#taiato

[pennyartistblog84]

Thought it was about time I drew something for pride. So GO TAIATO!!!!!🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[digitalworldbound]

matches (taiato)

to whomever. happy valentine's day.

The sun shone obtrusively against Taichi’s goggles, momentarily blinding Yamato. It was uncharacteristically warm for the beginning of the year, both boys discarding their jackets as soon as they stepped foot onto the soccer pitch.

“Just one game. Please.” Taichi’s eyes were wide and hopeful, and even at the tender age of twelve, Yamato knew he would do whatever it took to keep that look on Taichi’s face.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Goggles nestled tightly in his hair, Taichi took off, flying across the half-frozen field. Yamato could see his own breath, quick bursts of fog that temporarily obscured his vision. Growing up with a single father had equipped him with a vague understanding of sports. Still, Yamato’s basic understanding was no match for Taichi’s prowess. Brown hair fluttered in the wind, smile brighter than the sunshine. It had taken Yamato’s breath away, but only for a moment. Muscles burning, Yamato pushed himself faster, further, trying to be a worthy opponent.

It had only taken them four matches to tire out, leaning helplessly against a nearby bench.

Half of a bottle of water tight in his grasp, Taichi’s chest heaved with exertion. “You know,” he started, words broken up between gasps of breath. “I didn’t know you could play like that. Why don’t you sign up for a team, or something?”

Blond hair plastered to his forehead, Yamato paused for a moment. Words gathered on the tip of his tongue, almost shattering their silence. ‘I only like soccer when I play with you.’

His teeth bit back the odd confession, heart beating haphazardly. Where had that come from? Taichi raised an eyebrow, patiently waiting for a response. Blue eyes met brown, Yamato’s throat growing uncomfortably dry. He managed a shrug, gripping his water bottle with white knuckles.

Taichi’s hair was tousled, sticking up in all directions. Usually, Yamato would tease him about it, but the sun illuminated his golden skin, eyes shining with happiness and what was happening?

For a moment, Taichi’s bottom lipped puffed out in disappointment. “But we could be teammates, Yama.”

“Aren’t we already?” It was meant to come out light-hearted; a joke to lift Taichi’s spirits. Instead, a shadow cast itself underneath chocolate eyes, a chill in the air that not even the sun could chase away.

The soccer ball fidgeted in Taichi’s hands. It had only been a few months after their endless summer together; Yamato’s heart ached for Gabumon.

“Of course we are, Taichi.” His hand reached out towards his best friend, grasping him with trembling fingers. “It’s just hard, right now.”

Without warning, the soccer ball flew from Taichi’s hands, a singular kick projectiling it towards the other side of the field. “This blows, man. It’s Valentine’s, and I can’t even show Agumon all the good candy.”

A laugh escaped from Yamato’s lips, loud and brash. “You know what, Taichi? You’re right; Agumon would’ve loved tasting all of your chocolates. Maybe we should go out and buy some in his honor.” Yamato lifted his water bottle to his lips, taking a large sip as he caught his breath.

Taichi’s face spun towards him, eyes flickering through emotions. Finally, he settled on hope, a goofy grin working its way onto his face. “It’s a date!”

Yamato nearly choked.

[digitalworldbound]

Could you do a Yamachi with the prompt where Yamato ask “D..did you just make that noise?” Taichi can purr or something

Number 20: “D-Did you just make that noise?”

Characters: Taichi/Yamato. I tried to make this one short ‘n’ sweet, day-in-the-life esque. I like the idea of Yamato and Taichi having a simple, caring relationship. And, honestly, I couldn’t resist the idea of Taichi purring.

Send me a prompt if you’d like! 

Old re-runs droned from the television, two pairs of eyes only half-heartedly following the characters. A head of unruly brown hair had nestled itself in Yamato’s lap, glazed eyes being the only indicator of how late it had become. An old, yellow blanket was tucked around Taichi’s body, and the blonde couldn’t help but to think he resembled a burrito. His boyfriend giggled at something on-screen, eyes glancing upwards to gauge Yamato’s reaction. The blonde laughed, if only for Taichi’s sake. He stopped watching the cartoon a while ago, finding more interest in the tiny freckles that adorned his boyfriend’s cheekbones.

