PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader | Teaser!
#NSFW in full, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is a performer, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), teaser not edited lmao
Note: This is just going to be a one-shot since it's already pretty much completed, just need to finish off the tail end and then go back and edit. Wanted a break from writing the other stories for a bit, so I hope you'll enjoy the full story when it's out
tags: @better-imagination-9 @better-imagination-9
“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?”
The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.
“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle.
Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold.
Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–
(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!
Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!
(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?
(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?
Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him.
“...No proof.”
“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you.
One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige.
The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational.
But the last one–
“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair.
Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you.
“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the beat up, rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard.
“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?”
“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought.
Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.”
You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.”
“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless.
“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.
“Done.”
Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed Words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly.
And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly.
“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?”
“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.”
The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. Thw fuck did they want?”
“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.”
Sukuna froze.
“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?”
You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you.
“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest.
“For a kid,” you chastised With a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.”
“You better not be pregnant.”
“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.”
Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.”
“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.”
Man. Man.
“A statement.”
“In other words–”
“I'm not the fucking father.”
“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up.
“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.”
“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”
“I'll take the runt.”
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— when broken is easily fixed
SUMMARY : priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes.
PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader (implied Latina)
CHARACTERS : tish (mentioned)
WARNINGS/TAGS : jealousy, breakups, fluff, tiny angst, innuendos, obliviousness x2
WORD COUNT : 2.7k
A/N : SURPRISE YALL, I’m back, heheheh. title from the devil wears prada’s song. this fills the square “I’m having what you’d call a rough day” on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, this was nice to jump back into writing. I secretly like teaching y’all physics.
You remember the day Priestly showed up at the market in a disappointingly normal state.
No piercings, no colourful hair, no beard, no eyeliner. Just plain old California clothes, nearly looking Christian with his neat hair, and composed manners.
The only things that reassured you that Priestly was still Priestly after all, were the tattoos that peeked from outside the collar of a white dress shirt and the tiny holes in his skin where his piercings once belonged.
It was confusing at first, but he looked happy. Brighter.
You thought his parents were in town. Or that he became religious after all. Or that he joined a cult.
You teased him at first. He’d just give you this dreamy look and never said anything to ease your curiosity about his current state. He’d be out the door in a hurry, with a tiny bit of that Priestly swagger that told you he was definitely not brainwashed by a cult.
But the reason for the sudden change in him soon became clear.
One day, he walked into the store to buy groceries and other necessities with Tish. Hand in hand, the two of them. All giggles and shoves and smiles. The honeymoon phase. She’d kiss him on his cheeks, take his chin in her hand and press herself against him in an unnecessary manner to tell him something, and he’d look stupid, like he couldn’t believe she was there giving him affection.
Your stomach dropped at the sight of them.
You’d never felt the way you did before.
Yeah, there was a cringey-ness and aversion you always had for PDA and romance that you’d noticed in yourself for years, but it never bothered you like it did now. From watching Priestly and Tish be a couple.
But it also didn’t take you long to realise why it bothered you so much more. Why it was so much harder to ignore than if it were any other couple doing it. Why you felt rejected became clear.
You had feelings for Priestly.
What a dumb way to find that out.
Excuse the fuck out of yourself if you were too focused on your university courses and your job and your future and your personal life… to realise that you really actually liked him. Romantically.
You weren’t going to lie to yourself and pretend that you didn’t care at all when you were alone. You weren’t going to lie to yourself about the sting you felt. Or push away the feelings of jealousy and push down how upset you were and the other, million emotions you felt as you watched them go about their lives as a couple for months.
You never wanted to quit more badly than you did then, just to avoid having to see them get closer, clingier, more affectionate, serious. But it was the only way you could afford living in your dorm, to have enough to pay your classes, and afford your supplies and books...
You sucked it up and pretended that nothing was wrong. Like you didn’t even care about him. Like you never did.
It never really got easier, the only thing that became easy was pretending.
You blamed yourself for waiting too long. That’s what haunted you. If you’d just been braver. If you’d been more honest with yourself and him. If you’d had the courage to say what you felt. If… if…
It was torture.
The high California-in-the-summertime temperatures made you think that you were in Hell, but time passed and you accepted that your chance with him had passed. You told yourself to move on and be happy. For the most part, as long as you ignored them, it was easy to be happy again, to live your life and do whatever your wildest friend was doing to enjoy her summer.
But that happiness you’d seen in Priestly was gone by the time the fall semester came around. It took six long, horrible months for that happiness in him to fade away.
It didn’t last. Just like the spring and the summer.
Until one day you didn’t see her with him. And the next day he was alone again. And the next week; alone. And the week after that, too.
No Tish.
Just mopey, wet-eyed Priestley.
His stubble grew, his eyeliner returned—slightly smeared from tears.
