha, everyone getting ready for the weekend.
She came to a stop beside their table, and shifted so her basket rested in the slight curve of her hip. With her free hand she waved to the men, a small smile gracing her lips.
“Kakashi, Yamato,” she chirped, “I saw you guys in the window on my way home from work and thought I’d stop in to say hello.”
“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.” Kakashi hummed, peering over his glass of golden liquid at his friend, who he could tell was struggling to figure out what to say or do. Yamato wasn’t normally nervous; he was very cool headed. How else would he become such an important Anbu member? But around Y/N, this woman with flour dusted in her hair and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate on her clothes, he crumbled. Just that smell alone could make Yamato lose his composure. And Kakashi knew that very well. “As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you.”
Yamato coughed on his drink, covering his mouth with his arm to keep from spitting up on the table. Even if they were just talking about her, it was completely uncalled for for Kakashi to stab him in the back like that. He turned to face the young woman who looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.
“Really? What about?” she questioned, raising a brow.
He averted his eyes to the table again where his hand rested clutching at the glass. “We were just discussing the bakery,” he explained sheepishly, a hand going to rub the back of his neck. He felt the stress coming on, and sweat was beginning to gather on his palms. He felt ill, and more importantly, upset with the friend sitting directly across from him, smirking under that damn mask.
What an evil bastard.
“Mind if I join you guys? I could definitely use a drink.” She motioned to the seat next to Yamato, and he scooted closer to the wall to make room for her. She made sure her basket was sealed and secure before reaching over the table to Kakashi. “Can you sit this next to you? I don’t wanna take up the whole table.”
“No problem.”
She slid into the seat beside Yamato, and he realized just how small their table really was. The chair was clearly made for one person, or maybe two small people. They were just inches away. He could literally feel the heat of her thigh beside his. He was losing his mind, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no reason to act or think this way just because of a woman, a little baker from the village. No reason. It was inappropriate.
He took a deep breath and sipped on his drink. Everything was cool. Y/N L/N was cool.
“What kind of goods are you bringing home tonight?” Yamato asked calmly.
“Uh, lets see. A sourdough loaf and a garlic rosemary loaf. Also, I have about eight cinnamon buns in there,” she listed off the top of her head, “Why? You wanna take some home with you, because that’s fine. I’m not gonna eat all of it.”
“No, not this time.”
“You, Kakashi?”
“Yeah, I’ll take whatever.” It was a free meal for the next day? How could he say no to that?
The waitress came around, and Y/N ordered a tall glass of some sweet drink, something she knew wouldn’t taste like shit but would get her all warm and cozy quick, fruit juice covering up the taste of poison. “So, what were you guys talking about before I came around? I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“It’s good you came around, actually. We could use a woman’s opinion here.” Yamato glared at Kakashi, pleading with everything he had for the copy nin to just leave it alone. Kakashi was set in his goals though, and pushed forward with what he was saying. “It’s about Tenzo.”
An even brighter smile grew on her lips, one full of mischief and curiosity. “Oohoho? I see. What’s got you men stuck?” She loved to gossip, it was just something so interesting in her mundane life. Surely, it wasn’t as interesting to shinobi who almost die all the time and always have something to do, but for a village girl who goes home every night to read and eat bread, and then go to work where she just makes and sells said bread, a bit of juicy personal information really intrigued her.
“It’s honestly not a big deal-”
“Our boy here, he’s got a crush.”
Her eyes widened and suddenly, she felt the urge to down even more of her drink. He was interested in someone? She never expected that. He was always so quiet and calm, and kept to himself. He didn’t seem like the type to ever care about someone in that way. She sighed, taking a long sip on her drink, which tasted like peaches and oranges. At least it was sweet enough to help her curb the impending sadness.
Maybe she was stupid for it, but she cared for Yamato. He was such a sweet and kind man, so earnest and gentle. He was everything good about her mornings, when he would walk in and ask for the same hot cross bun to start his day. He would smile and compliment the cake decorating she was working on, and tell her about his missions and what he had to do for the day.
Perhaps Y/N had the tiniest of crushes on Yamato. It was something she would never reveal to anyone else, but it was true. She couldn’t deny herself that fact.