The day had been fueled by adrenaline, the athlete playing a double-header against their university’s biggest competitor. Taichi channeled his energy into leading his team to victory, striking the winning goal with only seconds to spare. After a warm shower and a homemade meal, the boy practically melted into the worn cushions of their couch.

Yamato’s fingers, calloused from years of guitar playing, seemed to have a mind of their own. Slowly, they threaded themselves through thick strands of silky brown hair. Taichi’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the gentle caress. A look of peace had settled on the leader’s face, melting the tension in his eyebrows. Yamato refused to miss a second of it. He curled his fingers, scratching Taichi’s scalp in the way he liked best (behind his ears, the base of his neck, anywhere, really).

An intrusive, hoarse sound reverberated on his palm. It caught him off guard, causing the grip Yamato had in his boyfriend’s hair to tighten. He idly wondered if Taichi had snuck in another stray cat into their apartment. “What the hell was that?” he questioned; blue eyes wide as he stared incredulously. Taichi’s cheeks grew warm, his eyes persistently trailed to the flashing colors of the television. Knowing his look of guilt better than anyone, Yamato had to ask: “Did you just make that noise?”

Taichi, face stained the color of rose petals, buried himself into the blanket, frayed fabric obscuring his words. “Huh? What’d you say?” A small tuft of brown hair poked out from beneath its shelter. The boy mumbled something about “it just felt nice” and “I didn’t mean to”, but Yamato couldn’t hear him. The sound of his own laughter drowned out the cartoon playing listlessly in the background as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact the he caught the Savior of the World purring like a kitty-cat.

[digitalworldbound]

If you are still doing requests can you do a Yamachi where Yamato says “They didn’t just find out. They already knew!” While Taichi is trying calm Yamato down.

Number 61: “They didn’t just find out. They already knew!”

Characters: Taichi x Yamato. I went a different route with this one. I’m not very good at writing angst, but I tried to put a little in here. Anyway, I hope you like this!

This story mentions epilepsy and has slight language towards the end! I did some research, but if something is incorrect about the portrayal, I sincerely apologize.

Send ya girl a prompt!

Yamato’s hoodie did little to protect him from the draft of the air conditioner. One look at his wristwatch told him that he had been seated in the waiting room for three hours, but the tension in his gut had yet to dissipate.

The nurses had yet allowed him back to see his brother.

Yamato’s hands were still quivering, but he shut his eyes and leaned back into the chair. Since Takeru had entered middle school, it was harder for the pair to find time for one another. The brother’s exchanged texts in between basketball practice and band rehearsals, finally deciding on eating dinner at their dad’s house. He remembered trying to teach Takeru one of his newest recipes, but Yamato had to turn around for a few seconds to grab some ingredients. A few seconds, apparently, was as long a Takeru needed to convulse on the kitchen floor.

Yamato called the ambulance first, tears thickening his throat. He held Takeru, unresponsive, in his lap. Their limbs tangled in awkward angles, but Yamato didn’t have time to think about comfort. Taichi picked up on the first ring. Looking back, Yamato realized his must have been screaming. His throat still stung.

Someone cleared their throat. Without peeking through his lashes, Yamato knew that Taichi had brought him dinner. After the call, Taichi appeared at Yamato’s doorstep, sweaty and breathless. He put his arm around the blond’s shoulder as they loaded Takeru into the ambulance and offered to grab them both a bite to eat while they waited on his parents to get off work.

The scent of Yamato’s favorite takeout made his stomach grumble. His stomach had already twisted itself into anxious knots, and the cheeseburger smell almost made him nauseous. Wordlessly, Taichi tossed a greasy bag onto the table beside him. “I got you your favorite,” he whispered, “Has the doctor said anything yet?”