No more Banana Republic, Tommy Hillfigure, or Calvin Klein. Just those ridiculous shirts that always made you smile.
He entered the store today again after a week.
The shop's bell rang and you looked up out of habit, and watched him with his gorgeous green eyes cast downward to the slightly dusty floor you were trying to sweep. God, you’d guess it was more of a depressing, someone’s-dead type of chime than a merry one—from the state of him.
His hair was a mess and slightly longer, it was not brushed or styled neatly. Like he woke up from a nap after breakfast and decided to go to the store because he remembered something he forgot before his nap.
You felt bad… at first.
His cheeks were pink and his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy from tears. He had darkened bags under his eyes. But as he moped around and you avoided being noticed by him out of awkwardness, you caught a glimpse of his shirt, which amused you: Hang in there, it gets worse, with a little thumbs up, too.
He came completely in black, too.
It was unavoidably funny. But you stifled your snort as you continued to sweep quietly, until eventually, you got lost in thought again. Your head filled with your to-do list before entering your final semester.
But you eventually found yourself in the same aisle as him. You swept the trash up into the dustpan as you watched him try to hold bread, bananas, napkins, and toilet paper in one arm while trying to take out a gallon of milk from the fridge.
You saw what would happen from a mile away and quickly released the broom and left the dustpan where it was to help him. Before you could actually get to him, the napkins toppled out of his hold and he mistakenly released the milk to grab it which caused the gallon to burst open when it fell to the floor like a ripe melon in the sun.
You gasped when the milk splattered on you, but you didn’t actually mind at all. Priestly, on the other hand, sighed heavily again, completely giving up.
He finally looked at you when you reached for the napkins he dropped and you smiled warily at him, hoping it appeared more reassuring than pitiful. You handed him the napkins and he murmured an apology, taking them from you.
“They say when you drop your food, it's because someone craved it,” you tried to make light of the situation but he didn’t even notice. He gently placed everything down on top of the shelf behind him with a deep sigh.
“I’m so sorry,” he frowned at the large white puddle, “I’m having what you’d call a rough day.” You huffed a soft laugh which made him raise a brow at you.
“Day? You’ve been mopey and pathetic for weeks,” you teased playfully, but he remained quiet. You figured you’d offended him or hurt his feelings because he sniffled and looked down at his hands.
Your face softened.
“I’ll pay for that.” He pointed to the spilt milk and broken gallon.
“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “Let me clean this up. I’ll help you when I finish.” You turned around to pick up some napkins you kept behind the counter and he made a sound of protest.
He followed you, you heard him walking behind you quickly. “I made this mess. I should clean it. Besides, it’s almost your lunch break,” he tried to stop you. You laughed softly and shook your head as you laid yourself over the counter to grab the napkins from underneath the counter, your feet dangled embarrassingly above the floor.
“Hey, it’s no trouble,” you dismissed, smiling triumphantly to yourself when you got up with the napkins. “Go be a customer and bring your stuff… take two trips this time. There’s no one else here.” You snatched the napkins away from him when he tried to take them from you.
He smiled a little.
It made you smile more earnestly.
“Okay… Fine…” he gave in hesitantly and followed you as you walked towards the mess he made. He picked up the stuff he left on the shelf and watched you squat down and lay some napkins over the puddle. The paper soaked the milk up and he slowly walked to the counter then returned as you finished up.
He stood there awkwardly at first. Still just watching you clean up and then you got up and smiled at him sweetly. He smiled back at you gently and your heart sped up the way it always did when he looked at you. Your stomach clenched happily, but you frowned and quickly stepped away from him to throw the wet paper towels away along with the gallon that had contained the milk.
“I’m really sorry,” he apologised again when you returned.
“Priestly, it’s fine, accidents happen,” you chuckled to convince him and eyed the new gallon of milk. “You ready?” You wiped your hands on your jeans despite still feeling icky.
“Yeah,” he answered quietly, then looked around at the unusually empty store. “You want me to finish sweeping for you? Or maybe… Do you wanna wash your hands? You look uncomfortable. I can wait,” he rambled.
You laughed at him, this was all too much for you so “early” in the morning. He instantly shut up and became flustered. His free hand flew up to the back of his neck and he laughed awkwardly.
“Well, if it matters so much to you, put the Closed sign on while I throw the stuff in the dustpan away and wash my hands. I’ll meet you at the counter in five.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically.
You rolled your eyes at the name, but walked away wordlessly to finish up. You actually were pretty hungry.
When you returned, Preistly had his hands in his trouser’s pockets, he was chewing on his lip, and his cheeks were red from embarrassment.
“What’s that thing you said earlier about dropping food?” He asked, trying to alleviate the thick tension that hung in the air around the two of you. You smiled as you scanned the items he needed.