Kakashi stared at the woman, gauging her reaction to the statement. From the way she immediately went to sip away half of the drink in her glass, and the way her shoulders curled in on themselves, he could guess how she was feeling. He wasn’t usually a fan of meddling in other people’s business, but he was beginning to feel tired of Yamato complaining day in and day out about how he could never get the girl or express his feelings. He was afraid of rejection, as sad as that might be.
He was just there to give them a push in the right direction.
“I see.”
“What do you think he should do? What do the civilian girls like?”
This crush was just another civilian. It would be one thing if he fell in love with a kunoichi, someone she would never be able to compete with, but the thought of him choosing another normal woman over her, the envy practically oozed from her pores. What did this other girl have that Y/N didn’t?
Y/N ordered another drink when the waitress walked by. And then another after she drank the second one. Might as well get more down and drown out these jealous thoughts.
Meanwhile, she listed off things that random women normally like when men do for them, things she didn’t really care about like chocolates and asking them out to dinner and giving them stuffed animals. Boring things. Things they all already knew. Kakashi agreed that the advice was kinda bland, and he could have come up with that easily.
Yamato eyed her down nervously as she practically chugged the rest of her drink. The woman wasn’t a big drinker, just a couple innocent cocktails here or there, never with the intention of getting drunk.
“You okay, Y/N?”
“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she told him smoothly. “Anyway, I’m not done telling you all about us village girls.”
The third drink came by and she sighed, taking another long sip. At least it tasted good, that made it easy to drink and drink and drink.
“Maybe you should slow down.”
“Maybe you should worry about yourself. I’m grown. I can handle myself, Yamato.” He felt a pang in his chest at her sharp words, ones that he’d never really heard directed toward him. She scolded Kakashi on the daily for being a pervert, but only kind words met Yamato’s ears previously. “Anyway, about this girl. Have you tried getting her anything as a gift? The things I listed before? Love notes? That sorta thing?”
He shook his head. “Well, no. I haven’t tried anything yet.”
“That’s the thing about you, Tenzo. You’re so modest. If you want the girl, you need to go in and get her. You need to show her what she means to you, since you can’t bring yourself to just outright tell her.”
“The whole bold displays of affection aren’t my thing.”
She hummed, her head lolling from side to side as she twirled the straw of her drink in between her fingers. “Maybe you should try some roundabout approach since you’re so scared of rejection. Send her anonymous letters and gifts, give her little clues that it’s you and see how she reacts.”
“Like a secret admirer?“
“Exactly! That’s sooo romantic. I wish some guy would do that shit for me.”
Kakashi raised a brow. “Oh, really?”
“Of course. I’m almost 27 and I’ve never had a long lasting relationship. I just want some guy to really, I don’t know, just love me. Love who I am, not hook up with me for my body or-or only pretend to like me for coupons on bread,” she complained, quite loudly as well. “Fuck those guys and their bread discounts…”
“Y/N-”
“I’d suggest you do something like that for your crush. Make her feel like you really care about her mind and soul.” Y/N clutched her hand over her heart and squeezed the front of her dress. “So many men nowadays act like horny teenagers, and us ladies are sick of it.”
She really did not need to go into such detail, and Yamato could tell she was drinking too much. Y/N would never say these things aloud if she were completely in her right mind. He felt rude just sitting there letting her rant on and on, exposing her own feelings to the table. But at the same time, he was grateful to know what she wanted in a lover. She never really let on what her romantic life was like, other than single for the most part.
That is what he and Kakashi were discussing before she came around. He was desperate to sweep her off her feet and woo her, to make revealing his feelings easier. Kakashi told him to just go to the bakery and tell her right then and there, but that was just too bold. He wasn’t going to go in without a plan, it was irrational.
“Yamato, I’m telling you, if this woman rejects you, she’s fucking stupid. You’re a catch. You and Kashi over there, both of you could get any woman you want, and that’s a fact.” the woman waved her hand to emphasize her point, only to knock the rest of her fourth drink over into her lap, sticky syrup soaking into her apron and through to her skirt. “Oh man.”
“I think it’s time for you to head home, little miss Y/N,” Kakashi chimed in, “This is exactly why we don’t bring you to bars, you know.”
“Shush. I am fine.”