Sitting up, Yamato nearly chuckled. “Why are you whispering? And, no, I haven’t heard anything yet. It shouldn’t be too much longer, though.”

As if on cue, a nurse called out his name. “Hello, sir, are you the primary guardian of Takaishi Takeru?” the young man asked. His stiff shoulders and clipped tone put Yamato on edge, but he tried not to let his panic show. “Um, no, but I am his older brother. Our parents are trying to get here as soon as possible, but they are both stuck at work.”

The nurse only blinked once before glancing back down at his clipboard. “Well, as of right now, Takaishi-san has been stablized. He woke up about thirty minutes ago asking for you, but we need to monitor him for a bit longer.”  The tension temporarily melted from the blond’s shoulders. ‘Takeru-kun is fine, he’s going to be okay.’

“However,” the nurse continued, “We need to up his dosage of Carbamazepine. Has he been taking his medicine regularly?”

His heart stuttered. “Medicine? What do you mean? He doesn’t take medicine.” In the blink of an eye, Taichi was by his side.

“Our records indicated that Takaishi-san takes two 350mg of Carbamazepine daily to decrease his seizures.”

Yamato was thankful for the arm that Taichi wrapped around his waist. “Seizures?” His voice was hushed. The nurse looked at him, confusion etched into his features. Yamato’s bewildered gaze prompted the nurse to elaborate.  “Takaishi-san had a seizure that was caused by his epilepsy.” 

“What are you talking about? My brother doesn’t have epilepsy. He fell in the kitchen! He probably has a concussion or something.” The blond’s voice had become shrill, the sheer volume making the nurse flinch. Panic had begun to set in, Yamato’s breathing becoming shallow. 

“Thank you so much for your help. We will let you know when his parents show up.” Taichi smiled warmly, finishing his statement with a slight bow. The brunette tugged Yamato back towards their seats, food becoming cold.

Throat dry and hands trembling, the blond’s clammy fingers struggled to dial his father’s number.  “Here, let me help.” Taichi’s warm grip slipped the cellphone from his grasp, then pressed the speaker against Yamato’s ear. A tip-lipped smile expressed his gratitude as the blond took the phone from his friend’s grip. 

The ringing was rattling in his mind. ‘Epilepsy? Since when has Takeru-kun had seizures?’ His father picked up on the fifth ring. “Dad?” his own voice sounded far away. Silence stretched on. “Hey, I’m on the train now. How is he?” His father’s gruff voice sounded strained. 

Yamato glanced Taichi’s way, his blue eyes pleading. “It’s best just to go ahead and tell him, Yama.”

Taking a deep breath, Yamato tried to regain his composure. “Takeru-kun apparently forgot to take medicine, but, like,” he paused to catch his breath, “Dad, did you know that he has epilepsy? When he fell in the kitchen, Takeru-kun was having a seizure. Dad, I’m scared.”

The blond braced himself for the onslaught of inquiries his father was sure to have. Yamato had his own list of unanswered questions. “Oh,” his father breathed out, “He’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, so stay put. Love you.”

“Wh-” Yamato’s response was cut off by the dial tone. Dumbly, he dangled the cellphone between his fingers. As the gears were turning in his mind, Taichi gently rubbed his back. “Hey, Yama, is everything okay? What did your dad say?”

Yamato, trembling, turned towards the brunette. “I’m so fucking pissed!” he seethed, punching the bag of food beside him. The nurse from earlier briefing glanced up from his desk and gave the pair a look of warning.  “Dude, chill out before they ask us to leave. You want to see your brother, right?”

“I’m not so sure anymore.” Yamato slumped back into his chair. His blue eyes trailed on his ragged fingernails, chewed up from the hours spent in the waiting room. Taichi returned his focus to his fries, eating each one methodically. The brunette wanted to give Yamato the space he needed without him realizing that Taichi was waiting for a response. For now, Taichi  decided that it was best munch quietly.

