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nepofmwren · 11 months

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kristine froseth. she/her. cis woman. ›spotted at the met steps , wren lafleur , most likely listening to gypsy by fleetwood mac with their airpods pro . the twenty one gained quite a reputation , known to be -insecure yet +creative to anyone who knows them . you’ll easily spot them when you hear about a smile that can light up a room, mascara stained eyes, a room filled with vintage fashion, dancing barefoot in the rain , followed by eau de soleil blanc eau de toilette by tom ford . latest nepoupdates article talks about making a sex tape with her manager , but i guess any reputation is good reputation .

BASICS

Full Name: Wren Lafleur

Age: 21

Siblings: Wesley Lafleur (fraternal twin brother)

Birthdate: August 18th, 2001

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Hometown: Marseille, France

Current residence: New York, New York

Occupation: social media influencer & model

LIKES/DISLIKES

LIKES: Vintage fashion, Fleetwood Mac & Stevie Nicks, early 2000′s pop music, stuffed animals, cheesy romantic comedies, handwritten notes, Starbucks, chocolate covered strawberries, makeup, shopping, mini skirts, her overflowing shoe closet, Sunday brunches with her besties, daddy’s credit card

DISLIKES: Rude people, spicy/tart food, sleeping in past your alarm, bad hair/makeup days, chipped nail polish, canceled plans, getting spoiled for the end of a book or show, not understanding a joke, being yelled at

MINI BIO

Trigger warning for mentions of anxiety, depression, death

Wren and Wresley were born in France to parents Lisa Kapone and Alain Lafleur, being one of the most famous and prominent names within Europe. Everybody wanted to know and be a member of the Lafleur family, considering her parents had high connections in the hospitality and fashion industries.

Her childhood was nothing short of magical, it being something anybody would envy. Both her and her brother were spoiled rotten by parents that saw them as their 'golden twins'. Their life seemed perfect. Well, almost too perfect that is.

The tone of her family dynamic took a negative turn after the infamous cheating scandel in her parent's marriage along with the passing of their mom. The Lafleur family had one too many scandles hit the front page news and weren't as squeaky clean as others pegged them to me. A preteen Wren didn't quite know how to handle this kind of spotlight on her family.

Wren always was a bit closer with her mom in comparison to her dad ( though she liked to think she had a good relationship with both of them ). So, her death did hit her hard even if she never always outwardly showed it.

Wren began to go to therapy to try to talk through her intense feelings that she was having from her mom's passing. She was diagnosed with panic discorder and depression and was put on medication for both.

Generally, her anxiety has always been worse than her depression. It causing her to lose sleep and effect her day to day life. Thanks to regular therapy and medication, a young Wren was able to be "okay" for the most part.

When she transitioned into her teenage years, Wren would begin her 'rebellious' streak. Befriending older models from photoshoots and shows, she would find herself sneaking off underage to house parties and clubs. Fake ID's didn't really matter when she had major connections thanks to her last name. That chunk of her life ( around fifteen to like nineteen ) was probs her most intense party stages. She is still very much a party goer, but she's tried to clean up her act a lil' bit.

College wasn't much of a thought for Wren, already knowing it would be a waste of time for her. School was never really her thing, even though she graduated from high school with decent marks. The girl knew that she wanted to continue with climbing up the ladder of the fashion world and raise her follower count on social media.

So right now, she's just kinda vibing??? Continuing to take modeling gigs and doing her social media stuff. Her short term goals do include starting a podcast and fashion line.

HC'S/FUN FACTS/OTHER INFO

Wren stopped going to therapy and regularly taking her medication after high school, becoming too busy with her various jobs and feeling like it wasn't necessary for her anymore.

As an alternative, she just hits her dab pen a lot and has found other hobbies to curb her anxious thoughts ( adult coloring books, yoga, making handmade jewerly, etc ).

Wren spent her high school years vlogging her teenage years and posting weekly updates on her youtube channel ( very much Emma Chamberlain tbh ). Overall, she has always wanted to appear geninune and relatable to her fans/audience. Her content ranged from thrifting hauls, school vlogging, get ready with me's, music recs, etc.

As she got a bit older and youtube wasn't become as popular, she transitioned those vlogs over to her instragram and tiktok.

She has been coined as one of the most "powerful" up and coming young influencers in the fashion industry. Basically, teens and other young adults pin her outfits on pinterest and she has made certain "trends" go viral.

Wren is an extroverted introvert. She's very "mirroball / the archer / this is me trying coded." She can be considered a bit of a social chameleon. She can put on a good outwardly appearance when it is needed for her career and social outings. She tries to be friendly and generally see the best in others but ultimately, she tends to keep a smaller inner circle of close friends. When she is in party mode, it's a different story. Bestie is talkative af when she is tipsy and on other sustances.

The rumor about her is 10000% true. She ended up going to a last minute party with her manager that went waaaay too crazy. One thing lead to another and BOOM, a sex tape was recorded. She is pretty terrified of it getting leaked, knowing it would ruin her reputation.

WREN IS A SWIFTIE. She has been one since the start!! If you asked her for her favorite albums from her, she is torn between folklore/ lover / reputation.

Bestie is a hopeless romantic :// known for having her fair share of flings and one night stands but has had very minimal partners. She has a big heart but is very insecure and hasn't quite found the right person to really open up to.

Honestly....she is a bit ditzy. She can have her head in the clouds at times and be a bit naive and be a little too trusting of others who probably will stab her in the back.

Overall, Wren is a very eccentric famous model / influencer who is a pretty messy but means well <33

FULL BIO

coming soon.

#nepofm.intro #about;#anxiety tw #depression tw #death tw

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years

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The Bewitching Hour Part 1 (SITS Smut) Kyohei x MC

I’m thinking of turning this into a series with all the guys in it, so if you enjoy, stay tuned :)!