Yamato sighed, motioning with his hands for her to move to the edge of the seat. He rolled his eyes at her words, knowing she was talking out the ass. “Yeah, yeah. Just get up, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”
Both men were surprised when she lifted her hand and pushed him away from her. Her glare was intense, anger behind those eyes. “No! Not you. I want Kakashi to walk me home.” The man was taken aback by the harshness in her tone. She was normally calm tempered, but her head was spinning and she was obviously growing moody.
“That’s fine by me. Yamato, you’ll pick up the bill for us and uh, clean this mess, right?” Kakashi smirked as he slid out from the booth and picked up her bag of baked goods. She followed suit, climbing out of her seat and grabbing onto the shinobi’s arm tightly. He really couldn’t care any less about her nonsense. It had been so long since they became friends, he’d seen her in every mood imaginable, and much drunker than this. He’s walked her home more than a few times in their past years.
“Curse you, cheap-ass.”
“Gotta go.”
With that, the white haired man walked out the restaurant with a woman in tow. They lived in the same direction, so he started down the street as she stumbled after him, tripping occasionally on pebbles. He felt bad for his friend, really. But the answer was clear as day now. Y/N cared for Yamato a lot more than she let on. It was just up to one of them to make a move. He couldn’t do everything for them.
She tripped along beside him, letting her head fall against his shoulder a few times. Her eyes slid up to the man’s masked face, and he felt her hands begin to quiver a bit around his arm, just a tiny bit, but it was still there. Those little, very-telling, tremors.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked gently, knowing she would immediately spill whatever was stuck on her mind.
“Kashi, why does Tenzo want some other village girl?” she questioned, her cheeks puffing out and her eyes getting watery with tears. “Why doesn’t he want me? I want him so badly, it hurts right here.” she placed her free hand over her stomach and gagged. “I might throw up, it hurts so much.”
“Trust me, it’s gonna be okay,” he hushed, a tiny smile on his lips. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her, but it was just so amusing pulling the strings like this. Two of his friends, one a subordinate and the other a sneaky baker, falling for each other right in front of him. With all the work piling up, this was definitely a refreshing take.
“Also, you shouldn’t throw up. It’ll burn your throat, you know.”
She nodded, and just clutched onto her stomach as they made their way down the narrow alleyways toward her small apartment. He unlocked the door for her when she struggled to fit the key into the tiny hole that blurred together with everything else. He was a good friend, she thought, and made a mental note to thank him next time she saw him. Well, she tried to make a mental note, but when her body hit the mattress in the corner of her small studio, she found herself drifting away.
__________
God, her head hurt so badly she thought her skull was cracking open right then and there, as she lifted her head from her pillow. Light shined in through the window only to make things worse than before. She looked around the room and noticed that her coat was hung up properly on the hook and her shoes were sitting by the door. Her basket rested atop her counter.
Most importantly, on her nightstand sat a glass of water and a couple pills, ready for her to take the moment she woke up. Kakashi or Yamato must have walked her home and put her to bed. They were very nice men, she enjoyed having them as friends, she just worried she had made a drunken fool of herself last night in front of them. She rarely drank heavily, for that reason. She couldn’t even remember what happened, just that she met them at the restaurant and then the rest fell empty in her mind, little images blending together until she couldn’t decipher a thing that happened. She was more than ashamed.
How could she lose control of herself so casually, she wondered. She never even wanted to drink, much less enough to give her this searing headache. Something must have happened last night that influenced her decisions. Maybe she had a drinking contest with Kakashi like that one time before. If so, that was completely uncalled for on the man’s part. He knew her tolerance.
Nevertheless, she needed to get ready for work. A hangover wasn’t enough to heed the workings of the bakery.
She took the pills, and threw off her covers, walking over to her counter to take out one of the cinnamon rolls, taking a big bite to curb her hunger pains. After taking a moment to compose herself, she got ready for work. If she was late, she knew the owners would be forgiving, but she still felt bad regardless. She was going to walk in looking like a complete disaster.
As she headed out her door that morning, she stumbled on something sitting right at the foot of her doorstep on the welcome mat. Resting there, in a tiny little ceramic pot, stood a bonsai tree, trimmed and cared for perfectly. Her eyes scanned the area for who could have set it there, but met only empty space.
