alicesfracturedmirror

[alicesfracturedmirror]

pov: you wake up to your bf using one of your razors bc he forgot his at home

[alicesfracturedmirror]

rb to kiss karasu's mole

[alicesfracturedmirror]

rb to kiss karasu's mole

[alicesfracturedmirror]

𝐴 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 @alicesfracturedmirror

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒅! 💐

[alicesfracturedmirror]

pokèmonize yourself!!!!

spin this wheel to see your pokemon type

spin this one to see how you'll look like

[alicesfracturedmirror]

if you were a romanceable/ friendshippable character in a farming sim what gifts would you need to receive to boost your approval rating. asking because i just received two (2) cannolis, unprompted, and i could physically feel my serotonin increasing and i did gasp out loud

[alicesfracturedmirror]

yeah it's called my mutuals circle on tumblr

[alicesfracturedmirror]

There is definitely some back and forth bickering over noticing the envelope, even more so opening it, but I pluck it between their fingers and open it myself. First question immediately makes me take a big drink of water to stall answering this question, feeling flushed embarrassment on my cheeks as they both look at me. "Confidence and loyalty" as I point to both of them, motioning to Hoshina "compassion" and then Narumi "resilience". I refuse to look at Hoshina smiling slyly at the top of my head and Narumi preening while playing an arm on the back of my chair.

As to the second question, I'm not one for flashy or expensive gifts, I prefer those from the heart. From Narumi, he might not find flashy enough but I never hear him complain about having stolen one of his worn in sweatshirts I wear around his office and room, especially while he is gaming. From Hoshina it's a very cute mug I can use for my teas and cocoas while I work, something that matches one of his own so it's like we are together even when apart.

Welcome back to the Kita-non greenhouse! We've missed you!

Come in and mingle with the girl gang for a bit before choosing your paired seats.

Your date's and your favourite drinks are set down in front of you, along with platters of hors d'oeuvres for the table. We cheers to mark the start of the soirée, to our dates for accompanying us, and to the girl gang because, frankly, we're amazing!

Your date notices a small envelope under your glass but not his, and picks it up, looking at it curiously as you take and open the envelope.

There are two cards inside for you to answer about your date:

What is the most attractive quality about him? What is the best gift he has ever given you?

While there are some couples here who may be newer, now is the chance to woo her (and perhaps us, a little) with your potential answers, if this is territory you have not yet traversed.

@alicesfracturedmirror @captain-hawks @cheesypuffkins87 @mangostarjam @ryescapades

[alicesfracturedmirror]

I am absolutely attending, allergy meds and all! The easiest way to my heart is getting me fake flowers (so I don't sneeze all over you) and extra swooning if you get Osiris roses (two toned roses).

While one arm easily grabs Hoshina's the other, shockingly, I will bring Narumi too as well. Might as well give him a chance and see if he can play nice with everyone...

Knock knock! Delivery!

The honour of your presence is requested~

You and four (4) guests are cordially invited to the Kita-non greenhouse for our annual valentine soirée.

Please rsvp here if you would like to attend, and include the names of your dates below.

We look forward to seeing everyone again!

💜🌻🌻kita-non

@alicesfracturedmirror @captain-hawks @cheesypuffkins87 @mangostarjam @ryescapades

[alicesfracturedmirror]

I am back in hoshina territory. He is beautiful. He is back.

Kbye!! 💜🌻🌻

Welcome, your home in Hoshina territory is always maintained and upkeep is constant. Have some fresh cookies and some manga panels for your return

[alicesfracturedmirror]

can i get a love combo with a large friendship

[alicesfracturedmirror]

Ayyyy love the tag : D

For me I plan to match my goal of 52 books this year and these are some of them (and their respected series). I enjoyed These Violent Delights so I’m curious to see how Foul Lady Fortune goes. I’ve had Daughter of the Moon Goddess and We Free the Stars on my TBR for a long time so finally going to get to them. I adore Elizabeth Lim so excited for her next book. Like @c-qcat I’ve put off OUABH because I love Caraval so much but I’m going to get to it. I’ve also wanted to read more science non-fiction and these are all topics I’ve been fascinated with for a long time. I’ve got a lot of reading coming up I’m excited about!

Tagging my squad @captain-hawks @mangostarjam @ryescapades @amuus-bouche @cheesypuffkins87

Got tagged by @carve-thy-name to post 9 books I plan to read this year. Thank you darling, I like this idea! My New Year’s resolution for myself was to commit to the new.

I’ve been stuck in a terrible rut this past year, always rereading and relistening to the same old stuff. I think I listened to only TWO new podcasts I didn’t make/participate in myself. And I didn’t listen to more than 7 episodes of either of them.

