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peaches2217 · 9 months ago

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There’s a door on the right wall of Peach and Mario’s bedroom, just a few meters from the entryway. It’s an entirely unremarkable door, really; it matches the doors to both the private chambers and the restroom, white with gold trimmings and a polished brass doorknob. Such a door normally wouldn’t give Peach any pause whatsoever.

There is, however, one strange thing about this door in particular: it wasn’t there this morning.

She repeatedly looks from the door to her husband, who’s casually unlacing his boots by the dresser. The door to her husband, who’s rummaging through the third drawer down. The door back to her husband, who’s unhooking his overalls and kicking them onto the plush carpet floor. If he’s aware of this anomaly in an otherwise familiar setting, he’s not showing it.

“Mario.”

Mario hums lazily, not even looking at her as he pulls on his softest, most worn nightshirt, its red cotton faded and fraying. Peach is almost certain she’s dreaming right now. She was so certain she had been awake just minutes ago, laughing with friends and family over dinner, cheerfully accompanying her husband to bed after a long and eventful day of baby shopping with her best friend (though it's still a bit early to be buying any clothes, she’d tried saying a few times, statements that Daisy had immediately brushed off). But everything suddenly feels far too… off.

“What is that?” she finally chances, gesturing to the alien door. Mario finishes peeling off his socks and gloves before looking to where she’s gesturing, regarding it with all the mundanity he might regard any other door.

“It’s a door,” he answers easily, giving her a patented I have no clue what you’re getting at but I love you and cherish the words that come from your mouth anyway grin.

Peach sucks in an uneasy breath. Maybe this is that Pregnancy Brain thing she’s read about? Perhaps her memories are being rearranged, her senses tricked? Toadessa did warn her that she might become increasingly forgetful as the months progressed. It’s a more logical explanation than any other she can conjure up. If something were truly amiss, then surely Mario would notice too. Right?

“I… don’t remember it being there this morning,” she confesses, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She remembers, or at least thinks she remembers, that there was once a small storage unit just behind that door, filled with old broken halberds and spears and other assorted equipment that was too valuable to trash but too broken to repair. Yes, she remembers it now with greater confidence; she had been terrified of that dark, cluttered room, unable to sleep for fear of whatever monsters might be lurking within, and so Toadsworth had ordered it sealed when she was age seven or so.

Or maybe he hadn’t?

Mario chuckles, and though the corners of his eyes crease in good humor and his smile is filled with warmth, her face burns hotter still. “Fog’s already setting in, huh?” He taps a finger to his temple to hammer home what he’s implying, and though Peach knows his words hold no malice, the teasing still fans an unpleasant flame in her chest; she can’t help but cross arms in front of her and huff, half in hopes of exhaling that flame, half to make her displeasure known.

Suddenly Mario’s face reads a bit less amused and a bit more ashamed, and that just makes her feel even worse.

“No,” he croons, approaching her with his hands loosely extended, “tesoro mio, I’m so sorry. That was mean.” His tone doesn’t quite match his words. He’s clearly sorry to have provoked such a reaction, Peach doesn’t doubt his sincerity there, but there’s nevertheless a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, like there’s still something terribly amusing about her predicament.

So this is the thanks I get for carrying your child, she considers pouting, but something in Mario’s eyes sparkles so brightly that she feels her annoyance melting away, like an icicle brought into the sunlight. Damn him. She sighs and unfolds her arms to take his hands; for her silent pardon, he brings her knuckles to his lips and kisses them one by one, and suddenly she’s overcome with the urge to giggle like a lovestruck schoolgirl.

She resists, if only to spite him one last time, then she lets the grudge slide from her shoulders.

“You know,” Mario says once he’s done with his ministrations, his thumbs rubbing little circles into the backs of her hands, “I don’t have any right to poke fun. I don’t even remember what’s behind that door, either.”

Peach blinks. No, okay, now she knows she’s dreaming. This entire scenario is making less and less sense by the moment.

But before she can pinch herself awake, Mario’s guiding her towards the unfamiliar door, letting go of her hands and drifting behind her. Almost like he’s pushing her forward, she feels.

“Maybe we should check it out,” he suggests all too innocently, and if not for the way he lingers behind her, she might not find the suggestion too strange. But Mario always insists on taking the lead any time there’s unfamiliar terrain to be trekked. He would never let her be the first in the line of fire, no matter how mundane said terrain might appear on the surface, especially not in her present condition.

Unless, of course, he knows what she's stepping into.

Staring at the white and gold door, reason begins to resettle in Peach’s head. How had he known she was referring specifically to the door itself? If she were to gesture to the bathroom door and say "What is that?", he wouldn’t say “That’s a door,” he would say “That’s the bathroom.”

She’s not dreaming, nor is she going crazy. There is definitely something going on. Some sort of conspiracy that he’s in on and she’s not.

Unaccustomed to being left in the dark by her own husband, she grasps the doorknob, takes a breath, opens the door… and gasps.

The room behind the door is, in fact, the room she remembers, or is at least roughly the same size. But where she remembers dingy stone, there’s now carpet, luxuriously plush like the carpet in the bedroom. The sterile gray walls that once spooked her are now a soft and lovely blue, decorated with empty floating shelves and cheerful paintings of Biddybuds and Fire Flowers and scenes from familiar mushroom forests.

There's no trace of the broken weapons that once littered the room. There's instead a dresser flush to the wall, and a tall table of some sort, and a small chest in the opposite corner... and in the center of the room, on a round and ornate rug, are two pieces of furniture on smooth, curved rockers. One is a chair, adult human-sized; the other is much smaller, a horizontal hollow contained within smooth, round bars. A cradle.

“Oh yeah,” Mario chimes in somewhere behind her, “now I remember! I knew there was a reason I asked Daisy to keep you out of the castle today.”

His words slowly sink in as Peach approaches the rocking chair, reaching out to brush her fingers over the dark red wood. Cedar. The whole room is filled with the dry and resinous aroma of fresh cedar, a scent she typically associates with the workshop in the castle's western wing. The workshop where Mario tinkers with metal and wood whenever he tires of royal monotony and needs to keep his hands occupied.

The workshop that's been suspiciously locked every time she's approached it the past couple of months, even when she could hear saws cutting through raw materials and the tap-tap-tap of chisels in experienced hands within.

All pretense is gone. When she turns back to Mario, she finds him bristling with pride, that teasing smile wider than before.

"You did this?" She looks back to the chair, fastened with fluffy pink silk cushions, and the cradle, a matching cushion tied to its bars and emblazoned with the royal mushroom emblem on its headboard, an emblem that's been carved into the chest a few steps away as well. Something in her throat feels impossibly tight. "All of this?"

Mario finally leaves the doorway, his hand brushing against her back as he steps past her. "Well, not all of it, no. Just the furniture." He taps his right foot a few times against the statement rug beneath their feet. "Weeg handled the layout and the decorations and the swatches and all that fancy stuff. He's got a better eye for that sorta thing! Then he helped me get everything moved in and set up and the door re-installed while you and Daisy were out shopping. Of course Toadsworth's the one who told me about this little room in the first place, so he helped us get it unsealed, and Daisy—" He laughs now, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, she wasn’t even part of it originally! She just barged in one day — I had the door locked, Peachy, but she just waltzed right on in! I don’t know if she had a key or if she just forced it open with her bare hands — and she said the only way she’d keep quiet was if she got to be involved and take credit for her part in the whole ordeal, so that’s how that happened, and—”

His face grows darker as he prattles on, until at last he’s forced to take in a sharp gasp, his color returning to normal as oxygen once more fills his lungs. “But! The rest of it! Yeah, that was all me! Looky here—” His fingers curl around the bars of the cradle, giving it a few demonstrative rocks. “Remember that night you called me into the bathroom and I thought you were hurt and I panicked but actually you were just excited because you could finally see a little baby bump in the mirror? I couldn’t sleep at all that night because suddenly it all felt so real, so I spent the whole next day making this!

“And then I thought, ‘Well, we’ve got a place for them to sleep, but where are we gonna change their diapers? And where are we gonna put all the diapers and wipes and all that good stuff anyway?’ And that’s how I got started on that one!” He darts now to the table against the wall, gesticulating around it with the enthusiasm of a used kart salesman. “Perfect little platform, plenty of storage space, I’ve been thinking about making a mobile to put over it too in case she gets fussy, because the last thing we need is a dirty diaper and a fussy baby, right? And then—”

And this continues on for a good few minutes, Mario darting around the room to show off each hand-crafted piece of their new nursery. The dresser to store non-diapers, things like blankets and onesies and a few changes of clothes for both of them because babies are messy and ruined clothes are inevitable, and the chest to store everything else, like toys — he throws the lid open and shows Peach a few delicately carved wooden blocks and dolls, because what's a toy chest without any toys?

The information comes at Peach too quickly to absorb any of it, because an excitable Mario is a Mario at full steam that won’t stop for anything or anyone, so she blindly follows him, brushing her fingers against each piece’s cool cedar, examining the smooth-gliding drawers, dragging her thumb nail over the ridges in each toy she’s handed.

“And then the bookshelf! I’m… still working on that one.” He scratches his neck again with a nervous chuckle. “But I couldn’t wait any longer! Gimme a few days and it’ll go in that corner right over there. Weegee’s already got a whole library lined up for her, so we should have enough books to last us a while at least. And then I was thinking we could put some flowers and vases on the shelves, maybe? So they look sad and empty now, but pretty soon they’ll…”

Peach dutifully admires one such shelf on the wall, right next to a painting of a Fire Flower field in full bloom. Yes, a live Fire Flower on the adjacent shelf to compliment the painting. It’s certainly a good idea. She’s so caught up in the automatic thought process that, as soon as it runs its course, she turns to take on whatever bit of information Mario throws at her next, effortless and thoughtless.

Only then does she realize he’s gone silent.

“...You okay, Peachy?” Suddenly there’s no bravado in his voice. It’s softer, gentler, quieter. He closes their distance and takes her hands in his, warm and strong. “Sorry, I… I know this is a lot. Of course, if there’s any part of it you don’t like, you can tell me! You know I won’t take it personally. Well, not too personally.” He couples this statement with a playful wink.

Another automatic thought crosses Peach’s mind: how could she ever criticize any of this? He’s made an entire nursery with his own two hands for their child. She could never…

And for the first time since she opened that strange new door, it hits Peach. Not in words, but in images: Mario in his workshop, wiping sweat and sawdust from his forehead as he consults his blueprints, making certain his vision is coming to life exactly as he’s planned. Mario crammed into a booth at Tayce T.’s with his brother, thick brows knit in confusion as Luigi gives him a crash course on color theory and interior design. Mario in a football-style huddle with Peach’s steward and brother-in-law and best friend, giving everyone their roles sometime late last night or early this morning while she still lay blissfully unaware in bed.