Warnings: Fingering, Sex

~~~~~~

Work had been trouble lately. Not only was the ghostwriter severely struggling with doing her own job, a lot of the Revance members were on edge because of it. Takashi’s Demon Mode had been making more frequent appearances and many worried for their own safety, few also worrying for the only woman in the house. Not only that, The morning the producer woke up, there was a stranger in their kitchen.

“Who the hell are you and how did ya get in my house?” Kyohei roared at the half naked, rejectfully majestic man that stood at his fridge, peering at the contents like they were going to put themselves together for his breakfast. The man didn’t seem much phased by the shock of one of the inhabitants of the house that wasn’t his, he found it amusing, that showed on the smirky, mysterious grin that appeared on his face when he turned around.

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it, I spent the night.” The admission did nothing to ease Sir Kyo’s suspicion, instead making him more pissed off in the early hour. No one would be a morning person if this is what they had to deal with first thing.

However, before he could argue, demanding him to explain, a high whine came from the far end of the room. “Mitsu~, I told you not to come down until I was ready.” The strangely provacative yet shy call of the young woman, merely dressed in an overbearing sweater and shorts, hair a mess after the activities she had partaken in the past night, shocked the other resident.

“But, my dear, you were taking too long. I was getting a different type of hungry.” The man, surely older than her but a gentlemanly youth about him, cooed, a teasing smirk forming on his lips as he remembered what he had been hungry for only a few hours before this conversation. Masami blushed.

“They call it a walk of shame for a reason, Mistu. Get your stuff before anyone else wakes up.” She crossed her arms in defiance, the brunt of her configuration halted by the notebook she held in one hand. Kyohei recognised it as her writing journal.

“Okay, I guess I can get dressed. Unless you want to keep something for future uses?” The man with fair hair long enough to be pulled back into a long pontail sauntered over to the ghostwriter, leaning over her to steal her lips. Before he could catch them, however, he was blocked by a wad of paper.

“No kissing, Mitsu. It’s in the agreement.” She sighed, almost exhausted with having to remind him all the time. The roll of her innocent eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the slightly distracted producer.

“Hello. What the hell is going on here?” A little pissed with having such a rude introduction, Kyohei made himself known to the couple. The fact he would soon learn about some of her stress relieving habits brought a blush to Masami’s cheeks, trying to hide them with her hand as Mitsu chuckled to himself beside her.

“I-I have those lyrics done, Kyohei. Read through them when you’re ready!” The ball of red quickly made her exit after slapping her notebook on the coffee table in the living area. Mitsu couldn’t help but enjoy the sight Kyohei would usually also be happy to see.

“There’s nothing to fear, sir. Just a trade in professions. You may like the use my services too one day.” With the way Mitsu’s been acting in this extraordinary scenario, Kyohei couldn’t tell what he was suggesting. What was this man’s profession and what did it have to do with Masami?

“If you’d like to see my portfolio, I’d love to comission if you find it desirable.” Only now did Kyohei spot the large art pad held to Mitsu’s body with his arm as he continued to rest his hands in his pockets.

“You’re an artist?” Kyohei, significantly cooled compared to moments ago, grew slightly curious to the man’s offer.

“And Miss Mami is my muse, and I her’s. We arranged it years ago.” The nickname rolled off with such ease it showed how close the two must be. Kyohei almost felt jealous just talking to the man.

“Show me.” He demanded, wanting more to see what had impressed the girl so much to have the obvious relationship they had together. This made that mirthful chuckle reverberate from Mitsu’s chest once again. Despite the clear irritation on the producer’s face, he placed his sketchpad on the kitchen counter and opened it up. Kyohei’s eyes went wide at the images before him.

Pages upon pages of naked women, mostly Masami, framed in comprimising positions, always a lewd look in their eyes. The drawings seemed so realistic, Kyohei almost felt like he was there when it was created, even if they were just sketches- mainly black and white. The one that really caught his eye was the masterpiece on the back page. It was Masami, on her back with her knees pressed to her chest, feet up and vulva on full display. He looked away, an intolerant blush surfacing on his cheeks.

“I’ll say, my most recent piece is my favourite. Masami surely was in her creative flow last night.” A look of pure pride overtook what his usual expression seemed to be as he gazed upon the picture of his business partner. She seemed too innocent most of the time, it was only Mitsu who ever got to see this side of her.

“Creative flow?” Kyohei was drawn by the odd explanation for such a drawing, his gaze following the man as he ripped the page out with little regard to his other pieces.

“You don’t know of her Bewitching Hour? And how long has she lived here?” A tone of pity mixed with amusement filtered out of his mouth as he placed the sheet of paper on the counter before closing his book once again.

“Like any woman, Masami is a powerful being. Sometimes her talent gets too much for her and she can’t seem to let it out at all. She gets so pent up sometimes, I’m man enough to admit even I can’t satiate her creativity.” Mitsu laughed on the memory of an irritated Masami climbing off his lap with a heavy sigh of not being able to pleasure herself with his body. He didn’t mind, he had those nights too, it was the joy of their agreement that made him so confident in his abilities.

“But what’s a Bewitching Hour?” Kyohei was beyong interest by now. For months he had wanted to her his hands on the innocent cutie that lived under his roof. This might finally be his chance.

“It’s just my term for it. She does her best work, in the bedroom and in her songs, at night. The only way she can filter her ideas is in the act, as one would say. On nights I can’t get to her, she’ll desperately play piano. I’ve never heard it myself, but I’m sure its beautiful.” A mesmerised look drifts into Mitsu’s eyes as he imagines all the dirty scenarios he could get into if he could just catch her off guard in one of her musical trances.

“Remember, if you ever hear music in the dead of night, the Bewitching Hour has begun.”

~~~~~~

Several days after the mysterious and mature artist escaped the Revance home without being spotted by any other members, Kyohei has gotten very little sleep. Mostly from anticipation to hear any type of tune drifting through the halls and some due to the thoughts that clouded his brain. How would he initiate such an occasion? Were her trances even a thing? Would it be right to take advantage of that to experience the feelings he’s been waiting so long to feel? Maybe yes, maybe no. It all depended on her, really. If he showed up, made himself known, and she just happened to jump on him, he wouldn’t stop her. Even if she needed a little coaxing, he would be happy to take the place of her muse if for a night. He just wanted to encounter what he had heard, and seen in still images, was so magical.

Then, on one fateful night, a jolly tune bounced in the distance and Kyohei shot up in bed. Where or who it was coming from didn’t matter as long as who it was he hoped it would be. He grabbed a shirt just in case this didn’t turn out how he had hoped and stormed out the door.

In the hallways, following the strangely enticing sound to what must have been from the recording studio, the darkness and tune was a little eery. It was upbeat and fun, but the emptiness of the halls and the hyperawareness that everyone was asleep made a suspicious shiver run up Kyohei’s spine. Please, please don’t let this be Takashi.