“Oh, nothing,” you shrugged, “just a saying.”
He was quiet for a moment and then you looked up at him. He was already looking at you and your face instantly started to get warm again. You looked away as casually as you could to finish scanning the remaining items and neatly placing them inside a plastic bag.
“It was funny.”
“Ha, I guess…” you shrugged awkwardly and told him the price of his groceries.
“Right…” he took out random, balled up dollar bills from his back pocket despite having a wallet with enough space. You smiled curiously and took the money from him.
God, hurry and leave, you prayed internally as you placed his money in the cash register and took out his change. You dropped three quarters and a nickel into his hand when you began hearing the soft sound of rain hitting the windows and the concrete outside, and the delightful aroma of petrichor sneaking through the vents into the store.
“Fuck,” Priestly muttered, his fingertips grazed your palm and your body lit up like the second the temperature of the universe hit one billion Kelvin after the Big Bang, finally allowing neutrons and protons to form atomic nuclei as they hit and stuck to each other. “The worst day ever.”
You snapped out of your daze, disappointed, but not surprised at his obliviousness.
“I could give you a ride,” you offered with a shrug, taking your bag from inside the bottom drawer as he took his bag of groceries.
“I keep wasting your time…” he trailed off, but he did not decline your offer.
“That’s fine. Where do you live?” You made your way around the counter and walked past him to stand at the door and watch the rain slowly come heavier.
“You’re a stranger,” he joked, and you turned to roll your eyes at him. “What? You could secretly be a Mankiller.” You opened the door with a sarcastic laugh and squirmed as rain hit your face.
“Please, look at me,” you scoffed playfully, locking the door to the store once Priestly stepped outside with you.
“I am,” he said gently.
You looked up at him with your brows knitted in confusion. “Whatever. My car’s over here,” you brushed him off and quickly led him to your car.
You both sighed once you were safely inside the freshly cleaned car. He laughed to himself as he looked around inquisitively, but you didn't question him. You turned your car on instead to pull out of the driveway and asked him again where he lived as a Britney Spears song played on the radio. This time he finally answered your question seriously.
The conversation was light and you kept asking him about the sandwich shop he worked at and about his friends to avoid talking about yourself or his break up. It was basically small talk, bleh. The conversation was superficial because you didn’t want to get close to him, not now, not when he was freshly broken up and still clearly hurting.
He ran his hand through his hair once you parked outside his house, somehow he managed to make it look tame. He looked at the time and you waited patiently for him to get out so you could leg it and cry to your friend over the phone about how you were so not over him.
“Stay,” he proposed suddenly when he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I can make you a sandwich, I’m really good at that.” You shook your head at first and racked your brain for some excuse to get away. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it for you, I’ve even got some soda in the fridge. Please, I feel really bad.” You chuckled softly at him and the pleading eyes he gave you. They looked much wider and greener.
“Fine,” you gave in, “I’m really hungry, so… I guess I could stay for a bit.” He lit up slightly and started to get out of the car before you managed to turn it off. But you caught up with him as he kicked the welcome mat to the side to retrieve his house’s key.
“You want a sub?” He asked, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a joke out of that and nodded as you entered his messy house. Oh well, he’s been going through a breakup.
“Oh, God, I forgot it’s a mess,” he apologised when he looked at the star of everything around him. “Close your eyes, pretend you don’t see it,” he pleaded jokingly.
“As long as I don’t step in something squishy, we’re all good,” you reassured him with a small laugh. You followed him to the kitchen and figured he must be going through the not-eating breakup rather than the eating-my-feelings breakup.
“How big do you want it?” He asked you, setting the bag down on the counter and going to wash his hands.
“How much do you think I can take?” You asked before you could actually filter it out of your mind. He quickly looked at you, amused and intrigued while he dried his hands with a clean towel from inside his cabinet. “Kidding, how big is it?” He laughed loudly at your question which made you get more flustered, but he still gave you a measurement with his hands. “Half of that,” you tried to ignore his face and sat down before your knees gave out from embarrassment.
“If you can only take half of that, I don’t think you could handle me.”
Your mouth fell open. You were sure you stopped breathing for a few moments when your heart stuttered and your stomach lurched at the thought.
This time, you blinked at him in surprise, but your eyes stayed wide, and you felt yourself turn hotter before you both bursted out laughing.