Mario kneeling beside the completed cradle, rocking it a few times with a peaceful smile, staring down at the plush pink cushion and imagining a little blonde or brunette bundle of blankets sleeping soundly within.

The stagnant tightness in Peach’s throat erupts in the form of a sob, a rush of raw hormones heightening her every emotion until it almost hurts, and once she starts, it’s impossible to stop.

“Ah— Peachy—!” She hears Mario offer a few uncertain words of comfort beneath her shrill breathing, and he starts to pull her in some equally uncertain direction (uncertain to her, anyway, because her tears are falling too hard and too fast to make out anything other than abstract shapes). She lets him guide her steps, until suddenly he hoists her into his arms and lowers both of them. He’s settled in the rocking chair, she realizes from the way they both jolt as he adjusts her in his lap.

Her belly is larger now than it was the night she called him into the bathroom, though not so large that she can’t wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly, burying her face into the crown of his head. Even his hair smells of cedar, a fine dust that tickles her nose, and laughter bubbles in her chest alongside the tears.

“You’re amazing,” she manages to choke out. Her Mario, her thoughtful Mario, her hard-working and mind-bendingly devoted Mario. He cradles her, his left hand against her outer thigh, his opposite arm supporting her back, his right hand stroking the side of her belly ever so gently.

“So,” he says into her chest, and she can feel him smile against her, “does this, uh, does this make up for the teasing earlier?”

Peach sniffles and laughs again, drawing him in closer. Even if she hasn’t forgiven him (which she has, she’d like to believe she’s not that petty), she supposes drenching his hair with tears and mucus is payback enough. Maybe they can shower together tonight. Maybe she can wash his hair, and he’ll press kisses to her sternum the whole time, like he always does.

Though for now, she’s equally content to remain right where she’s at, secure in his arms in this cozy little nursery, their baby nestled safely between their bodies. It’ll still be a few more months before this space is put to proper use, after all. What’s the rush?

#well! this was corny even for me #but I enjoyed writing it so you won't be hearing any apologies from me. 😆#I love the thought that mario simply Cannot Shut Up when he’s excited so this is my propaganda as well #bonus points if you remember the post this was based off of! it was from december I think?#super mario bros #smb #mario #princess peach #mario x peach #mareach #peaches' fancy fics #tw pregnancy #daddy marioposting

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deansdelicate · 4 months ago

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I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER IV: WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

seth rollins x fem!writer+producer reader

word count: [8K]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, reader mentions a panic attack (but doesn't actually have one), two idiots pining w/o even knowing it kinda? overprotective sethie, overall fluff!

🎧 the soundtrack

summary: In the midst of chaos, you find yourself naturally drawn to Seth, who is nothing short of a steady anchor in the storm. With each unexpected turn, your bond deepens, and so does Seth’s protectiveness over you. While others might not have gone to the same lengths, Seth’s focus never strays—it’s always you, and nothing else.

Your heels clacked against the polished concrete floors, the twists and turns of the arena causing you to stumble over your feet a bit, though it didn’t stop you from the dash attempting to hideaway from another stage hand set out to find you.

You didn’t mind lending a helping hand and getting the house show prepped for the night after your dad had to bail and take a last-minute flight back home, but nothing could have prepared you for the absolute ambush of people expecting you to know everything.

You did all that you knew off the top of your head: pointing the crew to where they could set up crates and carts, helping set up the titatrons and cameras, and even going over the match card for the night. But you weren’t cut out for whole shebang of stage hands who needed details on each and every single task—most, if not all of them, ones you weren’t acquainted with considering your job wasn’t even running the show.

They were practically all around, and you were confident that they were going to find you one way or another. But you’d at least try your best to avoid them for as long as you could and you thought the bathroom would be just the place.

You pushed the door open, falling against it and swiftly shutting it behind you. You pressed against the wood, as if you were barricading yourself in, but really, you just needed a second to catch your breath and close your eyes—savouring the sweetness of peace and quiet.

“Breathe…” you whispered to yourself, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, trying to ease the dread out of your body.

“You ok?” a voice suddenly reverberated in the empty bathroom, or so you thought.

“Oh, my god!” You screeched, snapping your eyes open, only to be face to face with Seth himself.

You hadn’t seen him around with your hands full all night, and while you wanted to be mortified that this was the circumstances it was under, the embarrassment didn’t even cross your mind. There were too many thoughts whirling through your head, and he certainly wasn’t the stressors you were trying to avoid by any means.

“Am I in the men’s bathroom?” You sputtered, pushing off the door in order to step further into the bathroom, expecting to see more stars, but thankfully it was just him.

“No, it’s unisex.” He assured, watching you trudge over to the sinks turning on the faucet to run your hands under the frigid water.

Seth pushed his brows together, staring at you concerned in the mirror’s reflection, “You look flustered, are you good?”

He noticed you were still trying to even your breathing while you splashed some of the water droplets over your neck, visibly trembling from head to toe. He knew something was up.

“My dad had to fly back to Stamford, and he left me to handle everything and now I’m stuck here dealing with things that I really have no clue about.” Your voice shook as you explained yourself.

You shut off the water, pressing your wet, cold fingertips against your forehead still trying to ease your buzzing nerves.

He hadn’t seen you in such a state, and you appeared to be a shell of yourself before his eyes. Even on your first day of work, you seemed to have some semblance of control over your nervousness, but today was another level of high-strung stress that plagued him, wondering how long you had been feeling this way until ultimately hiding out.

Surely people didn’t just expect you to know the ins and outs already?

You didn’t even give out orders the way your father did, and frankly your job was strictly in the creative realm. He couldn’t imagine what everyone else had been bothering you for that they didn’t already know how to handle considering their time with the company.

He didn’t have any time to spit out questions—whether you needed something to drink or to see the trainers for rest.

“Has anyone seen Ms. Levesque?” A voice rang out loud enough through the hallways getting closer to the bathroom.

Your eyes widened, spinning around and giving Seth a begging look.

“You haven’t seen me and I’m not here!” You whispered hurriedly, finding shelter in the furthest stall and locking the door shut.

He didn’t need any convincing, immediately getting into character as the door swung open and there stood a stage hand wearing a frantic look and letting themselves in without knocking.

“Is Ms. Levesque in here?” They urged, but before they could come closer and inspect the stalls for themselves, Seth stepped in front of them, blocking the path.

“Haven’t seen her at all today. It’s just me in here.” He spoke, playing it cool as the stage hand peered past him for a split second.

“Have you checked gorilla? It is almost doors and she could be there.” Seth added, eyes trailing down to the watch on their wrist and just like that the stage hand muttered out a ‘thank you’ under their breath before they left.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at how little it took to get them scurrying. “You can come out now.”

You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, sliding the lock loose, causing the door to swing open.

“Thanks,” you sighed, exiting the stall, and meeting him near the sinks again.

“I think I’m seriously going to spiral if I hear one more person ask for me.” You confessed, running your hands through your hair stubbornly.

You could just feel the migraine starting to brew, and the last thing you needed was your head throbbing over circumstances out of your couldn’t control. Seth shook his head, his hand extending towards your arm and giving it an encouraging rub.

His touch brought forth a calming warmth over your shuddering body, desperately holding onto the feeling before his fingertips suddenly fell, leaving you aching again.

“I think you’re doing great, and I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind you hiding out in the locker room. Stage hands almost never go in there for house shows.”

You perked up at the sound of that, tilting your head at him.

“Is it nearby?” You crossed your fingers, hoping it wasn’t on the other side of the arena where you’d surely be found by then.

“Yeah, it’s right next to ours.” He nodded.

“Okay, can you show me?” You smiled tightly, wanting to get out as soon as possible before another came in and blew your cover.

Seth nodded, holding a single finger up as he walked towards the door.

“Yeah, just give me a sec…” He peeked his head out, looking left and right making sure the coast was clear before, looking back at you and gesturing you over, “Come on.”

Seth’s arm slipped across your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side as you hung your head low hoping to not be spotted in the crowded hallways. You didn’t even have the time to think twice about the implications if you two did get caught in such a way—plus even if you did it was nothing they had to worry about when it was just friends helping each other out.

“Here you are,” Seth stopped in front of a door decorated with a plaque that read, “Female Talent” on it.

His arm fell back to his sides, as you pushed your hair out of your face, keeping your voice low as you whispered, “Thank you so much.”

“Come find me if you need another hiding spot.” He joked light heartedly, making you giggle with a nod before you waved goodbye and let yourself in.

Like he promised, the girls didn’t mind you at all.

It was more so surprising to them seeing that it was you of all people who walked through the doors, over apologetic for barging in out of nowhere.

But they immediately welcomed you with open arms, ushering you over to sit and hang out with them since they rarely got the opportunity to catch up with you being so busy.

You had confessed what led you to hiding out in their locker-room and they all immediately shook their heads, knowing damn well that most if not all stage hands weren’t new to the schedule, so them coming to you was just out of inconvenience.

Nattie was especially trouble, shaking her head disappointingly, "That's not right," She muttered, shooting her husband TJ a text message about what was going on.

You twisted your fingers in your lap nervously, hating that this is what you had to come to in order to get away.

“Maybe I’m just being dramatic, right? I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to tell them, when I don’t even know what’s going on too.” You sighed heavily.

You weren’t trying to act like an entitled brat, but you knew deep down that you did everything in your power to help everyone. There was only so much you could do without feeling like you were risking making a mistake and the blame falling on someone else.

“TJ has it handled. No need to worry.” She assured you, shoving her phone back into her bag, as you shot her a thankful smile for going out of her way to have your back.

“You don't know what that means to me,” you gratefully, reached over, hugging her tightly before pulling away. “I guess I should go now that the search is off.” You half laughed, going to get up and give the girls their space back.

But a hand quickly wrapped around your wrist and stopped you from doing so. It was Alexa, who shook her head along with the other ladies who looked excited to have you and wanted to spend more time together.

“Stay! You can help us get ready for the show!” She said eagerly, and you smiled at the thought, taking her up on the offer and deciding to stick around longer than you anticipated.

The smell of hairspray, and the heaps of makeup pallets cluttering the countertops took you back to the feeling of being at home again. It reminded you of your little sisters’, the random nights they’d spend at your apartment begging for silly makeovers, and even back in your childhood bedroom where your mom taught you how to do your own hair and makeup.

“How are you so fast?” Alexa gaped in the mirror astonished, most of her hair already curled despite you just starting minutes ago.

You laughed, sectioning off another part and wrapping her blonde locks around the barrel of the iron. “It helps when you have three little sisters who always want their hair done.”

She smiled. “How old are they?”

“Sixteen, thirteen and, ten.” You listed off with a huff, feeling incredibly old.