Sure enough, through the door that was standing open, was a risquely dressed woman, her fingers jumping along the keys of the keyboard in their in-home recording studio. She was in her pyjamas, a worn tank top that must have been from her teenage years from the cute character on the front and shorts of a different design but just as old. Her hair was up in a rushed bun, sagging to the side when she tilted her head in frustration. Her ideas weren’t flowing the way she wanted them to and Mitsu was in Osaka for an art showing. She had no other outlets.

Except for the man that now stood directly behind her. She didn’t notice him at first, too wound up in her musical whimsy until she felt a warm pressure on her shoulders. She jumped, the electric instrument groaning with a clatter of keys as her fingers slammed down at the unexpected sensation.

“So tense. You need to relax if you want to get your work done in time not to get punished.” A tone she was all too used to breathed on her ear as Kyohei leaned over head, the feeling of his erection pressing into her back. Not that she could feel it, she was too stunned as to why he was here and too busy trying to bay her urges. No matter who it was, she would go for anyone in this state. Before she had met Mitsu, she would go on the prowl in less that suitable establishments, usually mistaken for a prostitute, even though she was the most dressed person on the whole block. Although, it didn’t matter to her, she usually got what she needed.

“Help me then.” The demanding tone spurred Kyohei on, the stern look making him chuckle. She looked as frustrated as Mitsu had made her sound and that led him to believed that this could happen. That he could get what he want. What they both wanted- for whatever different reasons.

Slowly but directly, Kyohei’s fingers from one hand drifted over her bare skin, along her collarbone and arond her neck, making her look up at him by tugging lightly on it. From some of the sketches in Mitsu’s book, she liked and was a frequent user of positions like these. Masami gulped at the heat that suddenly flooded in her.

With that slightly startled but so heavily lustful look in her eyes, Kyohei continued, inching his other hand down her chest and under her top. She moaned the second he tweaked her nipple. Both of their hearts raced at this less than innocent act taking place in such a common area of their home. Masami didn’t think about it, too caught up in trying to filter through the words flying around in her head, but Kyohei was metaphorically shitting bricks. If someone came in, would it be his fault? Would she get angry? The sound of a whimper pulled him out of those thoughts though.

“K-Kyohei, ca-can you... Can you finger me?” The forwardness of Masami’s words and the pleading look in her eyes as he held her face up to meet his gaze caused a shot of arousal to fire through Kyohei’s body and he wasted very little time in pulling her up. He quickly looked around for a surface to lay her on, but there was only the couch and the office chair that didn’t have any important equipment on it, so he pushed her onto the ground, laying her legs over his as he leant over to her. His hand was no longer around her neck, instead both were either side of her head, holding himself up over her.

With her hair sprawled out around her, pale wrists settled close to were his hands were, eyes slightly wide at seeing him in this position and cheeks flushed with desperate but embarrassed need, Kyohei had never been more turned on by any other woman. Masami wasn’t anything special. She didn’t have the ‘perfect’ body or have the greatest make-up skills. She was slow and at times absent-minded, just like right now, she seemed to be concentrating on something else and Kyohei didn’t know that this was what she was usually like in the moment. She was concentrating on her lyrics.

But Kyohei didn’t want that. He wanted all thoughts on him.

So, sitting back onto his heels, he focused all of his attention to her lower half. Palms falling on her knees, which only now had he realised were slightly bruised and was sure they were from the last time she had done something like this, his hands crept up her legs. The warm sensation on her body, chilled by the cold room and limited clothing, sent an excited shiver through her- dispersing any thoughts of music to the side, just for now, just so something could make sense. There was Kyohei Rikudoh, having her straddle him while she was on her back, making his way to her nether region with a look that seemed a little too excited.

But, Masami didn’t have time to think that fact over as she felt some sort of pressure on her clit. She gasped out a moan as she looked down to see Kyohei’s thumb disappearing underneath the fabric of her shorts. The motions on her fastened the more she moaned but the second she got a little louder, it was gone.

But only for a moment. Masami was about to complain before she felt that same digit enter her fully. Although shorter and thinner than some men she’s had, Kyohei’s thumb worked wonders on the nerves that were building up in that area and the nerves that had been in her head for the past few hours. He enjoyed the silent gasping as he pressed in different directions before slipping out and replacing it with his middle finger, once again seeing that short burst of annoyance before her lips parted to take in enough air to remind herself to breath. He wanted so badly to trap those plump things under his, exploring her mouth like it was the Mariana Trench, so, he leaned in.

“No.” A muffled call escaped Masami’s lips as she covered them with her hand, protecting herself from his advances. He stopped his thrusting fingers, wondering if he had hurt her, but she shook her head.

“N-Not on the lips.” She stuttered, the darkest blush she’s had tonight ligthening her face as she kept her hand there. Kyohei was slightly confused, his brows frowning at the strange demand. She would let him fuck her, but she wouldn’t let him kiss her? Well, he knew she was strange, but he didn’t believe it when she had reprimanded Mitsu. He thought it was just because he was there.

“I-If that’s gonna be an issue for you...” Masami led off as she sat up, inched herself away the best she could to keep the distance away from their faces and his fingers, which he hadn’t realised where still in her, slipped out. She bit back a moan at that, too embarrassed and scared to have annoyed him to make a noise.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you.” Kyohei smirked, wanting this more than he wanted to exercise each of his fantasifull whims. Masami’s shoulders eased at that and her gaze wondered down his body.

“Oh?” She muttered at the tent she saw pitched in his shorts. They were loose and thin, something like basketball wear, so she could definitely tell most of that height wasn’t material. She was in for a treat tonight.

With the tilt of her head, she reached forward, pulling down his waist band and helping his cock escape before he could say a word. To his surprise, he panicked as she grabbed it with such gentle fingers his hands flew behind him to keep himself upright. As her knees weren’t hooked over his anymore, she could sit on her own legs as Kyohei’s crossed his in front of him.

Masami knew what she was doing, she had a routine. Something she knew worked every other time she had done this act with someone new, so, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick before licking it.

“You’re rather forward, huh?” Kyohei tried to regain his usual composure as the petite woman before him hardened him so suddenly he worried there’d be no blood left in his skull. She looked up at that incredulous smirk and couldn’t help but blush as she realised what she was doing.

“I want this.” She replied bluntly, not blaming herself for her less than ordinary ways to relieve stress. She licked him one last time before she brought her lips right next to his ear, careful not to let go of his cock. “So, will you fuck me now, Sir Kyo?”