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BULLYING IS NOT OKAY!!
hey guys, just wanted to make this post to remind not to bully or harass others, especially in such a creative community, its just not okay. I wasn't going to make a post about any of this but atp this person just wont stop so i guess i'll lay it all out! @rebellesims420 has been making alt accounts to try & call me out for copying her... didnt think much of it since we all kinda do the same thing, and i wasnt even sure if the person calling me out was her. come to find out, it definitely was rebelle on an alt account making a comment on almost all of my posts, reblogging my posts saying nasty things, asking her "main" account questions to call me out. then turning her alt into a "shade room" in hopes to call me out??? it became very obvious when they said “i’ve been watching your account for months” while they had just created their account 5 mins before leaving me my first message.. hm..
firstly, i want to say that that behavior is extremely toxic especially coming from such a well known creator. sims is a form of art & art is inspiring in every form. theres thousands of creators on here that do the same as me & rebelle that do NOT deserve to be harassed because they have a similar blog type the way you have harassed me. secondly rebelle, all of this talk made me go check a few things out, and heres what i found!
I've started my page & have been doing the same thing since…. before you.
2. you started titling your hair cc finds "locs, braids & twists lookbook" just like my posts (i've never seen anyone ever call it that lmao), but instead of calling you out i just let you do ur thing! dates are all listed.
3. i made at least 5 hair look books before you even posted your first one
4. never saw you use nose shadows until months into ur work..
5. my 3rd or 4th up-do lookbook... posted before u... & how does our work look even remotely similar? i could probably name 10 other lookbook creators who i share more of a style with such as pinkishwrld & inbetweensims
6. already made 2 male lookbooks & then... i think ya'll can already guess the rest LMAO
7. lol do they look similar to you too??? guessed right again! i posted mine a month before lol
8. made an ombre hair lookbook & then they post this on their page for download a few days after... with the same looking sim & the same cc finds... lol, talk about not getting creds.
you called me out of my name multiple times, telling me i dont give credit to creators? i GIVE credit to EVERYONE, esp where it's due. no need to give credit to you for something i did for longer than you. matter of fact, i think you should give me more credit for MY creations because it clear your page wouldn't run without them. it's always the bigger creators feeding off of our littler creations claiming its the other way...
making fun of my race, saying I'm intentionally copying is preposterous. i could go on a worse rabbit hole & show the baby hairs you've copied & all of the other small things you’ve done like changing ur gshade, rotating ur sims although they’ve always been straight… nose shadows. those things are really just dimes & nickels to me which is why i never mentioned it. because it was never this serious to me until now after all the words you’ve chosen to say...
the only thing i can say slipped on my end was posting a similar look book to you on the same day, but as posted below you can see i took these pictures DAYS before her post was ever made. dates can be seen below. & like i said the only reason i made a kids lookbook, is because someone requested it (which is the lookbook that pushed her to make an alt lmfaooo)
i sincerely hope in the future you don't harass other random people on tumblr over things like this bc news flash... many people do what we do.
ya'll, if any of you are creators who have a problem with another creator, try & stay professional about it bc we are all just doing what we love. try to talk to them creator to creator, & at the end of the day a beautiful friendship might even flourish! don't make alt accounts pretending to not be you when it clearly is. embarrassing, and will get you caught up quick. im mutuals with mostly every lookbook creator in our community, i tried multiple times to interact with rebelles posts but was met with nothing but animosity which is similar to what others have told me they went through with her. stay safe out there
~DelSolSasha
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8K3KxtG/
I feel like if this happened to Naoya after he let his hair go natural he’d probably be booking an appointment to the salon that day XD
Heya anon!!!
OMG HAHAHAHAHAHAH I love how we all agree that Naoya dyeing his hair black once his roots show (or just not dyeing it at all) is like a bad idea lmao. Just like the top comment said, it was the only thing keeping the family together 😂😂😂😂
Anyways, this was such a treat to write. I'm always down for domestic yn/naoya shenanigans + our adorable naomi!!!!
warnings: none. fluff. naoya regrets his life. lol.
Happy reading!!!
Naoya deciding to dye his hair completely black wasn’t one that he chose personally, it was simply… a consequence of his surroundings.
He’d been out on missions for too long, that his dye naturally began to fade out, showing his dark roots and prompting him with the idea of…
“All black?” you ask; both were on videocall when he suggested the idea—Naoya stationed in some remote village he was deployed in, still days away from returning. “I haven’t seen you wear that look since… forever I think.”
“Naomi definitely hasn’t seen me like that.” He comments, and at the revelation, you gasp.
“Oh my god, that is true!” you smile. “Do you think she’ll notice? I don’t think so, she’s still pretty young… Though I know she’ll be happy to see her handsome papa again! Black hair, or not.”
Naoya smiles.
“I can’t wait to come back home either; it’s been horrible without my two princesses.”
“Well, hurry back! We’re tired of waiting for you…”
Naoya takes it seriously when you tell him to hurry, quick to finish whatever mission he was in before catching the earliest flight back home, but not without making one last stop; he usually dyed his hair by his own at that point, was considering so too…
But he wanted to make this a special surprise. It had been quite some time since he last mentioned it, so he’s sure you’ve probably forgotten about it by now, thus setting up the perfect opportunity to carry out his plans.