“They’re totally lucky to have you as a big sis.”

Truth be told, you were definitely the luckier one, seeing as though all three of them were extremely close to you despite their teenage ages, which was supposed to be where they wanted absolutely nothing to do with their older ‘uncool’ sister. But it was quite the opposite with them wanting to spend as much time with you, but especially not that you weren’t home as often as before.

It was one thing that almost caused you to turn down the offer of working with the company. As a kid, you grew up with your parents constantly traveling, and while they had the luxury of taking you with them, as you got older, the idea didn’t seem enticing and you just craved being home where you belonged.

And while you weren’t your sister's parent, you filled that role of being like one, and the last thing you wanted was for them to feel as if you were abandoning them. Thankfully, your schedule was flexible enough for you to go home every other weekend, and with more shows being put on in Connecticut, it was convenient to see them as much as you could.

“Oh, I have got to show you what I gifted her!” You said excitedly, finishing up the final curl before retrieving your phone and scrolling through your album.

“I showed Seth last week, and he thought it was pretty cool too.” You grinned to yourself, finally finding the picture and passing your phone around.

“God, I feel so old. I had one of those when I was like seven,” Nattie grumbled, seeing the vintage polaroid your sister was holding, causing you all to laugh.

“Speaking of him,” Naomi nudged your side teasingly with her elbow, “How do you like working with him?”

You smiled, biting down your lip with a shrug of your shoulders.

“He’s great, I mean, we work well together and we have a lot of chemistry, so it’s been smooth sailing so far.”

You couldn’t help but notice the impish expressions covering their faces. Liv smirked, passing your phone back to you.

“Do you think he’s cute?” She asked bluntly, causing your eyes to widen and a blush to break over your cheeks.

“Leave the poor girl alone!” Naomi chided, rolling her eyes at the girls who giggled harmlessly.

“What? It’s just a question. This is a judgement free zone.” Liv argued confidently, looking around at the girls who nodded—seriously, they all were like sisters, and nothing was ever off limits.

You tucked your cheek into your shoulder shyly, shrugging again, “He’s got a nice face alright...I’ll leave it at that!”

They all broke out into a girlish giggle, causing you to cover your face not out of embarrassment but for the sole fact that you actually said it out loud for the first time. You always thought Seth was cute—watching him for as long as you did over the course of your preparation coming onto the main roster, you always thought he had an appeal on screen and it was no different in real life.

So yeah, Seth Rollins had a pretty good-looking face, and you were quite lucky to work with him.

As the night progressed, time moved quickly with you busy and the anxious thoughts finally washed away. The girls who had matched had already made their way back to the locker room, getting showered and changed while you and the other ladies continued to chat.

“I’m so not looking forward to the drive tonight.” Alexa groaned, coming out from the attached bathrooms, changed into fresh clothing as she chucked her gear into her suitcase and zipped it up.

“Tell me about it, and tonight I’m riding with the hubs and his brothers.” Naomi sighed half heartedly, and they all laughed, knowing that driving with a bunch of guys was always the worst for multiple reasons.

Suddenly your eyes widened, the time spent with the girls causing you to lose track of everything else—including how you were getting to the next city. All the stress you had thought you fought off was coming back like cruel punishment testing if you were really meant to do this or not.

Your dad had taken off in such a haste, and it was a no brainer that he took the company plane, the same one you were supposed to get on at the end of the night to head to the next city. But that was before plans changed. There were no drivers on hand to take you to the next city, and the plane was certainly on the tarmac by now.

“Wait, where are we going next?”

You bit down nervously on your lip, grabbing your phone and trying to load the itinerary in your emails, hoping Eddie had sent you travel arrangements.

“Chicago.” They answered before your phone could load up your mail.

When the app finally loaded and refreshed, there was nothing from Eddie nor your dad about your mode of transportation to the next city. You were practically stranded and fucked.

“Shit.” You whispered, closing your eyes tightly and shaking your head.

“What’s the matter?” Liv frowned, looking over your shoulder.

You took a deep breath, trying to give your best smile while your mind raced with solutions.

“Nothing, I just have to go call Eddie. I totally forgot to ask him about something.” You waved off not wanting to worry them.

You stepped out of the locker room, pacing anxiously as you pulled up your messages between you and Eddie, shooting him a few. Much to your dismay the normal blue bubbles sent through as green, furthering your worries.

Sure, you could have easily went back in the locker room to ask one of the girls if it was okay to tag along with them to the next city, but you already felt bad for camping out in their locker room for the whole night and the last thing you wanted was them to feel suffocated by you.

Funnily enough, in the face of worry, your footsteps didn’t seem to second guess your mind, heading straight to the person you were hoping didn’t already leave the arena. The more you searched the hallways, the more helpless you became. The sliver of hope that he was still around fading with each second that passed knowing you’d have to quickly think up another solution, when you’re one and only was nowhere to be found.

But there he was—his back turned to you as he talked to a member of the production team about something you were too relieved to care about in the moment. He had his luggage and a few bags near his side and you knew you had caught him just in time, and you weren’t going to let it slip from you.

You hurried your footsteps, and unbeknownst to you, the familiar sounds of your heels rang through his ears, prompting him to turn his head over his shoulder mid conversation, spotting you making a beeline towards him.

He could read your face and the worry that covered it, the same one that you wore in the confines of the bathroom where you didn’t have to conceal it with a faux smile so the nearby eyes wouldn’t know something was wrong.

“Woah, hey, are you still dodging people?” Seth twisted his body completely, turning your way and forgetting the previous conversation all together, giving his attention to you.

You stopped right in front of him, rubbing at your temples and pinching your eyes shut, hoping you weren’t about to ask for too much from him.

“No, I actually was looking for you.” Your chest deflated with a heavy sigh that was reminiscent of the anguish you displayed earlier.

He straightened up at the sound of that, nodding his head ready to take on whatever you needed from him.

“How can I help?”

“I thought I had a flight to the next city, but since the plane left with my dad I’m sorta stranded, and I really don’t want to go book a flight and I can’t get ahold of Eddie so I was wondering if I’d be okay if I drove with you and Roman to the next city?”

You were nearly out of breath at how fast you were talking, trying to cut to the chase and not waste any more of his time than you already were.

“Of course,” He replied without any reluctance or a second to think if you should ask someone else instead—his quick response clearly stunned you, but you were indebted more than anything else.

“But it’ll just be you and me. Roman’s riding with his cousins and Naomi this time around.” He added, pointing behind you to where Roman and his cousins Jey and Jimmy were already starting to exit the arena.

Naomi was right behind them, rolling her things along. She caught you in her peripheral, causing her to turn to you, shooting you a teasing smile when she realized you were alone with Seth. You waved weakly, returning a small smile keeping your composure before you turned to him again.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me.” You smiled through a deep breath and he began to roll his luggage and bags out of the path.

“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get my stuff really quick.” You gestured down the hall to where your office was.

“Take your time.” He assured you, not being able to help himself, chuckling and shaking his head, as you twirled around and did a quick jog in your heels not wanting to keep him waiting long.

You changed out of your skirt and top, tossing the pieces and your heels into your suitcase, and quickly grabbing a random baggy t-shirt and a pair of comfy sweatpants. You pulled mismatched socks over your feet, slipping them into your usual sneakers, hurriedly shutting the luggage and zipping it up.

You grabbed the packet of makeup wipes you kept in your purse, opening your phone camera to use as a mirror as you swiped the cloth over your face, letting your skin breathe. Tossing the wipes into the trash bin, you did a one over your office, making sure you had all your belongings, before turning off the lights and heading back to Seth.

Staying out of the path where stage hands and techs were clearing, he scrolled through his phone, waiting for you. And while he wasn’t one for divulging into social media comments, WWE’s recent post of your segment together had appeared on his feed, and many fans had lots to say.

‘Don’t know if this will end well for Seth, but how funny would it be if they actually got together in real life?”

One comment read, making him chuckle and shake his head—a thread of people agreeing or shunning the idea, like they had a say, anyway.

Another one wrote, ‘I can feel the tension through the screen,’ followed by an abundance of emojis that Seth wasn’t quite able to decode, but still made him laugh none the less.

At least he knew you both were doing something right if a single segment was already getting fans excited about what was to come. Whatever ‘tension’ fans saw meant that you two were doing exactly what you needed to do with your characters—it was all just part of the storyline.

“Sorry for the holdup.” Your soft voice shot down the empty halls, causing him to look up as you approached.

Mindlessly he slipped his phone into his pocket, trailing his eyes carefully over you—bare faced, hair pulled up, and the tiredness evident across your features and demeanor, yet you still managed to put on a smile thanking him endlessly for going out of his way.

“No holdup here,” He assured you, grabbing his things and rolling it beside him. “All good to go?” He wearily took note of all your baggage not wanting you forget anything important.

You nodded with a hum, “All packed up and ready.”

He led the way out to the parking garage where most of the superstars were already loading up their cars and preparing for the long trip ahead. Seth fidgeted with the car keys, sounding off the horn in order to find his rental that was almost identical to all the other SUVs around.

Recognizing the blinking tail lights and alarm sound, he subtly held his free arm out towards the small of your back, guiding you in its direction. You peered over at him as you walked, a little taken aback by the kind gesture—the way he wanted to keep you close felt almost comforting.

Only when you both made it to the car did his hand finally drop, allowing him to pop the trunk open while you stood there waiting to slide your things in. You stifled a small yawn behind your hands, rubbing your eyes lightly trying to shake off the fatigue until you got to the hotel. Seth slipped his backpack off, pushing it into the trunk, taking a quick glance at you and noticed your slowed movements.

Before you could even process what was happening, a soft click causing you to squint past your blurry vision, seeing Seth already lifting your suitcase and sliding it in.

“I got it. Go get comfy.” He offered thoughtfully, sliding the key fob into your palm, nodding at you to go ahead before continuing to load up the car.

You didn’t put a fight, giving him a nod as you hurried into the passenger side, placing your purse on the floor and leaning over the middle console in order to get the car running. Twisting the dials for the air conditioning and heat, you found a decent temperature that could keep you toasty yet cool at the same time.

The trunk closed shut behind you shortly after, and Seth had made his way around to the driver’s seat, getting in and placing his phone into one of the cup holders for easy access.

“Is it okay?” You hovered your hands in front of the vents, keeping your eyes on him.

His fingertips skimmed against yours, a pleased look on his face, glancing over at you.

“It’s fine for me. You aren’t too cold are you?” He rose his brow, feeling your hands slightly shaking next to his.

You weren’t particularly bundled up, and the night travel was always brisker, with temperatures dropping. There was only so much the heater could do to warm the car without it feeling like an absolute sauna, and a three-hour drive meant an absolute need to be as comfortable as you could be.