Her questioning tone was almost innocent if not for the words that spilled out of her mouth so easily. Kyohei felt something come over him, an all too familiar feeling of lust, and he pushed her back by her shoulders onto the floor where she had been moments ago. He pulled her shorts and panties off, all in one go, and threw them behind him without much care as to where they ended up.

“You came prepared?” Masami frowned her brows at the condom Kyohei pulled out of his pocket. She wasn’t mad, she was happy he had one, but it did confuse her. She didn’t really know he was aware of her trances.

“Always am, Miss Mami~.” Kyohei’s teasing tone, mimicking the voice of her usual muse, made the girl blush, covering her frown with the back of her hand as she laid there, waiting patiently. She looked too cute for what he was about to do to her.

“Shut up and help me.” She grumbled, reminding him why they were here in the first place, and Kyohei couldn’t help but chuckle. The two stayed in their separate states until Kyohei sharply entered her.

Both mind’s turned into a pleasured fog that distracted either side of this couple from the outside world. Not that anything was happening that they would need to look out for, everyone was asleep and Kyohei hade the foresight to close the door. This allowed them, mostly Masami, to moan to their heart’s content. She clutched the top that fluttered over her as Kyohei towered over, holding himself up with one hand and her right thigh with the other.

“K-Kyohei.” She gasped out, eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him as his hand massaged that part of her leg, waiting for her to be comfortable enough for him to move. He seemed pushy, but he did care, being the secretly thoughtful guy he was. The sound of his name told the producer he could start thrusting.

“You’re so tight.” He grunted as those movements pulled him out of the short but sweet trance he found himself in as he watched the young woman writhe beneath him distracted him from the tightness of her. How could a woman said to be so risque and ravaging seem so virginal?

“Y-You’re just big.” The comment made her blush and she pouted, momentarily preoccupied from the heavenly sensation slowly grinding into her.

“Don’t frown like that. I’m sure you’ve dreamt about this, haven’t you?” He drew even closer to her once again, propped on his elbows as he continued to thrust in and out of her, one hand holding her cheek. He was careful not to make it seem like he would try to kiss her.

The smugness of his tone and sudden hard pound of his hips made Masami’s hands fly down his torso to grip the skin of his behind, hoping it would spur him onto giving her more of that much needed pleasure. “K-Kyohei.” Her ideas were finally organising themselves. She was so close. All she needed was a little encouragement.

“Go on. Scream my name. I know you want to.” Even though his own breathing started to hasten, his heart racing and his words sometimes tripping over themselves, Kyohei tried to seem as cool as he usually was. But, the clawing feeling on his lower back and arching of her’s, pressing their bodies even closer together was just so erotic, he found his own thoughts becoming jumbled. There was so much he wanted to say, so many dirty things he wanted to whisper in her ear to make her blush harder, to stutter his name more, he couldn’t understand any of the words that threatened to spill out of his mouth. Something about loving something, but the shriek of the woman below him pulled his thoughts away from that strange sensation.

“K-Kyohei!” Arms flying up his body and around his neck, pulling him closer and her up so he could snake an arm around her, holding their bodies flush together, Masami couldn’t hold back anymore.

“More. Please. I need so much more!” She whimpered in his ear and he only just realised his thrusts had slowed while he was thinking. Then, one thought made sense. Flipping them over so he was on his back and Masami was sitting on his lap, his cock buried so deep inside her she was sure she must have been hollowed out by him, Kyohei smirked.

“Go on, do it yourself. Use me to inspire you.” Sitting, holding each other, his hand clutching the back of her hair so he could whisper in her ear without risk of her pulling back, Kyohei pulled as much out of her as he could. Albeit the ground prohibitted most of his movement. When he loosened his grip, Masami sat up, looking at him with another one of her cutely questioning expressions.

“How do you- Oh!” Masami gasped as he pushed her hips down, mainly to distract her from her question and also to pleasure himself. Her hands once again clenched the fabric on his chest and she subconsciously started bouncing up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin sounding between them. Heavy breathing, moans of each other’s names, and the smell of hot, sweaty sex filled the room. It was lucky they had good ventilation in here.

It didn’t take much longer for either to finish, coincidentally at the same time, and when they both felt each other’s releases, Masami collasped forward, landing on Kyohei’s chest with a soft thud. She was panting, her thighs aching slightly from the exercise, and Kyohei chuckled, his arms sprawled out either side of him. The two finally had a moment of silence...

...Until Masami jumped up, his penis sliding out of her but she didn’t seem to care much, and yanked her journal from the table she had been struggling over before he showed up. As if this hadn’t just happened, as if one of the most sort of bachelors at the moment wasn’t laying half-naked on the floor behind her, Masami started working. She started pouring her heart out onto the pages in front of her, making quick work of the song she had been struggling with for the past day and a half.

It couldn’t be hidden, Kyohei was a little pissed. He had just had one of the most amazing sex sessions he had ever experiences, and she was still able to make it to the desk chair and write? So, he got up, meaning to turn her around and pound her against that journal that seemed to occupy her thoughts, when she met his stern gaze with a delighted smile. He only now saw the slightly darkened rings under her eyes and, despite that, she still looked adorable.

“Thanks, Kyohei, you were a big help!” Masami cheered, slapping her book shut and standing up, only to find the two much closer than she had anticipated. Both their lower halves were completely on show, but she couldn’t let herself look down. She was beat but, most of all, she was able to write. She had been able to accompish what she set out to do.

Kyohei just chuckled at his own stupidity. He should have understood what Mitsu meant when she really did just use his body to satiate her creativity. This was just a trade in professions, a transferable muse and a writer, nothing more, nothing less.

“Call me if you need anymore help.” He winked, his smug smirk returning to his face as Masami blushed at the offer, turning to find her shorts, throwing them on and running out the door so she could finally get some much needed sleep. What neither of them had realised was the pair of panties, tucked behind a filing cabinet after Kyohei had carelessly thrown them over his shoulder.

#scandel in the spotlight #kyohei rikudoh #sits #voltage games #voltage fanfic #voltage smut

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awkwardlyshyluna · 6 years

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Looking good Kyohei!!!