To say that he was excited about this whole ordeal was an understatement. Naoya was really looking forward to this change, and all because of one simple reason: Naomi’s reaction.
Ever since his little bundle of joy was born, life had become far more enjoyable, even with the littlest, most mundane of things. All had become a thrilling adventure he couldn’t wait to share with his daughter.
Naoya never thought he’d ever come to enjoy the wonders of being a father, always thought it to be tedious, boring. And most importantly, fated to be with someone he wouldn’t care for.
But then you happened, and with time, little Naomi, completely changing his perspective of life.
Whatever thing he did, the sight of his adorable baby girl would cross his mind, wondering what kind of reaction she’ll have for the new toy he’ll bring her after the mission, her cute babbles whenever telling her of his day, as if she knew what he was saying…
Or in this scenario, if Naomi would be able to recognize him after completely dyeing his hair black.
A part of him hopes—no, knows so, because he knows his baby girl to be very attentive, and there’s something sweet about a daughter being able to distinguish her father through all circumstances.
Luckily, he won’t have to wait much to get his answer, for as soon as his hair was done, he went straight back to the estate, not even bothering to let you know beforehand (just to add to the surprise), eventually making a beeline to you, quickly taking you in his arms before you could even muster a hello and kissing you—it’s only when he pulls away that you’re able to acknowledge him, and his new hairstyle.
“Naoya! You dyed your hair black!” you bubbled, threading your fingers into his locks to relish both its softness and nostalgic color. “And your home too!”
“I did.” He smiles, leaning in to steal another kiss. “I’m home.”
“Ah, I missed you so much.” You sigh, resting your head against his chest. “Please tell me you’re not leaving until much, much later.”
“2 weeks.” He says sorrowfully—it’s more than last time, but still…
“…Well, let’s not talk about that anymore—let’s focus instead on our time together, with our adorable baby who missed you so much!”
“Where is she?” Naoya asks with unparalleled enthusiasm. “Is she awake?”
“With my staff, and yes, she just woke up actually!” You say, grabbing his hand and guiding him back to your shared bedroom. “Let’s go, now—I want to see her reaction to your new hair color!”
Just as you foretold, little Naomi was happily enjoying the company of your loyal staff, Mariya, Haruko and Hitomi, who treated your adorable baby as she were their own niece, taking her wherever they could when you’d unfortunately end up caught up with duties, which Naomi didn’t mind, if anything, she was all to happy to be spoiled rotten (even more) by her aunts!
And how could she not? With all their gifts and antics, Naomi was nothing if not overjoyed to be the center of their attention!
Yet, nothing they did could ever compare t0 the happiness of seeing her father return home, the papa that you always made sure to remind her loved her very much, even through the distance that is often imposed by his job.
Once the family is reunited, your staff bids their regards to Naoya before leaving, allowing much needed privacy for the sweet moment that is to occur next. they leave to give them much needed privacy,
“Naomi!” Naoya says as soon as he laid eyes on his little bundle of joy, swooning when noticing the cute romper you’d dressed her up in, the same one he got her a few weeks ago: the yellow one with a little duck stitched in the front pocket. “My little mochi, I’m home!”
He reaches for her, extending his arms to pick her up and give her all the kisses and hugs he’s been holding onto since he left, completely forgetting about the reaction he so desperately wanted to see—
But the moment he does so, Naoya feels his baby tense up, a soft whine escaping her lips as her chubby little hands attempted to push him away, a reaction so different to her usually bubbly, welcoming personality, that his heart couldn’t help but shatter a bit in return.
“What’s wrong, dumpling?” He asks. “Did you miss me that much?”
“Nnngah!” Naomi cries as she attempts to push him away once more, but Naoya persists, that is, until a sharp wail makes him realize it was something graver.
“Naomi, why are you crying??” Naoya frets, attempting to comfort her by gently rocking her—to no avail. “Is it your diaper?? Or are you hungry??”
It takes you a few moments to understand what’s happening, but when you do, you’re not even able to laugh about it, too preoccupied instead in comforting your poor crying daughter, who was upset from innocently confusing her papa for Naobito’s son #27.
She shouldn’t be blamed—couldn’t. Naomi was still in the age where she has difficulties setting apart those that similarly look like her father, after all, like the rest of Naoya’s brothers.
Naomi was only able to calm down after you took her back into her arms, the only person she seemed to recognize at the moment, gently bouncing her until her cries eventually diminished.
But the damage was done, and as soon as your little mochi was placed back onto her crib, too tired out from crying, Naoya rushes straight to the exit, mind set on one thing:
“I’m dying my hair back blonde.”