A slight shiver ran up and down your arms, chin trembling either out of pure exhaustion or frigidity, yet you still shook your head, lowering your hands into your lap, clasping them together for warmth trying to convince him.

You began to assure him, but it didn’t last long, “No I’m—”

He dropped his hands, fingers going to the zipper of his jacket, pulling the closure down and shrugging the garment off his arms, holding it out to you.

“I can see you shivering, you know.” He chuckled, nudging the jacket to you again when you didn’t take it the first time.

You hesitated for a second, before ultimately sighing out a laugh and taking it, apologizing as you slipped it on.

“I’m a guest in your car. I didn’t want to overstep.”

Seth let out a sarcastic grunt, buckling in as he spoke.

“Trust me, I’ve driven with guys who snore through ten hour drives and some who insist on blasting music all the way through. You’re by far the best road partner I’ll have to date.”

He said it like a promise, sweet and sincere like the way his voice always carried itself with you. It was hard as is, transitioning into a new job, but one that also came with an intense level of travel added another layer to the reason why he felt it was vital you had someone you could go to no matter what—and if that was him, then he was more than happy to be that person for you.

You crossed your fingers he couldn’t see you blushing through the darkness of the car. The headlights reflecting brightly off the walls and bouncing off the windshield didn’t help your case, but you couldn’t fight it. Perhaps you were smitten because of the conversation you had with the girls just a short while ago, but even then you knew it was partly just you in your head.

You had banked out on becoming friends with Seth, and you couldn’t possibly imagine what you’d do without him. And what Eddie had teasingly said about you and him acting as more than friends suddenly played like a loop in your head. But you had to remind yourself that it was just platonic, and that was all it could ever amount to.

“Thanks again for letting me tag along. I’d be lost without you.” You murmured, absentmindedly setting your hand over his wrist, grazing his skin softly.

Seth kept his cool, ignoring the hot rush of blood in his veins beneath your touch—it was nothing else besides platonic. Your kindness had always been extended to everyone. It just so happened that you two had spent a lot of time together, but still didn’t mean anything else.

He had spent all this time criticizing his friends because of their relentless teasing, yet he knew that if they were there to see what was unfolding before him, it would only egg all of them on further to believing you and him could actually be a thing.

The naked eyes you both held onto each other didn’t even see through a glimpse of what you felt inside. You didn’t say anything about his pulse beating against your fingertips and Seth certainly didn’t bring up your pink cheeks in the dead of the night—all of it was left unspoken, but it didn’t mean that nothing was said.

You and Seth talked and talked under the moonlit sky, mostly about Chicago. He had been multiple times, back in his indie days where he would drive from state to state and town to town to wrestle and get his name out there. All of those late night drives in shitty broken-down cars finally paid off a few years back after your father offered him a contract in developmental and closed off the indie days chapter and brought him straight to Tampa where bigger plans laid ahead.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t been to many places, far from home, and Chicago was one of them. It was safe to say that while the travel schedule was something so foreign to you it gave you the opportunity to see the world in a medium where you still got to work within your element.

“Do you ever miss the indies?” You marveled aloud, peering at him and he pursed his lips, puffing out an absurd breath of air.

“Hell no,” He sneered, making you burst into laughter, shaking your head at him while he argued his case, “I don’t miss getting paid forty bucks and a hot dog for getting my ass kicked in a high school gym.”

It felt like it was just yesterday when promoters would slap a few bills in the palm of his hand, and he was even lucky if they provided food after the show. Most times it was just him and his other indie buddies driving to the nearest 7/11 to spend their hard earned cash on gas station food and fill up their tank to head back home only for a repeat all over again.

“Okay, I get that,” You nodded understandingly, shifting your torso towards him as you tucked your legs under yourself. “But I mean, do you miss the innocence? Like, the small crowds that believed in you, even when you were just doing it for the hope of it all?”

You stared at him, elbow rested on the console, genuinely curious, and Seth found it endearing considering his past wasn’t all that glamorous to begin with. But your desire to dive into his world, attempting to dissect it in your own way made him realize that he hadn’t pondered his roots in what felt like forever.

“Well, when you put it that way,” He strung together a hum, glancing at you for a quick second just enough for you to catch his smile before turning his attention back to the road, “Yeah. I never imagined I’d be here. It still feels a little surreal at times.”

Perhaps there was a double meaning. Here as in working for the company he had always been dreaming about since he was kid. And here beside you—breathing your air, hearing your voice, getting a rare to chance to know you.

He didn’t know why he thought beyond what you had asked, but it felt right, just as he was beside you. The what was supposed to be solo drive to the next city, way more pleasant with your presence.

“You came a long way and you deserve it.” You grinned, eyes twinkling towards him, catching a glimpse of his orbs that wished could’ve stayed set on you through the night.

The first hour of the car ride was a breeze, a nice smooth journey as you and Seth talked about any and everything under the dusk to get you through the next town. You could’ve listened to his voice for hours, talking up a storm and making you crack a smile even in your most exhaustive hours—but then again, you were spent, and soon your quick replies and giggles became nothing but tired hums and weak nods of your head.

You liked to think that the same way his voice could keep you up in the early morning hours of a busy city, also had the effect of helping you drift off into sleep on a long road to another bustling town.

Seth hadn’t taken your quietness as to you being asleep. To be fair, he had just thought you were staring out the window, taking in the drive with some comfortable silence he didn’t mind at all. It wasn’t until he pulled up to the drive through of a fast-food restaurant that he realized that you had been fast asleep for nearly a half hour.

“Did you want something?” He asked, finishing up his order and reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet before looking over at you.

With no response, he hovered over the console a tad, finally seeing your chest falling in tune with the mellow breaths you took, and your eyes fluttered shut as you dreamed away. He smiled tightly at the sight just before turning back to the intercom and speaking at a lower volume in hopes not to wake you.

Hour two consisted of Seth quietly munching on his fries and burgers, softening the crinkle of the paper under a napkin, doing his best to keep the car nice and quiet for you.

You had shifted around a few times by hour three, maneuvering your body into a cramped fetus position and facing towards him. You untucked your arms from the inside of the jacket, pulling the excess fabric under your chin and settling into a deep sleep once more.

How you were able to sleep like a baby in the passenger seat wasn’t something he could fathom, considering how uncomfortable the front seat was for the guys who were always too tall to burrow into a cacoon like you were. But he guessed you had overworked yourself into a state of complete and utter exhaustion.

You always gave a hundred percent of yourself every night, but with your dad gone and you left to the pickup the pieces, you had gone out of your way to try to help everyone—spreading yourself out too thin before the veil broke and you had to hide away for the sake of your wellbeing.

The drive was nearly over, and he could only steal some quick glances towards you before you both had finally made it to the hotel just a little before midnight. The parking lot was full of similar rental cars, a clear indicator that everyone had beaten them there. Finding the nearest available parking spot, he quickly drove in, switching gears and letting up on the brake pedal.

“Wakey, wakey,” Seth called out gently, unbuckling his seat belt and giving your arm a soft tap, attempting to stir you from your slumber.

Yet you didn’t budge, not even a little, your breathing slow and steady as the hum of the air conditioning faded when Seth pulled the key from the ignition. He sighed softly, not wanting to disturb you but knowing you needed proper rest.

“Sweetheart, we made it to the hotel,” He spoke a little louder this time, hoping it’d get you to wake, “We gotta get you checked in so you can get some in bed, yeah?”

He reached over to give your shoulder a soft rub, trying to ease you awake gradually.

“Hmm,” you groaned, eyebrows furrowing together as you fidgeted around and turned away from him, body curling towards the passenger door.

Waking you up didn’t seem like a possibility, your body too exasperated to even make out his voice calling out to you, and it was probably in his best interest if he just made sure you got to your room to rest. Letting his hand slip away, he came around to your side, gently opening the door, and reaching in with one arm to support you while the other unclasped your seatbelt.

“Come on, I’m gonna help you out.” He murmured, shifting you into an upright position.

Carefully, Seth unzipped the jacket you’d borrowed from him earlier, slipping your arms back into the sleeves so he could lift you more easily.

Cradling you in his arms, he carried you out of the car, making sure you stayed upright against his side, as he shut the door and locked up the car, guiding your dead weight towards the hotel entrance.

The woman at the reception desk looked up with a warm smile as Seth approached, your head resting on his shoulder, still deep in sleep.

“Under what name?” The woman asked, fingers hovering over the keyboard, ready to get you both into your room.

Seth shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on you as he spoke, “Actually, we have two separate rooms. Hers should be under Levesque.” He told her, waiting for a room key to your suite before asking for his.

The woman’s smile faltered with a frown, shaking her head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can only give the room information to the individual whose last name the room is under.” She said, gawking at your unconscious state.

Seth sighed, glancing down at you resting so peacefully in his arms. He didn’t have the heart to wake you up, just for a little room key.

“Look, I don’t want to wake her. She’s had a long day and she really just needs some rest.”

“I understand that, sir, but it’s policy.” The woman explained, “I’m afraid I can’t make any exceptions.”

She was just doing her job, and he understood that the predicament looked more than sketchy, but he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you, and he certainly wasn’t going to let you go to bed on the lobby couch.

“Okay, how about Rollins? My room.” He proposed, slipping his hand into his pocket, retrieving his identification.

She scanned over his ID, nodding and sliding it back towards him, then doing some typing on her keyboard getting the room information from the computer screen.

“Here you are, room 1306,” she slid the key across the countertop, and Seth quickly slipped it into his pocket before wrapping both arms around you securely again.

“It has a single king bed, but there’s also a pull out.” She added thoughtfully, but Seth didn’t miss the confusion on her face, not understanding why you both would have separate rooms to begin with.

“Thank you.” He nodded, keeping it short not feeling the need to explain himself, before carrying you through the lobby toward the elevators.

The nearest elevator began to close, and he quickly called out, hoping for the people inside to stop it.

Unbeknownst to him, the lift contained his buddies—the same ones who recognized his voice in an instant and stopped the doors from shutting at the list second. Jey snuck his hand out, prompting the doors to open once again, as there Seth stood with the boss’s daughter in his arms.

“Oh shit! Don’t tell me you’re going all vintage Triple H right now,” He shrieked, voice echoing in the small space and ringing out the corridor, causing everyone’s eyes to widen.

Seth ignored the comment, shifting your weight slightly to keep you snug in his hold as he stepped into the elevator. He didn’t have the usual energy to snap back a remark, too tired and frankly too concerned about getting you into bed to actually care.

Jimmy gave his brother a light smack on the back of the neck, silently telling him to cut it out, while both he and Naomi rolled their luggage aside to make room for the two bodies joining them.

“Thanks,” Seth mumbled, settling in as the doors closed behind him.