Hesitantly, she picked it up and brought it into her home. There was no note attached, nothing to signal who’d given it to her. Just a little tree that she would put on her window sill. It was strange, she had to admit that, to receive an anonymous gift at such an hour. She’d have to ask her friends about it later on to see if one of them had given it to her, for reasons she didn’t know.
But as the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, she continued to receive gifts every few days. More tiny trees in pots, sometimes flowers in little glass vases. None of them at first had anything attached until the most recent piece which when she picked it up to take into her home, a folded piece of paper sat beneath the vase. She made sure to pick it and put it in her apron to read on her break when she went to work. She didn’t have the time when she woke up only about 20 minutes before she was due at her job.
She was more than grateful for the little garden she was accumulating on her window sill, the beautiful flowers and trees somehow surviving despite her little knowledge of taking care of them. She stopped by a flower store in town to get some fertilizer just to keep them alive. It would be a shame if they died since someone was being so kind as to give them to her.
With her boring life, the flowers brought a smile to her face and a warmth in her heart that she hadn’t felt before. Regardless of who was leaving the items there, she felt like she was important to someone. Some person was taking time out of their day to show they cared about her.
Truthfully, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished it was Yamato leaving her gifts. She’d been attracted to the man for quite some time, ever since they met really. He was just so strong and brave, and awkward in a cute kind of way. He was truly the only man of her affections, and she could only dream she was the object of his as well.
It was more than unlikely though. He was a strong ninja of the leaf. The chances of someone that amazing wanting to be with someone as simple as the town baker were lower than she wanted to admit. He most likely had his eyes set on some gorgeous kunoichi like Shizune or Kurenai. Someone he could relate to, really.
It was embarrassing to even admit she had a crush on him. It made her feel so tiny and weak, knowing that she wasn’t his ideal.
So she pushed that thought from her mind. Yamato would never be interested in her, and he most certainly not the one leaving her little notes and plants.
What she did know was that this person was a shinobi. Maybe not Yamato, but they were definitely a shinobi. She set up a trap, at least one she thought a normal person would fall for. Right before her door, she set up a tiny trip wire made of floss at the perfect level for someone to pull loose when they walked up to leave a gift on her welcome mat. Her room was at the very end of the hallway, so there was no way anyone else except her secret admirer was the one to set off the trap. Any normal person without the high perception of a shinobi would set off the trap and she would be able to narrow down the results to a civilian.
Only, the morning after she set up the trip wire, when she opened her door, there sat another bouquet of flowers, as well as an untripped strip of floss.
This person had to be a shinobi. She concluded. It was the only explanation in her mind, desperate to find out who the mystery person was all this time.
As she walked the streets that afternoon after the store had closed, her eyes honed in on Yamato, who stood next to a vegetable stand picking up some groceries. Immediately, she turned on her heel and cornered him between the squash and the sweet potatoes.
“Yamato, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Do you mind?” she practically demanded, and his eyes widened. He did not expect such an abrupt conversation between them. He shifted awkwardly to rest his grocery bag in the crook of his elbow and lean on his left side, arms crossed over his chest.
He knew what she wanted to talk about. It was about those gifts that he had been giving her. It was just a matter of whether she had figured out it was him or not, that was the question. He was kinda hoping she didn’t know yet. He was not ready to face what came after the reveal, rejection or otherwise. He really hadn’t thought it that far out yet. How could he. Just thinking up love notes and what plants to give her next was more than enough to worry about.
But damn, when he looked down at her, hair dusted with flour from a days work, a smudge of cake batter still on her forearm, apron a complete mess, he wanted to cave and tell her everything. She was just so beautiful, so clumsily perfect he couldn’t help but lose his train of thought. He swore he’d never seen a woman more perfect than her, not even Naruto’s sexy jutsu could come close to this girl.
He found his ears heating up and no doubt turning red at the thoughts running through his mind, and he was quick to smother them down. He was not irrationally emotional. Hell, he was ANBU, he should be able to control his emotions down to a tee.
“Yes, Y/N?”
“I have a secret admirer, and I know they are a shinobi.”
He felt himself growing nervous. How had she deduced that? “Ah, that’s definitely exciting for you. How do you know it’s a shinobi?”
“I know because I set up a tripwire last night and the person didn’t set it off, so I know they are coordinated enough to avoid it. This isn’t just some random village boy. This is someone skilled.”