“Naoya—It’s just a matter of her getting used to you!” you gasp, attempting to stop him. “You don’t need to do that!”
“I don’t want her to cry because of me ever again.” He insists. “I’ve already arranged the appointment; I’m heading out now. And while I’m at it, I’ll also buy Naomi more toys, hopefully she’ll be able to forgive me.”
“That won’t—” you wish to push the idea out of Naoya’s mind, tell him that perhaps he’s exaggerating, but you could see the sadness in his eyes, that notion that he genuinely believed needed this to feel better about himself.
So, you let him, giving him a kiss while asking him to not to do anything outrageous; Naoya’s spending could be quite… excessive when upset, you’d know that better than anyone. Although something tells you it might be worse now that Naomi is involved…
Nonetheless, by the time Naoya returns with his hair effectively back to blonde, Naomi is now able to identify him as her beloved papa, cheerfully reaching out for him to receive her well-deserved dosage kisses and hugs, as well as all the toys he brought along to ease his mistakes—it’s almost like that unspeakable incident never occurred! Much to Naoya’s delight.
And while upsetting at the moment, this is an anecdote you’d eventually recount with humor in the future, about the time Naomi didn’t recognize her father because of his hair dye, and how Naoya almost went to the end of the world to redeem himself.
Though both would deny it, of course. Thankfully, you have a good memory.
I'm sorry I had to call Naoya Naobito's son #27 but let's be real, they all look alike (In my hc that is) HOW COULD NAOMI NOT CONFUSE HIM? HAHAHAHAH Poor man, well, thankfully Naomi forgave him once he fixed his mistake :) you won't see Naoya with black hair anymore, though you'd come to regret not being able to "relieve the good ol days" 😳😳😳😳
Anyways, thank you sososos much for sending in this I LOVE DOMESTIC AU WITH NAOYA our redeemed little dork. Ah, I really needed this after last chapter's ordeal 😏 keep 'em coming 🤭
Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!!
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TMAGP 16 live thoughts!!
This episode started with a hello Jon dedication I'm already feeling like this won't be a fun time
-oh my god poor Alice the trauma is already starting
-celia does believe you alice trust she's seen some shit
-no the Horrors need to pay their dues with you alice
-alice dyer everybody, working right after watching a woman die
-yeah Sam stop talking
-CHESTERRRRR
-social media??
-#GOTHGIRL MY GOD
-WOAH INKSOUL BACK??
-okay inksoul is important
-oh my god it's a live stream archive
-oh my fucking god they're using internet slang
-WHO TOLD THEM THEY HAD ACCESS TO USE NO CAP IN A SCRIPT?
-holy shit this is awful
-PLEASE INKSOUL KILL THIS WOMAN SO I DONT HAVE TO HEAR HER SAY ANOTHER WORD
-please fucking KILL me
-OH MY GOD THE SOUND EFFECTS ARE KILLING ME
-woah world's quickest tattoo
-what in the fuck tattoo did they give you??
- dude inksoul got so tired of her shit so quick I'm with them on this
-GIRL YOU ARE NOT IN A SITUATIONSHIP THEY HATES YOUR ASS
-HOLY SHIT PLEASE THE SOUND EFFECTS ARE GONNA KILL ME
-when is Madam's soundboard gonna drop I need it
-i never thought I would hear the word "sus" in a rusty quill podcast but okay
-so this is the point we've reached in humanity
-STOP SAYING SUS
-I AM IN CLASS LISTENING TO THIS TRYING NOT TO BURST OUT LAUGHING PLEEEEEASE
-oh my god inksoul is digging up bodies?? WAIT no this related to the other case where uh person with tattoos was looking for the body they dug up, is this the same cemetary?? So it was actually inksoul trying to find that body??
-NOT THE BRUH SOUND EFFECT
-"so I bail" I can imagine her scurrying away like a cartoon character
-yeah girl only real goths dig up corpses, get with the times girly
-oh naurrrr
-OKAY SO THEY ARE ROBBING GRAVES
-vicious pick me trash fr girl
-OH MY GOD ITS A YOUTUBER APOLOGY BAHAHA
-"Im such a good person" OH MY GOD KILL ME
-"ig we're ops??" Who in the fuck wrote this episode
-I need to stop typing this post is going to be so long because I can't bare listening to the internet slang
-oh so her heart IS breaking
-yeah you're actually not okay
-UMMMM "help" ????
-THIS HAPPENED RECENTLY IN MARCH??
-oh thank god the cats are okay
-oh my god she's actually letting hate comments kill her wtf
-OH OH OH EW EW EW THAT NOISE
-DID HER HEART RIP OUT??