Roman leaned against the wall, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “You can’t be serious, can you?” his tone half serious, half amused not believing this was actually unfolding before his very eyes.

He knew that the closer Seth became to you, the risker things would become—not just the notion of the superstars making harmless jokes anymore, but substantial people backstage that would take notice and immediately tell your father of any funny business. And it seemed Seth wasn’t even thinking about that at all.

“What?” Seth shrugged his shoulders as much as he could without waking you, not knowing what the big deal was. “She fell asleep in the car and I tried to wake her up but it’s pointless.” He reasoned plainly.

Roman sighed, still a little skeptical, “What floor?” He asked, reaching over to push the button on the panel.

“Thirteen.” Seth replied, watching the button illuminate, the lift humming, as it took you all upwards.

Seth glanced down at you, gently readjusting your arms around his waist so you could stay comfortable. And like it was instinct, he felt your arms tighten around him, nuzzling your face deeper into the juncture of his neck.

His cheeks threatened to turn red, and a smile tugged violently at the corner of his lips, a kind of smitten he had to hold back, wishing he took a different elevator to conceal their eyes that bored into the two of you. He cleared his throat, cutting into the silence, trying to shift the focus away from the jokes that wanted to air out.

“Didn’t you guys leave the arena before us? You’re just getting in?”

Naomi rolled her eyes, shooting her husband a glare. “This man missed the exit and the stupid GPS rerouted us wrong.”

“Hey don’t blame me!” Jimmy protested, smacking his lips with a tsk, “there’s worse that could’ve happened like my ass on the verge of getting fired because I decided to kidnap the bosses daughter.”

Seth grumbled, closing his eyes with the shake of his head, hoping the damn elavator would hurry it up.

“Shut up.” Naomi smacked his arm lightly, her eyes softening when she looked at you. “She needs the rest. She was telling us about the wild goose chase they had her on tonight. Poor thing.”

“Exactly, thank you.” Seth looked over at the woman gratefully, nodding his head, as he spoke dryly towards the others, “It’s what friends would do for each other.”

Roman shook his head, stifling a laugh, “Yeah okay sure…friends.”

Finally, the elevator approached the thirteenth floor, slowing as Seth was ready to escape the confines, but of course not without one final jab from Jey.

“Nighty night…don’t let the ghost of papa H haunt you tonight.”

Everyone choked on their laughter, not wanting to possibly wake you and face the wrath of Seth himself. Roman stuck one hand out the door as it opened, pausing the automatic closure.

“See you in the morning, man.” He added with a knowing smirk, giving his brother a pat on the back, as Seth exited and headed down the hall to find his room.

Once he found it, he fished the key out of his pocket, sliding it into the slot. The lock mechanism whirled quietly in the stillness before the green light flickered on, unlocking the door. It wasn’t a suite, but the room had ample space for you both, though Seth knew he still had to grab the belongings from the car.

He stepped inside, gently kicking the door closed behind him, and without thinking his hand reached for the lock, turning it into place.

Guiding you over to the bed, he did his best to maneuver you as quick as he could, yet at the same time keeping his touch delicate not wanting to wake you so abruptly.

“Easy, easy,” he whispered, setting you down upright for a moment letting your forehead rest against his shoulder as he pulled back the sheets, then carefully rested you down back first.

He took a moment to adjust the pillow under your head, making sure you were comfortable, before kneeling down on the ground to work your shoelaces loose. Pulling your socked feet away from your sneakers, he set them aside before tucking your legs under the duvet.

“There we go,” He chuckled under his breath, impressed with himself that you hadn’t woken up through all the moving and noise.

He tucked you in carefully, making sure you were snug enough to where the blankets stopped at your chest. But you had done the same thing in the car—your fingers timidly creeping up, brushing against his as you pulled it up higher under your chin.

Seth couldn’t help but smile, standing there for a moment as he watched you relax even deeper into the bed. Your bones sensing the cushiony feeling underneath you and all the weight you had been carrying suddenly melting away with your breathing slowed and steady.

Content that you were safe and sound, he quietly slipped out of the room, triple checking to make sure the door was locked again before heading back down to retrieve the bags from the car. It was nearing almost one in the morning and his own fatigue crept into his bones and the socket of his eyes that wanted to droop asleep, yet all that he could feel was an odd sense of protectiveness over you.

He didn’t like the idea of being away from you, let alone being with anyone else in the state that you were in tonight.

What would’ve happened if he left the arena before you could find him?

What if you rode with someone else and they hadn’t made sure you were okay?

All the worries that you were the common denominator in eating away at the walls he was supposed to have up in order to protect himself. From what? He had no idea, but he knew well and sure that he couldn’t have let anything happen to you.

You had shifted around in the short time he was gone, this time laying on your side cuddled up into the blankets that practically swallowed you whole. The carpeted floors help cushion the sounds of the wheels rolling against them, setting his belongings in the corner near the couch on the opposite end of the room before setting your stuff near the closet.

There was weak light illuminating the darkness of your bag, your cellphone coming in with a few notifications, but what caught Seth’s eye was the red indicator on the battery icon. Thankfully, your charger was tangled up in your bag, and he quickly undid the loops before walking to your bedside and plugging it in for you to have come morning.

With everything settled, Seth walked over to the pullout couch, grabbing the clothed tab and tugging on it to reveal the full-sized bed. Certainly it wasn’t the comfiest thing for his stature or his back, but he had slept on worse, and he was lucky that he didn’t have to share it with anyone in a janky motel.

Shutting off the lights, and laying down, he still couldn’t get his mind off you as you laid just a few feet away from him. He hadn’t expected this was the way his night would end, but then again, he wouldn’t want it any other way—maybe a proper bed for the sake of his body, but he’d deal with the cards he had been dealt.

As you dreamed away, he wondered if you knew he’d make sure nothing happened to you. That you subconsciously trusted him enough, that even in your weakest, most vulnerable state, you knew he was there. And as his eyes began to blink slower by the second, completely sinking into sleep, in the back of his mind he hoped you knew that he could be that person.

And in the silence of the shared room, you and Seth dreamt away—but not far enough to escape each other.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i hope you guys like chapter four of icsy!!! originally this chapter was supposed to be way longer, but i decided to split it--don't worry, chapter five is coming super soon after this one!!! let me know what you think about sethie and the princess ;D

taglist: @ellesmythe @wonderharryy @southerngirl41 @eringobragh420

#seth rollins x reader #seth rollins #seth rollins smut #seth rollins fanfiction #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins fic #seth freakin rollins #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe oneshot #wwe x reader #dean ambrose x reader #dean ambrose #roman reigns #wwe x taylor swift #seth rollins x taylor swift

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strixcattus · 3 months ago

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Every Ending is a Bad Ending: A Slay the Princess Analysis

I've had this in my drafts since... February. Since the Pristine Cut is in less than a week, and will add an entirely new ending to the lineup, I figured it would be best to get this finished, polished (or at least casually looked over), and posted beforehand.

Slay the Princess is a game that makes zero judgement about which ending you choose to pursue. Sure, some characters may make their own standpoints clear, but aside from the "Good Ending" (and we all know what that ending really means and is) there's never an official indicator if you've reached the "proper" ending, because there is no proper ending. There are six different endings (Stranger variants and And Everyone Hates You notwithstanding—they can be folded into the others), each of which has its own nuanced set of implications and each of which is given an equal amount of care from the developers.

And each of which, when you take the time to think about it from every angle, kind of sucks. A lot.

None of this is a judgement on the game itself. I like it, actually! Every ending forces you to make some form of sacrifice in the name of another priority, which keeps any one of them from being cast in a light as "the best ending." (While there are definitely endings that could be cast as "the worst ending," they're still narratively interesting and there's no shame put on achieving them.)

I. The Good Ending

This is the ending the Narrator wants you to pursue, though it's hardly an ending compared to the others. You've really only got one chance to pursue it—once you've met the Shifting Mound, it's too late to go back, so the Good Ending inevitably means a truncated run.

It also means a couple other things, which are worse. First and most obviously, it means the same thing as A New and Unending Dawn—you've killed the concept of death and transformation, and with that ended both of those things, forever, at the Narrator's behest. His world will persist in stasis ad infinitum, and whatever fragment of the Shifting Mound is within you, whatever change and meaning it preserves, the world will be changed drastically, and it's entirely possible that not all the people within it will think that's for the better. But this is a topic for A New and Unending Dawn.

Besides, the player—which is to say, the Long Quiet, not that he knows he is the Long Quiet, the one on the opposite side of the screen from you, the one experiencing all of this—doesn't know any of that. He doesn't know anything. He's just following orders, and now he's received his reward.

His reward is, as the Narrator tells him, eternal, boring bliss. And so it is—if he perceives what the Narrator says as true, then it will be. He'll be happy, and nothing else, for all eternity.

Doesn't bode particularly well for what's happening in places that aren't the cabin, but I said that was going to wait.

The player's awareness, in effect, ends. Sure, he's going to remain alive for eternity, but nothing is going to happen with that life. He's given up his agency, the possibility for experience, and everything else that might make up the definition of life on a more philosophical level.

Which brings us to a point that's going to crop up in different ways throughout this post. Slay the Princess is a game with more than three characters.

The player is not alone in the cabin, but given enough time, someone else might be.

The Voice of the Hero, your only companion who seems to be unilaterally on your side, is stuck in this cabin with you, and he isn't as happy about it as the Narrator tells you you are. He doesn't believe the Narrator's words, even if you choose to, and so he isn't affected by them as you are. He isn't happy, eternally. He doesn't lose his self-awareness to the now-meaningless flow of time, even though you do. If you choose to set down onto the Good Ending, you can hear him pleading for you to get up and take back your choice, but you can't actually act on his words past the first decision point. You've given up your agency, your self, your possibility to change entirely.

Hero is still there. He's still aware, and he will be for eternity. He'll get to experience time in a meaningful way, his only company an Echo (who may or may not fade, and even if he doesn't he likely won't be very good companionship in the face of a dull eternity) and someone who has completely given up their personhood.

This ending may or may not be apocalyptic for the world, and it may or may not be horrifying for the Long Quiet, but there's no arguing that it isn't torture for the Hero.

II. There Are No Endings

This was the first ending I got, and I will say I felt forced into it. Not by the game itself, necessarily—just knowing what the Princess was, and what killing her would mean, I felt as though the only proper option was to allow her to continue on. Death is an essential part of the workings of things, and transformation as a whole is even more crucial—though, even if all the Shifting Mound represented was death, my actions wouldn't have been any different. The game made no judgement—the only things forcing my hand were my own beliefs.

The exact implications of killing the Shifting Mound and ridding the world of death, I'll save for the ending where that actually happens. The general idea is, it's not desirable. The Narrator's world is going to end, and the healthiest way for the cosmos to go on is to allow the Princess to be what she is and create a new world in the shadow of the old.