Like clockwork, after a few minutes of silence, Yamato was ready to open up. “I take that back; I do want to see him. But I’m still pissed. They didn’t just find out! They already knew! To make it worse, Takeru-kun already knew, and none of them thought to tell me. Why did they wait until Takeru-kun nearly died while in my care to mention it? Like, ‘oh, by the way, the reason your brother spontaneous collapsed on your kitchen floor while holding a knife is because he actually has a teeny-tiny life-threatening condition that we kind of forgot to tell you about! Hope all is well, xoxo!’. ” Yamato’s voice rose in a horrible imitation of what Taichi could only assume was his parents.

Fries forgotten, Taichi hummed in agreement. “I wish I knew what to say. To be honest, I don’t think there’s anything to say.” Noticing the nurse approaching them, he gave the blond a playful shove up. “Just be there when he wakes up.”

[digitalworldbound]

Prompt 103: “Sharing is caring. Now give me your fries.” for Taichi/Yamato. I prefer romantic, but given the nature of the prompt platonic is fine too. XD

Number 103: Sharing is caring. Now give me your fries.

Characters: Taichi/Yamato. This takes place sometime after 02, but maybe before Tri. It’s up to you. I like the idea that Taichi makes these Big Revelations about everything else, but with Yamato, it’s just a natural progression. I hope you like it!

Send me a prompt if you’d like!

There was never any Realization. Like most things, their relationship was gradual. Holding hands had become a habit; in times of anxiety, celebration, or anything in between, their fingers could be fund interlocked. This silent promise of support did not go unnoticed by their friends, but none were brave enough to comment.

It had been in the midst of one of their weekly movie nights when Taichi’s strong arm wound itself around Yamato’s shoulders. Hikari and Takeru had begged their brothers to rent the newest horror movie. Yamato put up a brave fight but wilted in the face of his little brother’s wide eyes and pouty lips.

After the fifth jump scare, the rock star’s hands gripped his pants with a vice grip, elbows trembling. Without much thought, a tanned arm darted behind the couch, curling his best friend into his side. Taichi pretended not to notice how his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest or how blonde hair was tickling his nose. From then on, if Yamato was battling stage fright or if Taichi found himself in a rare moment of insecurity, their arms would wrap around the other (always briefly, but it was enough to knock the air out of their lungs and calm their nerves).

Knife of Day’s latest concert had been wild. With a well-place wink and subtle roll of hips, Yamato had the audience in the palm of his hand. Even as the blonde gracefully dodged the lacy bras being thrown on stage, Taichi couldn’t deny the tug in his stomach at the pull of his friend’s jeans. Too soon, the songs lulled to a stop, and the pair were caressed by the chilly nighttime air.

“Dude,” the brunette began, voice airy with laughter, “That last song you guys played was sick. Did you steal the lyrics from Takeru-kun’s bad poetry again?”

A fist made brief contact with his shoulder half-heartedly, and Taichi’s smile widen at the flush on Yamato’s cheeks. Typically, the rock star was calm and collected, masking his emotions under a façade of indifference. A strange sort of pride welled in the athlete’s chest as he realized that the small smirk the blonde sported was because of him.

“If I didn’t use his poems, I would have to steal the other notes my brother writes to your sister. Trust me, if I sang any of those, I would be arrested for public indecency.”

Taichi hunched over, shoulders heaving as he pretended to throw up in the middle of street. The sounds of his faux-retching mingled with Yamato’s laughter echoed off the store fronts, startling the stray passer-by. “Come on,” the blonde began, pulling at his friend’s tone bicep, “If you throw up now, I won’t have any appetite for dinner. Remember, you still owe me for last time.”

Reaching up to grasp the rock star’s hand lightly, Taichi spared him a brief smile before breaking into a sudden sprint, a blonde head trailing behind him. Yamato, for his part, let his friend drag him along, enjoying the warmth of their intertwined fingers.

The warmth remained even after the pair dashed into the nearest McDonald’s, the boys giggly and breathless from their run. A scrutinizing stare from the cashier urged Yamato to hastily shove his previously occupied hand deep into his jacket, ignoring the flash of hurt that skirted across his companion’s face. Finding an unoccupied booth towards the back of the restaurant, the blonde waited patiently for Taichi to order and bring him the food.