So, this year I’m committing to listening to one new episode and one chapter of a new book each week. I may run out of books on the to be read pile that way!

I’m not sure about finishing all of them- I’ve gotten out of Leigh Bardugo but I loved her in high school and a friend recommended this one to me.

I have to finish Chasing Shadows because it was lent to me in like July and I realized I cannot read a book about shark attacks when I’m swimming in the ocean 4 times a week.

The othered are new to me! Excited to dive in.

I don’t interact on tumblr so I’m not sure who to tag… let’s say. @ten0rreaper @pepohki @superhumanfoods @mankillercalledbunny and @c-qcat

[alicesfracturedmirror]

Your choice of character darling and dirty talking

18+

"you sure are wet for someone that hates me."

the amusement in narumi's voice would be infuriating anywhere else, any other time. if he wasn't currently two fingers deep in the slick heat between your legs, digits curling in a way that almost feels smug while you're dripping all over the palm of his goddamn hand.

you can't even argue, not when the only sounds that you're capable of sliding off of your tongue right now are breathy little pants. ridiculous, needy moans that you'll probably be mortified over tomorrow.

that's a problem for later, though—the fact that captain gen narumi is finger fucking you in a supply closet.

the fact that you're letting him.

the fact that you're practically drooling in his mouth as he murmurs against your parted lips, "you probably want another finger, huh? you're so goddamn tight, i bet you need more—"

you gasp against his mouth when he slips in a third, pouring a hot wave of pleasure over your already-frayed neves, and he groans at the way your teeth unconsciously sink into his bottom lip.

"—think i could come in my pants right now—"

"—fuck you, narumi," you pant out over his own declaration, pathetically moaning around the syllables of his name.

he laughs, thumb stroking the pebble of your swollen clit.

"god, i fucking love when you're mean to me."

[alicesfracturedmirror]

hair down!karasu

“you’re so distracting,” you grouse as you feel your roommate’s chin come to rest on top of your head, your fingers stilling over your keyboard mid-sentence. 

“‘m bored,” karasu sighs. “and ya spelled specific wrong.”

tilting your head upward, you glare up at him while whacking the backspace key more aggressively than necessary with your middle finger, “because you distracted me!”

he stands back up, chuckling to himself and sauntering off into the kitchen to inevitably make more noise while you sacrifice what remains of your late-semester soul to the research paper gods. 

to be fair, the issue of him being a distraction is less about his shuffling and tittering about the apartment in boredom and moreso just about…him. 

well, a very specific part of him. 

you’ve been friends with karasu for years, you’re close. exceptionally close, you’d argue. and when the entire first floor of your dorm building flooded out last week, he offered you the spare room in his apartment—no questions asked.

it’s a temporary arrangement, so really, it should pose no risk to the neat and tidy little drawer that you keep your attraction to him shoved into the dark corners of. spending a few weeks underfoot with his warm accent, pretty eyes, dry humor, and gravely laugh shouldn’t kill you.

you’re been compartmentalizing it all like a champ for years, after all.

if subterfuge of unrequited pining was an olympic sport—

but you underestimated one tiny issue that you hadn’t quite thought out the consequences of when presented with the opportunity to cohabitate with karasu tabito. 

one little thing—

his hair.

his at home hair. 

his i’m not leaving the house or seeing anyone today hair. 

his clean, completely product-free, ridiculously attractive hair—which falls softly across his forehead, tickling the bridge of his nose. which flits along the shell of his ears and rests against the back of his neck.

(which makes you want to run for the hills and jump into his arms and flee the country and kiss him until you can’t breathe and—)

it’s funny, really, when you think about it. the fact that you’ve actually never seen karasu without styling wax in his hair somehow. it feels somewhat ridiculous thinking it out loud. 

but restricted exposure throughout the duration of your friendship thus far was clearly for the better, given the way you haven’t been able to stop glancing over at him every two minutes since he got out of the shower three hours ago. since he padded into the living room in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and plopped down on the other end of the couch, idly scrolling through his phone and entirely unaware of the crisis he’d unknowingly thrust upon your unsuspecting, fragile mind. 

because here’s the thing—on a normal day, you can squash them down, these inconvenient feelings of attraction. the way your heart flutters feebly against your ribcage at the sound of his voice, at the curve of his lips when you say something ridiculous that makes him smile. 

at the way he says your name, how you always seem to be the first person he calls after games. how he falls asleep with his head in your lap when you watch movies, the way he doesn’t even have to ask what you want when you’re ordering food or getting coffee because he just knows. 