-please alice go get coffee get me some too
-gwen wtf
-oh so Lena is pissed
-I DONT LIKE THIS
-lmao Lena is actually being sensible here
-STOP BRINGING ELDRITCH HORRORS INTO THE OFFICE??? LENA IS KINDA RIGHT HERE YOU SAW WHAT BONZO WAS WHY DID YOU THINK THIS EXTERNAL WAS ANY BETTER
-yeah you might just die holy shit gwen
-Gwen you are gonna get fired
-okay who wrote this episode credits tell me
-ALEXANDER J NEWALL YOU FUCKING BASTARD
Okay ignoring everything else I just had to torture myself with by listening to, genuinely interesting episode. We have confirmation now that inksoul is hunting down corpses for some reason. Inksoul is definitely important and will be showing up again soon I fear.
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wink blink look !!
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Last time I saw Thursday was 2017 and I got so black out drunk that I remember NONE of their set and I cannot fully process the fact I'm seeing them tonight living a life that is healthier, happier, and so unfathomable to the guy who saw them last. I'm so ready to commit this whole night to memory💖
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i really want to start making a table collecting statistics on the audience demographics i'll perform my aubrey material for (like what generation most of the audience is, whether i'm performing in a predominantly queer space, etc.) and how well the jokes land bc like. i need to collect more data points before i can properly present my findings but the results so far have been fascinating
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Beginning to really wonder how much of my financial concern is manufactured and handed to me as opposed to something I'm genuinely concerned by
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stupid stupid stupid stupid I am so fucking stupid
(LONG rant in the tags. originally a little longer still but apparently there were too many tags so tumblr deleted the rest lol)
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i need to pick up my tf2 hotline au again
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my best friend is moving in with his boyfriend and I am Not handling it super well so real grown-ups of tumblr, how do you deal with it when a good friend has a long-term, serious partner who you think is...fine?
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will zero finally go back to school... stay tuned and find out
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Wolfstar stans always say that Remus was OOC IN Canon!!! I mean wtf?? delusional lol. Fanon Remus is a mary sue who suffers and pines after cruel hottie Sirius and then Sirius comes to his senses and runs after his moony, begging for scraps of his attention and ofc James is completely ignored by sirius or they fight over poor hurting remus lmao their Fanon is what is so OOC. I think they self insert into Remus so they can catch the popular Hot bad boy who they can "cure of his bad ways"
hello anon 💜 i see we have awoken to choose violence today (nice) so i’m putting this under a cut so remus fans can skip this one.
yeah i’ve seen that too and i always have to scroll past while making faces because,,,im not here to start shit lol but oh god it’s such an annoying position. like ok, i’ve called canonical behaviours ooc too (cough harry in CC cough) and it’s entirely possible i was wrong, but the remus thing is just. wilfully ignoring everything we know about him? (again: caveat here is if you don’t care about canon, then go for it w/o trying to do critical canon analyses. no harm, no foul)
but here’s the thing, right? remus as we know him in canon is a serial manipulator, liar, gaslighter, and coward. like, this has been shown multiple times. i’m not making it up. in my mind, his actions in dh were absolutely not ooc. they just followed the pattern that had already been established so far. and i feel like so much of his characterisation comes from not wanting to engage with that kind of darkness (because even acknowledging it means your dynamic is changed). i’ve read a few excellent fandom analysis posts on here, actually, about how characterisation of wolfstar has changed over the years (decades?) as the average readership/writer ship has gone from middle aged to younger. apparently, it used to be much more dysfunctional and grittier earlier, dealing with the darkness on both sides. it was interesting. but anyway, yeah, i see it happen with regulus/jegulus too sometimes (even if i can’t comment on it since i’ve barely interacted with that content) where you deliberately turn a blind eye to things because if remus is a coward or bad at relationships, then u can’t actually write that fluffy AU u want. which…isn’t fun. because fanfic is about writing all the fluffy AUs in the world ykno?
but what that’s ended up doing is completely transforming his character into someone barely recognisable to those who aren’t in that particular niche (although,,,it’s not exactly niche is it?) and just. idk. i’m rambling now lol but it just really frustrates me because i cannot escape it. and it always treats sirius so badly. remus is just the most sympathetically written character, even when he’s being an absolute asshole, and sirius can’t breathe without being whacked over the head with it. i hate how much he’s scapegoated, honestly. like, i think i’d be fine with the mary sue-fication of remus if sirius wasn’t so defanged in the process but alas, it isn’t to be.