His hands nervously fidgeted with the saltshaker, stilling only to grab the tray his friend thrust towards him. “Do you work here?” Taichi asked, eyes downcast. Yamato didn’t have time to respond before a head of brunette hair tickled the side of his neck. “Because I want some fries with that shake.” Taichi’s warm breath, hot on the nape of his neck, elicited a shiver from Yamato.

Cracking a smile, the brunette nudged Yamato aside, enjoying his discomfort. With their thighs pressed against each other below the table, the newest development in their relationship left even Taichi a little lightheaded.

“Uh, um, can’t you just sit over there or something?” The rockstar cringed at the cracking of his voice. In an effort to conceal his embarrassment, he managed to shovel a handful of fries into his mouth, swallowing most of them whole.

Taichi’s brown eyes lit up in laughter as he shook his head in disbelief. “You know that sharing is caring, Yama-kun. Now, give me your fries.” His fingers, calloused from years of sports, pulled a french fry from Yamato’s lips.

Before the blonde had time to protest, Taichi bit down on his prize. And if Yamato replayed the wink that followed after as he laid in bed that night, no body else had to know.

[digitalworldbound]

Could you do Taichi loses a bet and has to crossdress with the prompt “The skirt is supposed to be this short” and can it be yamachi

Number 1: “The skirt is supposed to be this short”

Characters: Taichi x Yamato. I apologize for taking so long! Writer’s block is the worst. Taichi having to wear his sister’s uniform is a sight to behold. I hope you enjoy!

Send me a prompt pretty please with, like, some jelly beans on top!!

Taichi’s tanned legs peeked out sheepishly from underneath the offending fabric, toned muscles appearing unnatural. Pleats did not compliment his figure in the slightest. 

“Well, your leg hair does clash with the color, but I guess that can’t be helped.” his vixen of a sister teased. The pair of siblings crowded in front of Hikari’s full-length mirror, shoving each other out of the way for the best view.

“Oh, stop! This is all your fault, you know?” he grumbled, arms crossed over his chest like a toddler that didn’t get his way. His sister only giggled, her camera dangling mockingly from her neck. A quiet click of the lens only angered him further.

“C’mon, they’re all waiting for you in the living room.”

His feet remained firmly planted in the carpet, knee-high socks suffocating his calves. “The whole bet thing was because of your dumb argument with Takeru-kun.”

His sister’s huff of annoyance danced through her fringe as her cheeks colored in frustration. “Well, you didn’t exactly have to ‘defend Takeru-kun’s honor’ in a discussion about the best topping on pancakes, Onii-chan. You also didn’t have take Yamato up on his bet, or, for that matter, bet against me. All things considered; you did this to yourself.”

She gestured towards her uniform skirt that had been shoved over Taichi’s hips. The fabric was taunt over the curve of his bottom, threatening to burst at the slightest attempt to sit down. Her blouse did not fare any better, the cuffs nearly cutting off her brother’s circulation. Hikari wrangled his wild hair into a pair of lop-sided pigtails, a sparkly, green bow adorning each one. Blush was smeared across his cheeks, complimenting the strawberry-flavored lip gloss that clung to his lips.

Coming to terms with his horrible, awful, disgusting appearance (and that fact this his oh-so-angelic sister had photographic blackmail), the athlete swallowed his pride, leaving his reflection behind.

He toed the bedroom door open.

Nine shit-eating grins were crammed into the Yagami’s living room. Yamato, sitting languidly on the couch, focused on channel surfing. Mimi gasped audibly from behind him, and the blonde’s attention was suddenly diverted to something other than Kitchen Nightmares.

The rock star’s cheeks colored at the sight of Taichi’s toned legs straining against the white cotton of the knee-high socks. Though the conditions of the bet had been his original idea, he didn’t expect Taichi to actually go through with it. 