but this. 

this. 

he’s sitting on the other end of the couch again, lazily running a hand through his hair and blowing it out of his eyes every so often while he taps away at a game on his phone. 

and yeah, you’ve never been quite so attracted to him as in this moment.

it’s not even just the fact that his hair is down, even though the back of your neck has yet to stop burning at the sight of it. 

it’s the undeniable domesticity of it all that has your heart racing in your chest. 

that has your fingers itching to toss your laptop aside, to crawl across the expanse of cushions and into his lap—

“please tell me you’re almost done,” karasu interrupts your treacherous train of thought. 

you find him on his hands and knees in front of where you’re seated sideways against the arm of the couch, positioned between your lazily spread legs with one hand hovering over the lid of your laptop, which he’s slowly pushing closed. 

“hey!” you choke out, both startled by the way your body reacts to his sudden proximity and the fact that you haven’t saved your document in fifteen minutes. 

hastily, you do just that, and the laptop snaps shut with a resounding click that seems to echo off of the walls of the apartment like a beacon while karasu stares back at you for a beat. 

a slow grin of victory spreads across his face when he uses one hand to transfer your laptop to the coffee table, but he makes no move to get off of you. 

“otoya and hiori wanna get dinner,” he tells you by way of explanation. 

it’s not fair how much more attractive his stupid, cute little mole looks with dark strands of hair falling against it—

“and?” you ask carefully. 

you just want to reach out and touch—

“and you gotta eat, too, so i’ve been waitin’ on you, princess.”

fucking pet names. one goddamn crisis at a time.

your ribcage is on the verge of becoming a triage center. 

“well, don’t you—shouldn’t you go and get ready, at least?” you do your best not to sound completely and entirely rattled as you gesture toward his hair. 

he looks up with just his eyes, as if he’s only just now noticing the origin of your afternoon’s torture. “what, does it look that bad?”

is he serious?

he smirks, and—oh. your breath hitches in your throat as you try to figure out when he got so close, when he shifted even higher to cage you in entirely between his tall, muscled frame and the plush, worn-in couch cushions. 

it makes you feel dizzy, being beneath him like this. 

karasu smells like the strawberries he was eating earlier, and your throat goes dry as you think about the way he’d outright fed one to you instead of handing it to you like a normal person when you asked. the way his fingertips had briefly touched your lips—

he smells like the fabric softener he’s used for years, and it’s seemingly the last remaining lifeline left to ground you in this moment. you grasp at it, almost desperately. 

you end up unconsciously fisting a hand in the fabric of his shirt instead. 

he leans in a little closer, close enough that his hair brushes against your forehead. 

it tickles. 

warmth blooms hot in your gut, petals of heat caressing your spine.  

“does it look bad?” he asks again. 

you can feel his breath skirt against your lips. 

“maybe,” you whisper, voice almost hoarse. because you need some sort of an upper hand here. 

he huffs, eyes locked on yours. “liar.”

“you’re distracting,” you tell him again for the—you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve said it today. 

one of his knees is slotted dangerously between your legs, and you try not to think about the way his thighs look in his kit. how often you have to tear your eyes away from the sight of them when you’re watching his games. 

fucking footballers. 

“am i?” 

you nod slowly, and you wonder what his lips taste like. how he kisses. if they’re as warm as the body heat that’s blanketing you while he keeps you bracketed beneath him. 

if he’d methodically break you down like he does to his opponents on the field—if he’d call you some other endearing thing in that pretty accent of his while your legs are wrapped around his waist, while you’re carding your fingers through his hair and parting your lips and gasping his name. 

you wonder if he’d take it slow and drag his nose down your cheek before sliding his lips along the curve of your jaw. 

if he’d kiss you long and deep, licking his way into your mouth with one hand splayed against your throat and another curled around your hip. 

if he’d—

“you’re distracting, too, ya know,” he whispers. 

“what?” your heart’s pounding so loudly in your chest, you’re not sure if you heard him right. 

karasu taps your chin lightly with his pointer finger. “ya read out loud, and ya sing to yourself while you’re cookin’ and cleanin’.”

embarrassment washes over you as you begin to realize what a bothersome house guest you’ve probably unintentionally become over the past few days. “i’m sorry, i’m just so used to living alone, and—“

he cuts you off abruptly, “i said you’re distracting, not that i didn’t like it.”

you blink up at him owlishly, and your chest tightens in confusion as you breathe out what seems to be one of the few last remaining words in the wasteland of your mental dictionary, “what?”