#voltage inc.#kyohei rikudoh #scandel in the spotlight #voltage inc #love 365

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nevershowweaknessforlettinggo123 · 3 years

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do you think home was leaked?

hi! i'm going to be honest - i am quite sceptical about most theories surrounding Belfast. i do not think Home was leaked. i am quite into law so i am always very wary about artists' abilities to go round certin contract paragraphs - it should not be easy nor common.

the ep was released mere HOURS after that cancellation. i highly doubt the idea was thrown together during that period. the perfect mv was given to us on the 21st - it was a Wednesday. this does throw me off, i am not going to lie - Friday releases are still by far the most popular ones. but fair enough. maybe the original plan was to have it released on Friday and things got sped up. the ep came with the music video. all of it happened just a day after the concert. the same day Louis tweeted:

the ep was released onto Spotify that day and the other streaming platforms also had it "on deck" within 24 hours. Louis brought attention to that song - but it would still have got quite a bit of it, after all it was a new One Direction track.

so no. i do not think the song was leaked. Louis just happened to bring in into some additional spotlight - probably partly to dim the “scandel” of the previous night.

thanks for the question, loved answering it!

#home #leaked?#one direction #louis tomlinson

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toloveawarlord · 5 years

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I've played 3 routes so far on Scandel in the Spotlight and I've learned that I am one dramatic bitch😂 All 3 I got the dramatic route the first time. I had to use a walkthrough to get to the romantic.

#dramatic route for the angsty writer #but damn they were gooood #scandal in the spotlight #voltage

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jaenomins · 7 years

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give me two singers that have to hide their relationship from the public. muse a is really bad at emotions and can easily hide how they are feeling, but muse b is an emotional person and can’t help but lovingly gaze at muse a whenever they cross paths at awards shows or in daily life. give me angst s muse a tries to pull away from muse b to make it easier on them, give me the fights when muse b doesn’t want to hide anymore, but their companies strictly tell them not to go public. give me the scandel of when pictures are taken of them out and about, and the angst of trying to navigate a world in which half their fanbases hate them and the other half support them. give me two adults growing and maturing as they explore being in a relationship under the spotlight.

#plots.#1x1 rp #1x1 roleplay #1x1 #plots

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tumbirus · 5 years

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Crual Muzaffarpur in Bihar, A children's health crisis in this Bihar district puts spotlight on sate,s governance, where is the Bihar political leaders,where is the medical high five one doctors,where is Delhi aimed,where is human right workers,where is child care unit ,where is the congress party,where is the making India governments ,where is waist chef minister Bihar government,where is Bihar health minister,arrest to any ones fail this ones,poor's vote get after poor's hop give one useless all,today poor family children's dead baby stay to see Krishna medical college,what do this one,who help to this ones,why vote get you all political cheaters ,answer give to Indian peoples and Indian justice,so Bihar chef minister and health minister immidiatly resign to good,fail you all,not care to Bihar public life or development you all,so out. I its been a tragic summer for too many children in muzaffarpur Bihar ,India.The death toll due to encephalitis has risen above 100 most of the reported daths have taken places in srikrishna medical collage and hospital,SKMCH superintend has said that the countrywide doctors strike would not have any reported to have encephalitis patients.But overall the strike is reported to have paralysed health services in Bihar,during an intense heat wave. But there is no point is blaming nature. For example several children have died due to hypoglycaemic encephalopathy caused by eating the lychee fruit,where Bihar is the largest lychee producer in India.producing 40% of the fruit has become toxic for these unlucky children only because their blood sugar levels are low due to undernourishment consider the several levels at which the state has fails these children-from making sure they are adequately -fed to educating their parents about consuming lychees on an empty stomach to providing satisfactory treatment at hospitals. Last year muzaffarpur made headlines for shelter home scandel where children had been systematically abused and even murders.providing education and health care are basics of governance.It now seems that the Nitish Kumar government has been shipping on this job...cou (at Mumbai, Maharashtra) https://www.instagram.com/p/By2zEEtlBJi/?igshid=ykpoksni2xcw

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thenoxsisters · 7 years

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MC's Names

Star-crossed Myth ~ Selene Nox (Twins) Scandel in the Spotlight ~ Cera Nox Kissed by the Baddest Bidder ~ Sephira Nox Enchanted in the Moonlight ~ Nix Nox (Twins) Bultler till Midnight ~ Lily (Lilith) Nox My Forged Wedding ~ Corva Nox 10 Days with the Devil ~ Victoria Nox Mystic Messenger ~ Cassi (Cassiopiea) Nox Be My Princess ~ Rhea Nox Be My Princess 2 ~ Eris Box

OC’s Names

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dudja · 6 years

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Tweeted

At this point This dude basically saying anything to stay relevant because his music isn’t keeping him relevant, it’s the drama and the child sex scandel, and his BIG MOUTH that keep in the spotlight and you news sites eat it up https://t.co/cpk1FntjD9

— Adam (@420SmokeyMcPot) November 12, 2018

#IFTTT #Twitter

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capecoddaily · 5 years

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WESTBOROUGH -Dominick “Jim” Arena, the former Edgartown Police Chief at the helm of the department during the Chappaquiddick scandal, has died. He was 89 and passed away in Westborough. The national spotlight fell on Arena after Senator Ted Kennedy drove off the Dyke Bridge on Chappaquiddick the night of July 18th,... .

#Cape Cod Daily News

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random-army-blog · 7 years

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Hello everyone! So, without beating around the bush, I decided to make a Scandal In The Spotlight amino community! To anyone not familiar with the amino apps, Amino is an app that is full of communities that people made based on their intrests. A community gives its members the opportunity to conect with people of shared intrests. In the community, you can post blogs, chat with other members, hold polls... the list is endless! So, seeing how there is no SITS community, I decided to make one! Now, the community is still brand new and currently I'm the only member. But I hope that if enough fans here about this some will join and we will a fully functioning community! Above there is a link to the community itself. If you still have questions please message me. If you are intrested please help spreading the word so more fans can hear about this! Thank you!

