Rune Naito (deceased)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Gay
DOB: 20 November 1932
RIP: 24 October 2007
Ethnicity: Japanese
Occupation: Artist, illustrator, writer
Note: His illustrations of "large-headed" (nitōshin) baby-faced girls, first drawn for Japanese magazines in the mid-1950s, are credited with pioneering the contemporary culture and aesthetic of Kawaii
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The Mexican card was hot but can we see Japanese (out of curiosity)
I really need to See the japanese! Like 1000 cards was so hot…
Hello, I really liked the 1000 follower stories but I am curious to see what would have happened if Eric chose the Japanese flag instead of the Mexican. 😊
The evening after picking the Japanese card, Eric’s admiring his thick muscles in the mirror when he notices something strange. His tattoos have contracted, slipping off his increasingly pale skin until he just has a small line of them on one shoulder. The banana, dog, bull, and the rising sun of Japan remain on his bulging delt, but other than that Eric’s skin is a blank canvas. Rather than any disappointment, Eric grins at himself in the mirror. Why would he mar this perfect porcelain skin with layers of tattoos?
When Eric checks his schedule on Tuesday morning, he realises that he has some extra summer classes all of a sudden. Engineering? He’s a liberal arts major! No… that’s not right… His mom always insisted that he needed to go into a STEM field, and with his brains, it just made sense to get into a good engineering program.
“I can’t believe that you’ve been doing homework all summer,” Blair complains, scrolling on his phone while Eric does practice problems. Eric doesn’t know what he’s complaining about, since Eric’s load is still dripping out of Blair’s ass. Eric can’t concentrate until he’s fucked someone, most nights.
“We can go party on Friday,” Eric rumbles. He works hard all week so he can play hard all weekend. It would be a shame not to take advantage of being a sexy mixed race stud.
In class on Thursday, Eric answers a question from the professor and hears his accent as if for the first time. It’s not noticeable unless you know what to look for, but Eric’s English is very precise, clipped, just a little monotone. It’s not surprising, since he’s spent his whole life speaking Japanese at home. Despite immigrating just after Eric was born, his parents still need him to take care of any legal paperwork for them.
“There’s my favourite war criminal!” Aaron says as Eric arrives for his Friday personal training session.
Eric rolls his eyes and punches Aaron on the shoulder. “There’s my favourite communist drone,” he answers, playing up his accent on the R’s. Neither of them has told their parents about fucking across old enemy lines.
At the end of the workout, Aaron lets Eric pose for him. With his accustomed superior look in his eyes, Eric watches his sweat-slick, hairless muscles move through his posing routine in the mirrors. He’d look even better if he’d thought to wear his fundoshi under his gym shorts, but that’s probably better kept for the bedroom. Maybe he’ll put it on for Aaron and Blair when they get home from the club tonight.
Come Saturday night, the 1000 cards are nowhere to be found.
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