For the Narrator's world, this is obviously not ideal. It ends. But there's going to be a new world created when it does, and that world will flourish as it was meant to, and when it dies a new world will be born, on into eternity. The progression of the cosmos is the same as it was before—which is probably the best way for it to be, compared with your other options.

For the Long Quiet, though... this isn't the worst experience he could be having. He could be effectively nonexistent. He could be actually nonexistent. Compared to that, a thousand dawns and a thousand sunsets, each containing a thousand more, with your other half by your side isn't all that bad.

But you're alone. Yes, you have the Shifting Mound by your side, but she's the only companionship you'll ever get for the rest of eternity. I'd like to call some attention to a few of her lines throughout the game at this point, just to highlight why I consider this ending to be just as bad as the next one on the list (though, to be sure, they're not necessarily bad in the same ways or for the same people).

"It doesn't matter if there are. People are too small for us. You and I are the only things that interest me."

"There is a warmth and sadness in me at the thought of people. Fresh tears on a winter's day. They are not like us. They do not last."

These are a couple lines from the fourth time you enter the Long Quiet. Depending on how well you've treated the Princesses you encounter, the Shifting Mound's dialogue changes, but there's always an underlying implication that you and her are more important than people.

If you deny the Princesses their freedom more often than you grant it, you get the first variation (of which there are two versions—the other has her calling people "frail and impermanent"), where you have the chance to ask her if she thinks there will be people in the worlds beyond the Long Quiet. She immediately dismisses your question, saying that people do not interest her.

If you grant the Princesses their freedom more often than you deny it, you get the second variation. Here, the Shifting Mound is the one to ask you what you think you will find, and one of your options is to say that you think there's supposed to be people. Her line above is her response to that. She's more sympathetic towards people, but still describes them as unlike you and her. Even at her kindest, she still believes the two of you to be greater than people—and to be fair, you are—but she never seems to care about people in quite the same way the player does.

"A person. A set of eyes witnessing from one perspective. I think that you are more like me than you are like a person."

She says this the first time you meet, but until you're awoken to your true nature, from your perspective you are more like a person than you are like her. You fear death and experience each iteration of the Construct from your own perspective and no other. And even when you reach the mirror, and remember that you are more than a person, you still remember being one. It's not clear she does the same.

Remember, at this point you're certain that you've witnessed, four times now, the only people you've ever been able to fully trust die. You don't have the option to avoid it. At my first encounter with this line (for context and clarity, it was one of the "It doesn't matter if there are" lines), I was thinking of the Voices when I mentioned people—because that's what they are, by her definition. Singular perspectives capable of death. And she shuts them down, insisting that they do not matter.

To be clear, it's not my intention to and I would never bash the Shifting Mound. Maybe at one time I would, and maybe some of my initial feelings are still preserved in my writing here—I wouldn't be able to tell. But I've grown past resentment on this point—I'm simply outlining the way in which the Shifting Mound seems to view people other than her and the Long Quiet.

What, exactly, does this all mean from an objective perspective? I've only been talking about subjective views on the Shifting Mound so far. Maybe your perspective is different from mine. What's really going on?

Let's start with the world side—moreso recap, but it's been a bit of digression and I think we could use one. As I said earlier, this is probably the best outcome for the world. Yes, it ends. It had to end. There is no good outcome for the Narrator's world—it's either end and be reborn, or persist in a manner I'll save for the next ending.

This might be the best-case scenario. Existence persists in a healthy manner. The cycle of death and rebirth continues. Everything is okay, generally. Life retains meaning. Countless worlds are born and live full lives.

But you? You are alone with someone who does not grasp the value that you place in the people within those worlds. She values that which spans the cosmos—you, and her, and the worlds you create. She does not pay attention to what goes on within them, but you do, because you've lived it.

Or maybe you're willing to embrace godhood and leave behind people. I'm not, but I'm only one person and my opinions are not paramount. The Long Quiet does seem to care about people enough that he always has the option to bring them up, and he's experienced living as one, but that's not enough to base a full argument on. Maybe the god of stasis can change his mind. So let's talk about something that definitely does happen.

Those Voices? Your friends? The collective of people who have been by your side this whole time? Yeah, they're gone. They died at the mirror. You know this.

She is a creature of perception, and you are perception itself. She becomes that which people perceive her to be—which is why you cannot alter her once you awaken. You're not a person anymore.

But you are still perception. The world is that which you perceive it to be. Her vessels are within her, empty—even during your final confrontation, their words (notably, her referring to the Apotheosis in third person) show that they are not speaking, but she is speaking through them. Whether or not they were always a part of her, she sees them as nothing more.

Were your Voices nothing more than parts of you? It doesn't matter anymore. You perceive them as gone, dead at the mirror, and so they are. You are alone, forever, with her.

Maybe you're happy like that. Maybe you looked at the choice between her and the Voices, and decided you'd rather have her. But the Voices are dead either way. They don't even get to persist in a space away from you.

And if you aren't happy, well. You'll have an eternity to try to change that.

III. A New and Unending Dawn

Here's the big one—the full 180 from There Are No Endings. The Narrator's second chance, and this one is, let's face it, probably better for the Long Quiet from an objective standpoint. He's not wasting away alone in a room, and none of the Voices are left stranded as they watch the only other thing they know fade into nothing.

In fact, this is one of only two endings where you don't have to leave behind the voices—either in them persisting while you fade, or in them dying while you persist into eternity, or in you leaving them behind forever. This time, you get to keep them by your side as you rule your eternal kingdom. Hopefully they're not too mad at you.

This is probably one of the better outcomes for the Voices and the Long Quiet, though it's definitely not ideal. You've still been forced to kill your other half, and even though you may have deemed it necessary, it's not a great experience.

And you have no idea what that means for the world.

Sure, you know what you just killed. The concept of death. The Capacity to Change. Transformation, or most of it. Without her, the world will persist for an eternity, and so too will the people within it. There will never be an end of the world. There will never be a new dawn beyond your own.

Or will there be an end of the world? There certainly will be a change in how it functions. Will the small piece of Transformation within you be enough to preserve change and meaning in what is left behind? Most of the Voices seem to have positive reactions to the new iteration of the world, though none of you have actually seen it yet. You don't actually know how things are going to work, only that you have the power to perceive them this time. A step up from the "Good Ending."

Let's go back to the Good Ending for a second. I did say we were going to.

Remember how it goes? You're trapped for eternity, happy, forever. And, to be sure, this partly stems from your own perception. If you believe the Narrator when he says you're happy, you'll be happy. The Voice of the Hero doesn't, and so he isn't, and he has to watch you fade away.

But the fact that this can happen, that it is in fact the Narrator's ideal ending, does not bode well. Is this a fate that awaits some of the people in your new world? Will some of them end up fading away, unable to die or to find meaning in a world that cannot change aside from "happiness forever?" You can't say this for sure, but you also can't deny it for sure.

Eternity is not friendly, or at least it has the potential to hurt quite a bit, even if that isn't guaranteed. The one solace is that, at least, the people you've doomed to it will not be alone. They may miss those who died too soon, and they'll have eternity to continue doing so, but they will not be alone.

Whatever you've done, everyone will get to suffer it together. Forever.

IV. Just as You Once Were Nothing

Let's take a break from the standard endings and consider the implications of what happens when you abandon the Shifting Mound entirely. You refuse to perceive her, and since she is shaped by perception, in your refusal you deny her an existence. Eventually, you run out of time to make any sort of amends, and the two of you persist by sheer force of (your) will until you give up and you both fade to oblivion.

This is probably by far the most uncertain of the endings—every ending carries with it the question of what will happen to the world, but this one adds the question of what will happen to you. What exactly happens after you fade? Do you return to your prior existence as an unconscious cycle? Is this effectively the same as slaying the Princess? Whichever it is, the one certainty is that you won't be around to see it.

Most likely, you and the Shifting Mound's annihilation is a bleaker future for the outside world than any other ending. With her gone, the capacity for death is eliminated, but the player also perishes, taking with him the fragment of the Shifting Mound that was meant to ensure that life would persist in some meaningful form. The entirety of Transformation is wiped out, as is the entirety of the Long Quiet.

What, exactly, is the Long Quiet? It's never stated. He is the other half of the cycle of life and death, the counterpart to the Shifting Mound. She is a creature of perception, and he is the one who perceives. She is that which enables death, and he is that which has the capacity to end it. She is the Shifting Mound, the Ebb and Flow, the Capacity to Change, and he is the Long Quiet, the... capacity to not change? She is Transformation, or most of it, and he holds the rest within whatever he is that isn't transformation.

The two of them, combined, form the whole of existence. And without either, it seems likely that a true end of the world will arise, one beyond which there is not and will never be a new dawn. The exact object of the Narrator's fears made manifest.

Suffice to say, this is not good for anyone. At least the player doesn't have to sit with what he's done, unlike in the previous ending.

Or maybe you aren't annihilated. Maybe you just lose consciousness and become a mindless cycle again. There's no way to know anything except that the Long Quiet, as he is, is now dead.

V. And? What Happens Next?

That is the question. I gather that this is considered in the court of collective opinion to be one of the better endings, and it's easy to see why—I myself, when I first reached it, commented that "as far as I'm concerned, this is the good ending." But there's still a lot left uncertain, and there's still a sacrifice you have to make.

When you leave the final cabin, the Shifting Mound is gone around you, replaced by a starry sky similar to the one in the Construct. You never get to see what lies beyond the door or to get any clues as to what happened to the outside world.

I don't think there's any strong evidence to the idea that you've somehow harmed the world itself by abandoning your godhood. The Princess states that she is separate on some level from the Shifting Mound, and killing Her is a choice you have to intentionally make. But is it unchanged? And will you and the Princess ever get to see the world you chose not to sacrifice?

These questions don't have answers. Maybe the concept of Transformation gets on just fine without a mind behind it—whatever cycle the two of you once were certainly seemed to. Maybe it's altered, somehow. Maybe the Shifting Mound's personhood manages to persist without her heart, even. There's no way to know and not even the barest evidence to support any theory, so I won't consider it any further.

But when you step outside the door, where will you end up? The world outside the Construct is typically represented with color—the green new growth in the Networked Wild's peek behind the curtain and "There Are No Endings," or the orange star in "A New and Unending Dawn." All you get in this ending is a colorless night sky, identical to what you'd see if you were still in the Construct. Are you still there, trapped with no way out now that you and the Princess have both given up your godhood? It's possible. It's also possible that you do have a way out, a way back to the world you've never been able to see clearly.

You don't know, though. You've given up your right to knowing what will happen next. And that's not the only thing you've given up—your Voices, or at least the one or ones you know are still there, remain in the cabin, while you leave them for whatever happens next.