“Uh,” Iori began, ever the brave soul, “Don’t you think you’re showing a little too much skin, Taichi-san?”

The brunette’s back was turned, coerced into twirling by Miyako and Mimi. “Hey, the skirt is supposed to be this short, thank you very much!”

Before Taichi had the chance to turn back around and catch his friend’s wandering eyes, Yamato wisely turned his attention back to the television screen.

[digitalworldbound]

Can you do a Yamachi with the prompt “I thought it was a one-night-stand…and now we’re married…”

Number 47: “I thought it was a one-night-stand, but now we’re married.”

Characters: Taichi/Yamato. I’m sorry this took so long; it just took me a while to figure out how to go about this prompt. This doesn’t really make sense, but my writing usually doesn’t. It takes me a minute to get into the Taiato headspace, but I hope you like it. I promise I’m getting to your other prompts!

Because of the nature of this prompt, there will be references to sex, but nothing explicit.

Send me a prompt or something!

They were drunk and in love, though neither was the wiser. The blaring music that seeped from the living room matched Taichi’s erratic heartbeat. He pulled the blonde closer, stumbling and stuttering, lips nervously colliding with his. Yamato tasted like cigarette smoke and liquor; all the nasty habits stardom blessed him with. They had been teasing each other all night (and all their lives, really), before Taichi had enough, tugging his friend towards an empty room. The party resumed, hoards of bodies grinding, mingling, tangling themselves with one another. Taking refuge in Yamato’s childhood bedroom was a breath of fresh air. Yamato’s clumsy fingers gripped at Taichi’s hips, pulling their bodies flush against each other.

Afterwards, they laid in a heap of tangled, sweaty limbs. Their breathing was labored, Yamato’s breath sticking on Taichi’s cheek. A shriek came from the other side of the door, and it was only then that the blond remembered he was supposed to be the host of this after party. Peeling himself off the huddle of tanned skin, he shrugged on his clothes, muttering a parting as his golden hair disappeared behind the bedroom door.

.

The familiar smell of Yamato’s cooking washed over Taichi as he nudged the door open to their shared apartment. “Hey, babe, I’m home!” he called, though the key in the lock already gave him away. After toeing off his shoes, he poked his head into the kitchen, giving his husband a quick peck on the cheek before the blond had the chance to usher him out. “Dinner will be ready in a few.” Yamato called over his shoulder, cheeks flushed.

It had taken them a while to get to this point, to this state of domestication. Taichi flicked on the television, attention elsewhere. He twirled his wedding ring, the simple band of silver spinning around and around. After their first time, clumsy and reckless and as long ago as it was, Yamato forwarded all of Taichi’s calls to voicemail. It only took a week for the brunette to tire of the persistent beeping and staticky silence.

By the time Taichi had thought to knock on the blond’s door, Yamato was already gone, touring cities bigger and grander than little Odaiba. As the months whirled by, he had little hope of rekindling…whatever it was that passed between them. Once he returned home, the rock star found himself falling into his best friend’s bed again and again, like laundry forever stuck on the spin cycle. Taichi didn’t have the willpower to deny his helpless blue eyes, waiting for the morning that he would wake up to a head of unruly blond hair beside him.

“Food’s done,” his husband called, the scent of grilled fish momentarily derailing Taichi’s train of thought. The pink apron tied around Yamato’s waist complimented his colored cheeks, Taichi’s heart squeezing itself at the sight. Food, plated and waiting, laid forgotten, Taichi’s arms too full of pale skin and blond hair too focus on the growling of his stomach. “I love you, you know?” he muttered, lips pressed to Yamato’s scalp.  

“Yeah, I know. I love you too, you dolt,” Yamato laughed, airy and breathless and beautiful. “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t.”

Taichi’s arms tightened around his lover’s waist, pulling the blond closer to himself. “Thank you, Yama,” his voice no more than a whisper. It had taken them a while to get to this point, to this state of domestication, but now that they were here, Taichi wasn’t going to let go.

[lillianne-life]

miau miau miau con colores :3