“you have a pretty voice,” he murmurs, thumb ghosting over the edge of your bottom lip. “i like hearin’ it.”

you feel breathless when you exhale the only other thing you can think to say, “karasu.”

his eyes fall shut for a moment, and he smiles. “i love the way you say my name.”

your tongue dances impatiently against the back of your teeth as you swallow, testing the weight of three different syllables—

“tabito,” you whisper. 

he opens his eyes suddenly, and he stares down at you with an expression that has your toes curling against the couch cushions. 

“you should only say that if ya want me to kiss ya,” he rasps. 

your fingers tremble slightly as you reach up and touch his hair, slowly brushing the tips across his mole. he catches your hand when you go to pull away, keeping it there. 

“tabito.”

karasu’s mouth crashes into yours. 

[alicesfracturedmirror]

*screaming, crying, passing out*

18+, age gap

“you should date someone your own age.”

you mutter the words against karasu’s shoulder, face buried in the soft, black material of his t-shirt. and it’s unfortunate, because in your attempts not to look him in the eye, you’ve still subjected yourself to the familiar, dizzying scent of his cologne on each inhale now instead.

somewhere across the kitchen, the buzz of the espresso machine comes to a sudden halt as it runs out of water. 

even if you wanted to get up and fill it, you can’t. because karasu tugged you into his lap at the kitchen table after you brought his still-steaming cup over, his arms around your middle and your legs straddling his waist, and he’s yet to loosen his hold on you. 

the fridge hums, and the clock near the window ticks. 

your heartbeat sounds awfully loud as you wait for his response. 

you met karasu tabito months ago by chance, on a rare night when your friends managed to drag you out of the house and to a bar so you’d stop moping about your shitty ex.

and, well, forget about your shitty ex you certainly did once you found yourself making out with the handsome, twenty-something footballer that bought you a drink two hours later. it’s not something you’d normally do, admittedly. but there was something undeniably charming about the way he approached you, entirely dismissive of the hoots and hollers coming from what was likely the rest of his team sitting at another table across the room. 

your shitty ex was the furthest thing from your mind when you stumbled through the front door of your apartment with karasu later that evening, when he gently batted away your hands as they roamed against the erection tented at the front of his jeans. when he gave you a crooked smile and shook his head before getting down on his knees right there in the entryway—like he’d been waiting all night to push up the skirt of your dress and drag the point of his nose against your aching clit.

he did let you wrap your hands around his cock eventually, only once he’d left a slick, satisfied, dripping mess between your legs. but he was still more concerned with your pleasure even then, even as you stroked him, his fingers coyly snaking back between your thighs to tease at your folds, his steady gaze raptly watching the way your composure began to stutter and slip. 

maybe it was how long it had been since you’d slept with anyone other than your ex, maybe karasu was just good at figuring out what you liked. 

maybe you were just lonely.

maybe it felt nice to feel desired, pretty, to be called beautiful with his lips pressed to the nape of your neck as his fingertips danced down your spine with the zipper to your dress in tow. to shudder beneath his touch, to smile and laugh against his lips, to come on his fingers and his tongue and his cock. to be fucked in the shower, to fall asleep in his arms, to lazily make out on up on the kitchen counter with your legs around his waist and orange juice on your tongue in the dim morning light. 

you’re not sure what you are now, what this is—

—why karasu tabito could be spending his time with any pretty girl when he’s not on the pitch (someone who’s not a decade older than him), and yet he’s here instead.

he’s here waking up tangled in your sheets more often than not, with kisses drawn along the curve of your jaw and shapes traced against your skin, with a soft, tender look when you press your mouth to the mole below his eye in turn—an expression that’s become alarmingly familiar as it clings to the shell of your fragile heart. 

“oh?” he replies, interrupting your own spiral of thoughts.

“probably,” you whisper, fingers unconsciously curling in the front of his shirt.

his hands grasp your chin, lifting your face to meet his own. he looks serious in a way that makes your chest hurt.

“and what if i don’t wanna?”

you sigh, looking away. “i’d call you foolish.”

he laughs under his breath, caressing your throat as he turns your mouth back to his own, lips hovering against yours. “i don’t care what ya call me, ‘long as the words ‘mine’ are in there somewhere, too.”

[alicesfracturedmirror]

and if yes pls respond/put in the tags with what you’re reading and whether or not you like it i need new books for the new year <3

[alicesfracturedmirror]

to the anon who asked ab which bllk men would die ab their partner listening to nsfw audios...karasu canonically has a voice fetish ur in gold company

man the torture you could put him through by simply blindfolding him while you masturbate. lord that guy is such a freak