also that’s such an interesting point because i’ve often thought the same about remus being a self insert tbh. i was talking to someone and they said something along the lines of ‘james & sirius as the hot, rich, privileged characters aren’t relatable as much as remus, who’s poor & tortured & misunderstood, so u have people flocking to the latter’ and that combined with the ‘i can fix him’ energy just,,,really shines through sometimes lol. not so much on tumblr (where i barely interact) but i’ve seen it so much in the mwpp fandom on twitter, and a bit on tiktok. it’s very projection-heavy imo (which like, not a judgement. i’m clearly a projection heavy writer too)
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WHAT DO YOU MEAAANNN "MID" THAT COMIC GOES SO HARD AND NOT FOR ANYTHING... THAT WAS MY FIRST THOUGHT VERBATIM... THIS GOES HARD. Incredibly effective composition and symbolism and use of values and shadow on the first page ESPECIALLY (I would love to hear what the third eye symbolizes as mentioned in your tags :) ) but. But. But like. Masato being Arakawa's comfort and not recognizing it and certainly not remembering it when he's older... despite how much it means to Arakawa in the moment... owwww owwie
I was gonna ramble about how much it hits home to depict Yoko as non-human because the nightmares that have stuck with the most about my mom were like that But Enough Of That We Get It... at any rate, as always, take care and I hope you get some good news soon!
thank you so much ♪(´▽`) !! it generally felt like somethin i dont really post (but horror/blood is something i really love and love to draw), so its why i was especially excited to share it and see what people thought: im glad people like it from what i see (❁´◡`❁) ! and im glad the lack of color wasn't anything detrimental- it might have worked better in this instance. maybe.
i dont ever 'title' things per say since i feel weird doin it BUT i guess captions serve as the title sometimes. so the caption 'matrophobia' is really ironic with that whole aspect in relation to masato being arakawa's Everything: on the one hand, it can just be a general fear of your mother, but on the other hand it could also be the fear of becoming like your mother. if i ever intended to go through with a jo variant, 'patrophobia' would for sure be the title with that ambiguity in mind, but (and i suppose in both instances) with this its more ironic here since masato is the one who ends up the most like his parents' abusers- which ultimately just makes things more bittersweet in that moment dont it (´▽` ;;;) on top of masato being arakawa's comfort, it's not just masato himself being the only reason: tying back into the alt. meaning of matrophobia, it's also a relief for arakawa in that he didn't turn out like his mother- which, again, makes everything so bittersweet in the end. its like spiders in my brain when it comes to that whole aspect in regards to the arakawa family's history and dynamics...... it makes me insane to be blunt ☠️
ah but yeah ! i decided to make her an actual perceivable monster so people who. DON'T. have issues with either of their parents could get a better feeling of what it is like to have a troublesome parent/s (id rather see wolves in my dreams than my mom on that note- even if they were going to bite my face off ( ´◡` ;;; ) ). i ran out of tags before i could make any more notes i had while drawing (;´x`) but i do have more and i'll be glad to explain the missing eye bit ! under the cut since it'll just be me rambling bout symbolism ig and its gonna get long (´▽`;;; )
when it came to the third/center eye being missing specifically, i did it in relation to how the third eye can relate to enlightenment or higher knowledge. definitely just as a result of projection, but its cause all the time when i was growing up my mom would not only assert and act as if Her Way Was The Right Way and that she knew everything, but that i should only go to her if i needed help and no one else could help me- hence it being missing being a reflection of how that notion isn't true (or always true i should say). as en extension, it's also a dig at how enlightened persons are supposed to help others reach enlightenment- yk, guide them. yet, again, in this case, they're only doing harm.
that's all for the third eye bit, but also just some other things i didnt have room to ramble bout last post: i had her lips be torn away to constantly show her fangs since. well. i dont have to explain it i guess: its just meant to highlight the never ending feeling of danger when around her (and the promise of danger). her nose being gone is purposeful too: in animals, the smell of your family's significant and it helps you find out Which One Is Yours right. in her nose being gone- again, more projection and personal problems on my part- it's a way to emphasize the separation between mother and child: 'you're no longer my kid anymore, i can't even recognize your scent'. of course, that's only to the mother: she is the only one no longer able to say they're family because she can't smell that shared scent anymore. in reality, they could very much smell the same, it's just the mother's unwilling to accept that anymore.
i know i mentioned the flowers in my initial post, but her wearing a flower shirt really was convenient since it allowed me to add those thorns and vines. when you have a troublesome parent like that, the feeling of not just being trapped is there, but it's painful- it's not something you can deal with quietly. even if you're not interacting with the parent directly, the thought of their presence or the unfortunate thoughts that come about as a result of having been around them so long are a constant thorn in the side. if i may make a pun ( ´uゝ` )
alright NOW i think i've covered everything i wanted to. without all the symbolism aside, i hope she at least looks grotesque for people to enjoy without the added thought- and i hope i didn't overdue it. in any case im glad you enjoyed it !! i hope you'll enjoy the next comic i get out (❁´◡`❁) if i ever start it and i dont abandon it midway through ( ❁´◡`❁ ;;;)
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Someone talk me out of quitting my job lol
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