“Y/N, he could have very well just avoided the trap with his natural gait, don’t you think?” he tried to reason with her, try to get her off his trail. Admittedly, he thought she was quite clever for setting up the trap. When he walked over it the night before, he swore it was just a spider web. He didn’t even consider the possibility of a trap in his way.
If only he could throw her off his scent. He needed more time. He couldn’t confess to her now. It was too abrupt, too sudden. He would probably die.
“No, I’m convinced it’s a shinobi.”
Shit. “Well, what are you going to do now?”
She thought for a short moment on what she was going to say, tapping her foot on the ground beside her. Her eyes widened and she smiled at the thought that ran through her mind. Of course, it was so obvious. “The gifts come sporadically, so I know that the shinobi can’t leave gifts when they are on missions. Next time there is a long break in gifts, I will just ask around to figure out who has been on a mission for a while. Bam, I’ve got my answer. It’s foolproof.”
She really had thought this through more than him. She was too good, and he felt himself panicking. He had a weeklong mission in 3 days, and if she asked anyone, they would tell her it was him. He felt moisture gather up at his brow, and he internally cursed his situation. He had to find some way out of this mess without her figuring out it was him.
“Yeah, that could definitely work. I hope it all works out for you, Y/N,” he lied through his teeth.
“I know. I’m just smart like that, aren’t I?”
“You sure are,” he muttered, but honestly, he just wanted to go off and find Kakashi. He needed to talk to him. His eyes slid away from Y/N and he sighed. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“Yeah, of course. Don’t forget to stop by before your next mission to get some of our special food pills, okay? I just made a new batch and you can try them free of charge. Anything for a fella as handsome as yourself.” She laughed, shifting her weight to press a hand to her hip.
Jeez.There was no good reason for her looking so adorable. Calling him handsome as well? It was all too much for his heart to handle. Needless to say, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t walk away right then. With that, he simply nodded before patting her shoulder. “Like I said, gotta go.”
“Oh, okay. See you around.”
“See you.”
He walked away quickly, heading in the direction of Kakashi’s apartment, knowing he just had to do something about the mess he was currently in, and ways to avoid the inevitable. His heart was racing so fast he thought he might be having a heart attack. How could he be swayed so easily by a pretty face. He had no idea, but he really wanted it to stop. For the sake of his sanity, he needed to learn to be calm around her.
He would tell her soon, get all this off his chest and share his true feelings. He just needed a bit more time.
Dracula really does include one of each kind of guy. You’ve got your Foodie Lawyer, your Career Gal, your Sweet Angel Everyone Wants to Marry, your Nervous Doctor, your Texan, your Dashing Suitor, your Fucked-Up and Evil Moustache Guy, and his Three Weed Smoking Girlfriends. Bram is covering all the bases, a little something for everybody
#and soon to be announced: Sea Captain; Fly Farmer; Dutch X Files-Truther: Graveyard Fella With Incomprehensible Accent #the only thing missing is wizard hippie burn-out and then we’ve got ourselves a dnd party (via @cascadiums)
“White supremacy is the conscious or unconscious belief or the investment in the inherent superiority of some, while others are believed to be innately inferior. And it doesn’t demand the individual participation of the singular bigot. It is a machine operating in perpetuity, because it doesn’t demand that somebody be in place driving.” -Michael Eric Dyson
There should never be a situation where my life is more valuable than my girlfriend’s, or my mother’s is more important than my future mother-in-law’s. That is the moment, whether with the police or judicial system or housing or hiring, when white lives matter too much. ✊✊✊✊
I am working on setting up an online store in the next month or so and it will include all of my Disney Resists prints! 10% of everything in my shop will go to the ACLU and other civil rights groups putting in the time this past year
I disagree with this. Every life matters as much as the next.
That’s the whole point of the BLM movement. I see that you’re German so maybe it’s not your fault that you don’t understand US racial dynamics or police brutality or hiring and housing discrmination, but if that’s the case you shouldn’t really be commenting on them.
cute date idea: we fly to paris for the weekend. we eat breakfast on a balcony overlooking the city. we listen to live jazz. we roam the streets at night laughing about nothing and everything. we come up with an elaborate imaginary plan to never leave, and it’s silly and it’s unrealistic, but we still hope it might come true.