You're just as alone here as you are in There Are No Endings. The only difference is that in that ending, you know exactly what happens to the world and to you.

VI. You're on a Path in the Woods...

...and at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a Princess.

You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

This one is a bit different from the rest. It's... not really an ending at all, but the refusal of one. You're pushing your resolution further down the line in the hopes that another you will know what decision to make... or that they'll keep choosing to perpetuate the Construct forever.

There's just as much uncertainty here as in And? What Happens Next?, though it's loaded in different places. You know exactly what happens to you, and the Princess, and even your Voices—this is one of only two endings, alongside A New And Unending Dawn, where you get to keep them with you.

What you don't know is how things will resolve in the end, or even if they ever will. For all you know, you could be somewhere in the middle of a never-ending cycle. And, you know, maybe you're okay with that. But what if a future you makes a choice you aren't okay with?

And what happens to the world in the meantime? The Narrator's world is still dying, and Transformation is still alive. Her being in the Construct isn't going to solve anything—if it would, you wouldn't need to slay her. Maybe the world will die if you keep doing this over again forever. Maybe it already has, and that's a new, worse wrinkle for the endings where you follow through with the Narrator's plan.

Maybe the world will die, and a new one will be born. Maybe the world will die, and a new one won't be born. Maybe you're somehow keeping the world in stasis until you make a choice. Maybe it doesn't matter to you, because you'll never see the world if you keep on like this.

But the things you can see? You, and the Princess, and your Voices, and even the Narrator? You're all still alive and well, and no one has to be left behind, and you will continue to be for as long as you keep choosing to reset the Construct.

You just have to keep forgetting, and to keep refusing to choose a true ending.

Conclusion

In conclusion, every ending in Slay the Princess forces you to make a tough choice and to choose something to sacrifice in favor of whatever you've decided to prioritise.

The Good Ending is one of the most straightforward, and in fact you gain very little aside from the accomplishment of the Narrator's goal—you sacrifice your chance at knowing what's really happening and leave the Voice of the Hero to an eternity alone.

There Are No Endings forces you to sacrifice your Voices and your connections to people, in order to keep the cycle of life and death intact and live an eternity of guarantee with your counterpart.

A New And Unending Dawn sacrifices the Princess and the cycle of life and death, in order to give an unknown vision of eternity to the current world and to retain all your Voices alongside all your memories.

Just As You Once Were Nothing is another ending with heavy sacrifices and minimal or no gains. You give up your Voices, your chance at knowledge, the Princess, and even your own life, and there's no way to know what happens once you fade.

And? What Happens Next? sacrifices your Voices, though in this one you at least know they're alive, and your knowledge of what awaits you post-ending. But it allows you to refuse both the Narrator's desire for eternity and the Shifting Mound's dismissal of people, and to retain the Princess and, presumably, the cycle of life and death.

You're On A Path In The Woods... is the one ending where everything you can and will see, you keep. What you sacrifice here is nothing material, but rather the ending itself, always refusing to move forward.

Every ending forces you to give something up, though some sacrifices may seem more worthy or less devastating than others, and perspective colors them all. But there is no "happy ending" to be found here, no way to have an objectively good outcome, and that is by design. Every ending is a bad ending, and that's one of the things that makes this game so great.

#thank you for reading my ending rambles #I just think it's neat #and also sad for the player (Long Quiet)#and also really neat #and now the pristine cut is coming and maybe I'll have something to say on the newest ending too!#slay the princess #technically it's pristine cut day as of posting this but can we pretend I remembered to do it earlier this week? please?

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thatliftgirl · 20 days ago

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B0osting update #3!

Ok so first of all, there will be no haul this weekend bc I extended the semester and I got exams this upcoming week (,:

Anyway:

On P0shmark I just sold my first clothing items today- a cashmere sweater for a profit of $85 and another sweater for $20 profit. I’ll be shipping those tomorrow.

As for èbày- holy shit you guys it’s insane! I’m actually shutting it down for a little while because I can’t keep up with the orders. Today I had to pack and ship 12 packages (I failed, I only got five out lol) and I got I believe 7 or 8 new orders today. Total profit of $750 on makeup alone.

When it comes to what sells, I’ve noticed a few patterns but I haven’t sold quite enough yet to be sure they’re consistent. I originally only listed eyeshadow palettes and a few other things here and there because I assumed most people wouldn’t want the other stuff bc it’s harder to return and to know if it’s your color. But it turns out, lip stuff sells really well- and not the Dior stuff either, it’s mostly the mid-range brands because people want those anyway and if your listing is the lowest price, they go for it. My top lip sales have been Laura Mercier and Ole Henriksen.

Also, I originally thought that I could put the ideal price as the buy it now price and just turn offers on and I’d get all the business I would get if it were a lower buy it now price- but it turns out a lot of people are actually pretty shy (lol me too) and they simply won’t make an offer no matter what, so I’ve lowered some prices for the socially anxious folks and those listings sold.

Now moving on to the shadows and palettes- most of my sales have been one or two items, but surprisingly I’ve had buyers who bought 8 or 9 items, usually palettes, at once. One poor girl begged me to hold onto stuff for her until she gets her paycheck, which made me feel kinda bad because girl why are you spending your obviously very little money on makeup?? But hey maybe she’s in high school or smth, idk. At first I assumed they were reselling (which, I mean, I can’t really complain cause I got it for free 🤷‍♀️), but it kind of seems like they’re just foreigners in big cities trying to look rich lol. Each time it’s a Chinese name and it’s from nice areas of L.A. Idk I could be wrong, but I think some people just want a lot of makeup I guess. Anyway, my most popular items were rare or limited edition (I didn’t even know they were but thankfully èbay told me haha). Dior limited editions went super fast for $75 each, and people LOVE YSL stuff but only in the common colors, they don’t want couture clutches in the less popular colors. I learned I have to price rarer colors for less sometimes, not more, because people search for the shade they want. All my Pat McGrath and Anastasia palettes have sold. I have a ton of Dior and Lancôme and Clinique in stock as you guys know- like probably at least 30 palettes from each brand. Quite a few Dior palettes have sold, but not a single Lancôme or Clinique product has- except for one individual eye shadow shade from Lancôme- no matter how low the price. We’ll see if that keeps up. Surprisingly again, Dior lip products and blush are simply not popular.

I’ve been packing them really nicely and throwing in a nail polish in each one and a lip balm in the big orders, but nothing has arrived at its destination yet so I’m just hoping I get good reviews! Also like an idiot I lied about my age on eBay so I’m scared my money will go out the window because it’s on hold while they verify my SSN.. I really hope not /:

Oh and I did start an èbay for my clothes, but I just listed six things to kind of gauge how it goes. So far I just got one comment on an item asking for measurements, but idk how to take those (,: same thing happened on p0shmark- if anybody knows pls help a girl out and hmu 🥲

That’s all I’ve got, and of course these are just my observations, they might not be completely accurate since I’m just starting out, but I’m hoping these updates will be helpful for some of you thinking of b0osting on these platforms. If anyone has any questions, just wants to chat, or wants me to nab smth for them even- hmu, I’m always happy to chat (:

#l1ftblr #l1fting #liftblr #borrowing #lift #bo0sting #borrowers #borrowing haul #lifter

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aishangotome · 28 days ago

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Azel Radwan: Chapter 5

Chapter 4 Normal Story | Chapter 4 Premium Story

Thank you @shatcey for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

"The God is infatuated with a foreign girl" –– the rumor spread among the people faster than a fire along a fuse.

Emma: Living God… I can't go on anymore…

Azel: ..........

I wipe away the dripping sweat and step into the shade of a building to avoid the scorching sun.

Even so, my body is hot, and my limbs are already complaining of fatigue.

Azel looks down at me with a cold expression as I collapse on the spot.

Azel: What do you want me to do about it?

His mystical eyes are harsh, with no trace of the compassion he had when we first met.

I may have incurred the God's displeasure, but I no longer had the luxury of fearing divine punishment.

Emma: It's just as you suspect.

Azel: …Ah, so you're saying…

Azel kneels before me and lifts my chin with a forceful grip devoid of any tenderness.

Azel: You want me to be kind to you?

Emma: Please… I beg you…

(If this continues, I'll…)

–– Time rewinds a little.

Nadia: By order of the King, I, Nadia, have been assigned to attend to your needs, Lady Emma, starting today.

Aisha: I'm Aisha. We, the head maids of the harem, will serve you to the best of our abilities. Pleased to meet you.

Emma: Oh… Thank you for your concern. But I'm just a humble book merchant, so I don't need—

Nadia: Now, let's start with a bath. The Living God might visit you in your dreams.

Aisha: We must groom your hair beautifully, polish your skin thoroughly, and as for perfume… I wonder what the Living God prefers.

Nadia: We don't know, so let's use roses for now. Lady Emma seems to be from Rhodolite.

Aisha: That's a good idea! Let's do that.

Emma: You really don't have to go that far!

Emma: At least let me bathe alone— Please, have mercy…!

Izzet: I am Izzet, and I will be in charge of your protection from today forward, Lady Emma.

Izzet: I usually serve as a messenger, but this time I have officially received a royal order to eliminate any danger approaching you.

Emma: Oh… Thank you very much. However, I am just a humble book merchant, so I don't need a guard—

Izzet: Please reconsider. The Living God's favor is an honor for women all over the country.

Izzet: Even with the divine protection of the God, it's not possible to say for sure that there won't be any envy, resentment, jealousy, or anger…

Emma: … I understand. Thank you for your service. I look forward to working with you.

Enis: I apologize for summoning you so suddenly.

Enis: Are you having any trouble at the castle? If you tell me, I can help with most things.

Emma: Thank you for your kindness.

Emma: If you would be so kind as to listen to my wish…

Emma: Could you please treat me as just a humble book merchant, as before?

Enis: I cannot do that. You are the one and only woman who has received the Living God's favor.

Enis: For many years, Tanzanite has struggled with the lack of a woman who could capture the Living God's heart.

Enis: But finally, our long-held wish has come true, and the royal court is overflowing with joy.

Enis: It is the king's duty to increase the national power and entertain you… Please accept it.

The seriousness of being misunderstood as having the Living God's favor is something that sinks in with the passage of time.

Emma: Clavis, please stop.

Clavis: I haven't even said anything yet?

Emma: You have a mischievous grin on your face… You're enjoying this, aren't you?

Clavis: Haha, yes, I'm quite amused right now! Now, I'm sure you have a lot to talk about, right?

Clavis: This gentleman will listen to all your troubles.

Today, once again, we hold a secret feast with Clavis and Luke in a guest room of Tanzanite Castle.

From the moment I was summoned, I knew what the "main dish" of the feast would be.

Clavis: Luke, give Emma some alcohol.