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years

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MC and Estranged Father (Scandel In The Spotlight)

This isn’t really a HC or coupley thing, just an idea I had and couldn’t stop writing. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear your thoughts!

~~~~~~

It had been a dreary few days in the Revance house. Masami’s temper was far shorter than usual, ever since she got a letter in the mail that she wouldn’t even let Nagito see. Not even when Kyohei teasingly threatened her. She was too distracted by the contents and no one knew why. It was like her current mood had affected the beautiful spring weather. It had been raining cat and dogs for the past week!

The contents of the letter, from her father, were locked away in Masami’s desk draw. He had rarely been around in her childhood. He was a workaholic, who somehow had time for plenty other women than her mother. He sent her money on her birthday and hardly ever showed up to her parent-teacher conferences- his excuse was being on the other side of the world at a concert he was holding. They always seemed to occur in the most important times in her childhood.

She still got those montetary gifts on her birthday- it was the only one she got this year as no one else in the house actually knew it was her birthday and since her mother passed, she didn’t care much for it. But, this year was different. This time, it came with a note.

That letter expressed his regret for the way he treated her and her mother- the two had never married as Masami was an accident, but he was a man with pride and would support his own offspring no matter what. Financially anyway. Masami didn’t care much for an apology from the man she hardly knew anything about except for what the press told her. Her mother was a kind woman who never told her anything bad about him, so she grew up not believing anything she told her. This man didn’t even come to her mother’s funeral, why was he suddenly getting friendly now?

However, the thing that really angered her about that massage was his wish to meet her. He had somehow found out she was living with a group of male superstars, and she wasn’t sure how. However, knowing his connections in the industry, it was likely someone from Revance’s managerial company. Her father was his own type of superstar, however slightly niche to the younger generations.

The letter told her he would be visiting the house on a specific day, after he finished one of the last concerts he said he was ever going to do. He told her he was quiting performing his music to the masses and was going to concentrate on the personal life he had abandoned for too long. Masami thought it was too late for that, but she wasn’t going to make herself scarce- it would just cause trouble for the others for a random stranger to show up on their doorstep, asking for her.

So, on that faithful day a week after the gloominess on the usually ‘peaceful’ house settled, the rain had finally let up. Not metaphorically, physically. Masami was in an even worse mood than she had already been and the sky outside was covered in white clouds, but at least the plant life wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, be flooded today.

“Hey, um, Masami... Are you feeling okay?” Nagito sheepishly approached her as she sat at the dining table, where she had holed herself up lately. At the beginning of this week-long, slient, rampage, the dirty idol had been able to tease her without trembling in fear of her wrath. Now, he was too scared to even speak in her presence.

She had been trying to distract herself with work until the door bell rang, but it wasn’t much use. This was like the worst type of writer’s block she had ever had. She could write just fine, just not the stuff she should be writing. The lyrics she wrote were hateful and annoyed when she should be writing about young love and growing old with your significant other. Takashi definitely wouldn’t be happy if he saw the scrawlings in her journal.

“Just peachy.” The sarcasm was thick in her venomous words, not looking up to see the rest of Revance grouped together behind Nagito, peering and waiting to see what would happen next. Lets just say he lost a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

“Th-That’s great!” Not knowing what else to say, Nagito retreated, only to get rapped up the side of his head.

“That did nothing!” Kyohei glared in a hushed tone, not wanting Masami to know he had sent in one of his lieutenants to gather information.

“But Kyoo~, I don’t know what else I can do! She didn’t even blush when she walked in on me in the shower room yesterday.” Nagito sulked. It wasn’t like Masami to get used to the sight of his body and he knew she was too deep in thought in the moment to even see him. She almost started stripping herself before he could escape. The loud and long sigh she let out didn’t go unnoticed, but he was much too scared to ask at the time.

Before the boys could go about hashing another plan to find out what had been bugging her so much, the door bell rang.

“I’ll get it.” Kota grumbled, being the closest. However, just as he was getting up, he was pulled back down by an unbelievable force on his shoulder.

“It’s not for you.” Masami glared down at him and even Iori showed a look of bewilderment at the harshness of her eyes. It was like they could see fire raging behind them.

Masami wasted no time in leisurely strolling to the door, although in her head it was the hesitance to open it that made her so slow. She really, really didn’t want to see her father or hear anything he had to say to her, not after her mother died, but what was the use of pushing him away? One thing she believed about her father that her mother had told her is that he persistent and ambitious. How else could you become one of the most famous and sort after composers in the world?

With a growling sigh, she forced herself to let her hand rest on the door handle before turning it, throwing it open just to get this awkward reunion over with.

Only, the victim of her contempt wasn’t her father, but none other than the group’s kind-hearted manger. “M-Mr Sasayama?” She finally showed an expression other than irritation, which was shock and shame. Sasayama had an astonished look of his own face to see the usually happy, yet sometimes defeated, girl so angry.

“Masami, have the boys been difficult? Do you want me to intervene?” He was quick to offer his help, but that only reminded Masami why she had opened the door in the first place. She almost felt like tearing up, but she promised herself she wouldn’t. Her father didn’t deserve to hurt her like he had.

“No. No, thank you, Mr Sasayama, I’m fine. Would you like to come in?” She forced herself to smile, just to get someone off her back for a bit so she could sort out her thoughts and emotions. The constant questioning and seemingly worried members had been grinding on her already worn nerves and she certainly didn’t need any sympathy from someone else she looked up to.

As Sasayama was walking through the door she held open, her expression falling just while his back was turned, another voice called out from the street. Both turned, both surprised by what they saw. It was a man, no surprise there because the sound of Masami’s name had been very low, with greyed and some white stranded hair. It was long enough to reach the bottom of his ears, the front curtains pushed back by circular, black-framed glasses resting on top of his head. He held a fabric hat screwed up in his hands, either a beenie or a flat cap niether could tell. His face, wrinkled and aged by cigarettes, was contort in a worried expression, part of his bottom lip pinched between whitened teeth. He wore a grey blazer with black elbow patches, a black turtle neck and grey suit pants that matched his jacket. His whole aura was gloomier than the overcast weather.

“M-Masami?” Through panting breathes, the man’s tone was asking, unsure if the woman that stood before him was really his own flesh and blood. He shouldn’t be so unsure, she was the spitting image of her gorgeous mother- except for the unimpressed and stressed expression on her youthful face.

Masami didn’t let go of the door, nor did she make any move to voice an invite, so the manager that still stood beside her felt the need to speak up. “M-Mr Sakamoto! What are you doing here?” Sasayama couldn’t hold back his surprise to see such a world-renouned man standing at his band’s doorstep, the slightest shine on his forehead and the deepest crease between his brows.

“Mr Sasayama, go inside, would you?” Masami tried to be polite, but since she had calmed herself down from meeting the manager instead of her estranged family member, she had been caught off-guard. Her mood was a hundred times worse than moment before- if that was even possible.

“Miss Masami, I don’t th-.”

“Is he the one you asked?” Masami cut the man off, something she would never usually do, but she was just so pissed off. It was bad enough to suspect someone at the agency would leak information like this, but their own manager? He could have caused a lot more trouble than this mess.

“N-No, an old friend of mine...” Her father led off, awkardly avoiding eye contact as he felt himself relax. It was a relief to know he hadn’t just gone up to a random woman and assumed it was his daughter. One hand reached up to his neck to pull at the now suffocating fabric around it. For once he wished he had a different taste in fashion.

“Get in then. Or are you just going to stand there and waste more time than you already have with me?” After a sigh, Masami spat those words out like they were covered in deadly poison. Sasayama didn’t know what to say, nor did the men standing at the end of the hallway, having listened in to see what all the fuss was about. The composer gulped before nodding and Masami let him in, slamming the door behind him to try an let out some frustration.

After taking his shoes off, Masami guided him into the garden, the Revance boys escaping from her sight before she found out how they were about to invade her privacy. They would have discussed their confusion about the man’s appearance, some aware of who he was and some not, but they were too eager to speak in case they missed something in the tense conversation that was sure to arise.

Sitting across from each other at the outside dining table, Masami’s leg crossed over the other with her arms overlapping each other and the celebrity sitting with his hands clasped together and head drooped like some sort of pray, the two definitely didn’t seem any sort of related. It was like Masami was reprimanding him with just her decerning gaze, which was fair. The man had been an awful dad to her and a more than terrible lover to her mother. The minimum he had done for her was offer child support while telling her mother he loved her, which was definitely false if he was able to sleep with whatever woman came up to him after a show or red carpet.

“Are you going to start talking or do I need to gain clairevoyance?” Masami’s tone was dull and low, something the boys couldn’t hear but could definitely see her lips moving. Sakamoto shot up, his wrinkled hat crushed even more in his hands.

“Ye-Yes... Yes, sorry, I’m the one who asked to meet you.” A quiet and unsure tone was odd for this man, not that any of them knew as no one had actually met him, but the rich aura he gave off gave them a clue he would usually be confident in himself.

“More like you announced you would be coming without even asking if I wanted to meet you.” Masami glared and Sakamoto almost felt like laughing if he wasn’t so scared. Her mother always had a stern glare when she was mad at him and Masami mimicked her so well. Instead, he settled on trying to hide a dopey grin.

“I knew you wouldn’t want to see me but I need you to know... I... I’m quiting composing.” This was a lot for her father to say and anyone could see that in the slight quiver in his voice. His posture was now straight, his true height bearing an air of sanguinity and positivity if he wore his usual confident grin.

“You said.” Masami couldn’t care less what this man did with his life, he didn’t when she was growing up. But she still didn’t know what he wanted her to know or why he was doing it. It did make her a little curious, but not enough to ask. Not enough to even allow him to think she cared.

“Yes, I guess I did. Well, I know I didn’t say I’m moving back to Japan.” The attempt to lighten the mood drastically failed when Masami’s facial expression didn’t change in the slightest. Sakamoto lived in Australlia. Masami was told she had gone to his house a few times, but she didn’t remember. She only remembered his absence.

“Why would you do that? Isn’t your life in Sydney?” Masami blurted out without thinking. The question gave her father a little hope.

“I know you hate me for what I did to you and your mother. I know I wasn’t a father to you. I know I ran away from that responbility. From raising you. And... I’m done running.” Sakamoto finally met her gaze with something other than defeat. He was determind to reconstruct the bridges he had burnt with his last living relative. It hadn’t been made public, but he had a health scare not only a month ago and it gave him the existential crisis he needed to realise how wrong he had truly been. He regreted what he had done and wanted to meet the woman his truest love had raised. Was that so wrong?

“Are you... Are you fucking kidding me?” Masami finally raised her voice for the first time she has been living in this house, and maybe ever, and that made everyone but her jump. She was a monster, standing up in an attempt to ease her fury. She didn’t like getting mad, but there was no other option when it came to this man.

“You didn’t come to my high school graduation. You didn’t come to my 18th birthday party. You didn’t even call me, ever, when I was growing up! Even after mom’s funeral I never heard from you on the subject except for a condolence letter! And you think you can come here and say some cliche words, which I’m sure I’ve heard in a movie, and think everything will be a-okay?” Masami started listing off her father’s shortcomings, even going the extra mile to raise a finger for each one. She paced back and forth, trying so hard not to cry. She was so, so mad...

And so, so happy. For once in her life she felt like her father loved her, or at least accepted her, even if they were just empty words. But, that made her feel guilty. The man that had ruined her mother’s life by abandoning her with a baby to raise on her own when she was just as young and as ambitious. She was a violinist, but she had to quit to take care of this girl that had fallen into her lap.

“I know I was an accident and you didn’t want children, but, god, even the worst parents stick around for their child. They don’t abandon them to a single mother with dreams of her own! She was too good to you, you know that right? She had nothing else but compliments for you! She made you out to be this hard working genius, even though you were in the tabloids every other week! And no amount of money is going to be able to pay back that pain.” Pulling a familiar envelope out of her back pocket, Masami slapped it on the table in front of her. It was far thicker than anyone else who had seen it remembered it being. It wasn’t even possible to seal it again.

“This is..?” Sakamoto led off as he picked up the envelope and peered inside, eyes wide at the millions of yen that were stacked there. Ever since Masami was her own person and made her own money, she never spent any of the money her father had sent her. She didn’t want to, she felt like it was blood-money, and she had waited for the day to shove it back in his face. Showing him she didn’t need him.

“It’s all the money you sent me since mom died. You can count it if you like. I don’t need it, I have my own job.” Masami scowled, crossing her arms in an attempt to reject anything further he would try to offer her.

“How... How did you do that?” Sakamoto was at a lost for words, the bills in his hand as heavy as the weight of the world. All that time he thought he was helping her and this is what happens?

“I sold stories to a publishing firm and comissioned poetry to couples. It’s not hard. I guess I got that creativity from you? It’s the only useful thing, anyway.” Avoiding eye contact, the boys darted out of the door way, hoping she hadn’t seen them before she looked in their direction. Even Sasayama had joined them now, although guiltily.

“...Masami... You need to take this.” Sakamoto’s tone was finally strong, his voice heavy with demand. The daughter jumped, surprised to hear those specific words and looked back at him to make sure she had heard him right. He seemed... angry?

“I don’t need it. I’m sure you’ll find a use for it, going into retirement.” Masami’s voice faltered for a moment, but her resolve to hinder any further reason for him to get in contact amped her up. There was no sign of her budging in the sterness of her own tone.

“Noriko-”

“Keep her name out of your mouth.” Masami was quick to interrupt her father from belittling her mother by reguarding her so casually. She may be dead, but that only made it worse. She wouldn’t be hear to defend herself.

“...I got a letter from your mother before she died.” Sakamoto sighed, placing the money softly on the table and reaching into his own back pocket. Sliding along the table under his fingertips was an old-looking piece of paper, the edges curled with time and what might have been stains from a clear liquid. When Masami snatched it from him and brought it to her face, she could smell the distinct scent of vodka.

Masami wasted no time in unfolding the letter apparently sent by her mother and instantly started tearing up at the familiar but forgetten handwriting. Her mother’s penmanship was poor, to say the least, but that didn’t mean it was illegible. Still, Sakamoto announced a summary on the letter, just in case.

“She told me to support you whole-heartedly and critised me for the I’ve done so far.” Sakamoto let out a low, soft chuckle at the memory of the only woman he’s ever loved. She was a strong person, stronger than him, and he knew he let her down. It’s what made the usually positive chortle sound so depressed.

“She told me to make sure you got through college, so I set up the scholarship program at the place she said you wanted to go to. She told me to help you find your first car, so I sent the money and a brochure. She told me to help you get your first job, but I didn’t even know what you wanted to be. She told me to do so many things that I hadn’t been able to do because I was selfish, and I’m still failing her. I... I loved her and I wasn’t there for her...” The weight of all those years of guilt pushed down on Sakamoto’s shoulders. Usually, if she wasn’t so distracted by the letter from beyond the grave right in front of her, Masami would be screaming bloody-murder so even suggested he cared for her mother. Abandoning someone isn’t love. It’s cowardice and fear. You can’t throw away someone’s life for a one-night stand and call it love. That’s what she believed.

“She sent me letters about you every year. Telling me how much you had grown and how you were doing in school. I never replied because I didn’t know what to say...” Sakamoto took a deep breath to go off on another tangent, but no words came when he saw his daughter, alone for so many years, with tears gliding down her face and onto the paper in her hands. She sniffled when she noticed him staring and turned, using the sleeve of her jumper to dry her face quickly.

“She was too good to you...” Her voice came out hoarse, both from her crying and yelling, and Sakamoto let out a relieved sigh to know she was too emotional to scream again.

“You said.” Was words that shouldn’t have been said, really, at such an emotional point in their relationship and how traumatic this was for Masami, but she couldn’t help but let out a low, breathy chuckle that no one heard or saw with her back still turned. He was as cocky as her mother had told her.

“... Masami?” Sakamoto called out again, his tone high and questioning once again, asking if it would be alright for him to speak again. Masami turned to see him reaching out for her, but the distance was too great for either of them to meet each other and he was still sitting down. She didn’t make a move towards him, but by holding his eye contact the composer knew he was permitted to continue.

“I know you hate me. You should. Really, you should never forgive me...” Sakamoto led off as he thought of things to say.

“This is meant to help your case?” Masami chuckled, turning fully towards him but not growing any closer. The boys remerged now that no one was looking in their direction.

“I ruined your mother’s life, and she gave me the greatest gift I could have asked for. She told me to keep composing and working to be the best I could be while she raised a daughter everyone could be proud of and happy to be around. She didn’t want to give up on her dream, but I, admittedly, gave her no choice. You’re right, I didn’t want children...." Even though he was a man with extraordinary talents, Sakamoto didn’t seem much to be one with words. He stumbled and shared too much, but Masami appreciated that about him. She had that same issue when she was writing her songs. She got too excited, wrote too much, and had to cut out a lot. It took practice and time to be able to just say what needs to be said without rambling.

Maybe...

Maybe that’s what their relationship needed?

“But I want to know you, Masami. We’re all we’ve got left and you’re all I have left of her. I’ll give up anything to prove to you I want to be your father.” Sakamoto met her discerning gaze with that same determinded glare he had given her moments ago. Now it was her turn to say the wrong thing before turning it around.

“You’ll never be my father.” The words drifted out of her mouth as she clenched her fists at her side, slightly crinkling the old, hardened letter in one hand. Sakamoto’s heart broke right there and then.

“My mother was my father. And my aunt. My sister. She was my best friend. She raised me as if we had a huge family and I never felt alone... But...” Masami stopped herself before she could go off on her own tangent, telling herself not to beat around the bush.

“... I guess you can work on becoming my dad?” Masami grew shy, clutching her hands in front of her as she glared at the ground. She had always wanted to know what he was really like. Who wouldn’t? It’s your father. Even if she hated him, if there was a chance, that little girl who didn’t have anyone to meet her first boyfriend and warn him about getting overly-friendly wanted to know him. The girl who didn’t have anyone to protect her at fairs when her mother as busy with work. The girl who wanted to play wrestle with her father but her mother was too tired to act like that. They wanted to have him in her life.

Sakamoto shot up the second he heard those words. Sure, he wasn’t a much for true affection, but one time couldn’t hurt, right? He inched closer to her, timidly lifting his hands up to her shoulders and closed them around her. He was stiff and awkward, not knowing how to hold his daughter.

Which made her giggle. She laughed and laughed at how formal her own father seemed and couldn’t keep it in. Her whole life was an extraodinary circumstance, so when everything got weirder, like now, when she was reuniting with the man she hated for so long, she couldn’t help but find it funny.

“You think she’s finally cracked?” Iori mumbled, cringing as he watched the babbling idiot trying to cover her tittering with her hand as the two leaned away from her.

“It really was a roller coaster, huh?” Nagito laughed sheepishly, earning another rap around the head for being so loud.

“I’m going to sleep.” Kota grumbled, acting tired and bored. Really, he wanted to get away before Masami surely noticed them in this sensitive time.

“Her dad’s Hanzo Sakamoto?” Takashi could help but mumble to himself as he glared at the ground. The famous composer was a sort of inspiration for him.

“Hopefully now she won’t bite our heads off the second we speak in front of her.” Kyohei sighed, getting up with the others but leaving a quick glance at the newly formed family in their garden. The skies cleared for weeks after that day.

#sits #scandel in the spotlight #kyohei rikudoh #nagito aoshima #kota igarashi #iori enjo #takashi ninagawa #voltage fanfic #voltage games

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