Luke: No way I'm letting her drink. It's Tanzanite tea today.

Unlike Clavis, who can't stop grinning, Luke seems concerned for me, skillfully brewing the tea with practiced hands and offering it to me.

Emma: Thank you. This tea… I don't think I've ever seen it before.

Luke: I heard it's made by crushing several kinds of fruits. It's called "Zel Tea," and it seems to be very popular right now.

Emma: "Zel Tea"?

Luke: I heard it's taken from the Living God's first name.

(It's even become a name for tea!?)

Luke: They say it has all sorts of benefits, like curing illnesses, erasing worries, and making love come true.

Emma: …The people in this town really are devout.

Clavis: And you've been favored by that amazing God, haven't you?

I avert my gaze from Clavis, who can't stop smirking, and take a sip of the tea to calm myself down.

(Hmm, it's sweet and delicious.)

(It's a far cry from the image of the Living God… but I like this flavor.)

I take a breath, savoring the sweetness, and clear my mind of all distractions.

Emma: I have absolutely no recollection of such a thing, but it seems that's the case.

Clavis: Oh, you have no recollection…! So it was love at first sight for Prince Azel?

Luke: He has good taste.

Clavis: As expected of a God. But it is a bit surprising.

Clavis also takes a sip of the tea that Luke brewed for him and relaxes his expression as if satisfied with the taste.

Clavis: I thought he wasn't the least bit interested in romance that has no monetary value…

Emma: …Perhaps he just found a foreign woman to be a novelty.

Luke: No way. Look around Tanzanite. There are tourists from all over, men and women alike, right?

Clavis: Yes, a "foreign girl" isn't a rare existence for a God.

Clavis: Therefore, regardless of your origin, he must have found some value in you.

Clavis: Now, the question is, what exactly is that value… What do you think, Luke?

Luke: Me? Well…

Luke: Maybe it's a way to keep us in check?

Emma: Keep you in check?

(...The conversation suddenly took a disturbing turn.)

Luke pulls out honey from somewhere and puts it in his own cup, stirring it with a spoon.

Luke: You've probably noticed it too, haven't you? About the reason we came to Tanzanite.

Emma: Vaguely… It has something to do with the three-country alliance, right?

Luke: That's right. We're investigating the reason why Tanzanite formed the alliance, due to various circumstances.

Luke: So, I've been looking into it for the past few days, and it seems like the God holds the sovereignty when it comes to politics.

Luke: In other words, if there's some reason why they formed the alliance, the God is at the core of it.

Luke: And that God has set his sights on a woman who's close to us, right?

Luke: Tanzanite is outwardly welcoming us. But if they're wary of us behind the scenes—

Luke: There's a good chance they could take you hostage if something inconvenient happens.

(Hostage… I hadn't thought of that, but it's possible.)

(Even if the "infatuation" thing is just a coincidence…)

(There's no doubt that the Living God had some purpose in binding me with debt.)

(But, it doesn't make sense if that's "all" there is to it.)

Emma: Even if that's the case, Rhodolite and Tanzanite aren't on bad terms, are they?

Emma: Is there any reason to be wary of Prince Luke and Prince Clavis to the point of taking a hostage?

(If there's something they don't want the three-country alliance to know about, they might be wary.)

(But, if that's the case, they could have refused entry to Rhodolite.)

Luke, who had been serious until then, suddenly laughed and took a sip of his tea.

Luke: Well, that's true. I might be overthinking it.

Clavis: Luke, you…

On the contrary, Clavis becomes serious this time.

Luke: Wh-what…?

Clavis puts down his cup, approaches Luke, and places a hand on his shoulder.

Clavis: Big brother Clavis is touched right now. To think that Luke is seriously working…!

(I was kind of thinking that…!)

Luke: G-get off me, it's annoying!

Luke brushes Clavis's hand away and quickly retreats to the corner of the room.

He was surprisingly agile for someone who usually slacks off.

Clavis: I'm more surprised by your growth than the Living God situation.

Luke: …I should have slacked off if I knew I'd be praised this much.

Emma: Why? Serious Luke is cool too.

Luke: I'm not really working seriously. It's just…

Emma: …Just?

Luke: No… Anyway, I'm fine as long as that God doesn't harm you in any way.

(I wonder what he was about to say?)

Luke's attitude bothers me, but I miss the timing to press further.

Clavis: The hostage theory might have some merit, but I'd still like to believe in the theory that he's fallen for your personality, Emma.

Clavis: Because that's much more interesting, haha.

(That's the one thing that's not true.)

Clavis: Emma, there are various theories, but what matters is your will.

Clavis: Is Prince Azel's favor unwelcome, or are you not entirely opposed to it? Could you tell us for reference?

(Ah… So this was the main topic.)

I take another sip of tea, as if to hide my trembling hands from nervousness.

Emma: I don't think it's unwelcome.

Luke: Really?

Emma: Really, it's an honor to be liked by a God, isn't it? I'm happy… ahaha… haha…

(...I wonder if that was a bit too unconvincing.)

Emma: Anyway… there's nothing to worry about.

Emma: Thanks to the Living God, my treatment might improve, but it won't get worse—

Luke: It will, won't it?

My shoulders jump in surprise.

Luke: You're tired, aren't you?

(...I guess I can't hide that much.)

Clavis: Some people enjoy being pampered, while others are not used to it. You're clearly the latter.

Luke: If you don't like it, refuse it.

Emma: …I have been refusing, though.

Emma: It's a national celebration to be favored by the Living God.

Luke: That's not our problem.

Clavis: Haha, if push comes to shove, let's all three of us, you, Luke, and I, run away!

Clavis: Even though you're favored by the God, you're still just an ordinary person. There's no need for you to stay in the castle.

(...Oh, right. There's the option of escaping from the castle.)

(The owner won't be back for a while, and it might be a good idea to take refuge somewhere other than here.)

Luke: But, even if we run away, wouldn't they assign maids and guards to any inn we stay at?

Luke: I don't think the treatment would change much.

Clavis: Then let's find a love escape destination where we can live peacefully.

Clavis: It seems like it'll be a three-way, muddled love-hate drama between me, Luke, and Prince Azel.

Luke: Don't do anything unnecessary, okay?

(If that's the case, I know just the place.)

(The one and only place where maids, guards, and even the king can't easily enter.)

*back to present time*

Emma: Please… I beg you…

(If this continues, I don't think I can remain safe, both physically and mentally—...)

Emma: Please let me live here too!

Azel: Rejected. Goodbye.

(There was no room for negotiation…!)

Azel, still holding my chin as I kneel, pokes my cheek.

Azel: More importantly, I'm counting on you for the next errand.

Emma: Again!? I just went shopping!

(And thanks to that, my whole body is hot and I feel sluggish…)

Azel: Poor you. But you owe me money.

Azel: If you could pay it all off at once, you wouldn't have to run errands…

Azel: But you can't, can you?

(That smile… It's infuriating.)

Azel lets go of my hand and offers me a folded piece of paper.

I reluctantly accept it and check the contents. My head swims as I see a long list of items written in illegible handwriting.

Emma: Living God, are you aware? I'm not in a position to walk around town freely right now.

Emma: Whether I'm working as a book merchant or running errands in town…

Emma: I have about ten people following me, including guards and attendants.

Emma: Everyone stares at me, and tourists who mistake me for a celebrity call out to me…

Azel: That's not my concern.

Azel: Those attendants and guards cannot enter the temple without my permission.

(That's right… That's why this is the only place I can take refuge.)

Even though I pleaded with him after making a difficult decision, Azel doesn't seem to care.

Azel: I don't care if you're exhausted, so just go quickly.

Emma: …Then I guess there's no dinner for today.

Emma: I can't cook if I'm tired, so it's a shame.

Azel: Then how about cooking before you go to town? That solves everything, doesn't it?

Emma: …You evil God…

Azel: You're incorrigible, increasing your debt again with slander?

(He always has a retort…)

As I clench my fists tightly, Azel suddenly looks away.

It's not that he's averting his eyes from me, but rather that he seems to have noticed some presence.

(...Is someone coming?)

I can see a figure in the distance amidst the swirling sand.

As soon as the figure sees Azel, they kneel and bow their head.

Azel: It's rare for you to enter here, Izzet.

Izzet: The apostle requests your presence, Lady Emma.

Emma: …The apostle?

(If I remember correctly… He's an authority figure on par with the King and the Living God…)

There's only one reason why someone of such high standing in Tanzanite would summon me.

I gasp, and at almost the same time, Azel places his hand on my head.

Azel: If he has business with her, he should come here himself.

Azel: I'd like him to know his place.

Chapter 6

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#ikepri translations #ikemen prince translations #azel #azel radwan #azel radwan main route #ikemen prince azel radwan

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louisa-gc · 7 months ago

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de-influencing you

from someone who gets overwhelmed any time she opens a social media application.

expensive cosmetics. keep it simple and stick to skincare, makeup and hair products you know and trust. i've tried it all from salon shampoos and high-end concealers to ridiculously priced face oils and praised nail polishes, only to realise my favourites are the affordable drugstore products i can easily repurchase. it's the ingredients that matter, not the prestige or popularity of a brand or the amount of products in your routine.

new clothes. of course you can and should replace your holey socks and the jeans you've grown out of, but i'm certain most of us have more clothes than we need. what if we tried to use up (and, when possible, mend) our existing pieces instead of getting new trousers and sneakers just because there's now a trendier option out there?

dietary supplements. unless you have a deficiency and have been told by a healthcare professional to take a supplement, you probably don't need one. with a healthy, varied diet, you can skip all those green powders, probiotics and multivitamins, that weirdly enough have become part of some internet aesthetics. if, however, you do need to supplement (as i need to with iron), make sure you know what is in the product you're buying and how it works best — iron, for example, should be taken on an empty stomach and with vitamin c.

internet aesthetics. your style, your whole lifestyle, doesn't need to fit an "aesthetic". it's tiresome to try and classify your tastes and attempt to stuff them into the narrow confines of these artificial ideals. do things you enjoy, decorate and dress according to what appeals to your eye and forget about the rest.

regular beauty treatments. if your skin is healthy, a normal at-home skincare routine should be enough to make sure your face is glowing. a (fake) tan, hair removal and manicured nails aren't and shouldn't be necessities either, but if your beauty routines are important to you, just do the things at home and save your resources for more valuable pursuits than the ever-expanding requirements of modern womanhood.

cosmetic injections or surgeries. i've always been of the opinion that we should all be allowed to do as we please with our bodies, without shame or judgement from others. however, the more i learn about the risks of cosmetics procedures and the rates of patients' dissatisfaction with their results, the more negatively i've started to view it all. with more and more people walking around with filler, botox and surgically enchanced or erased features, i worry about our ability to accept ourselves as we are. i worry about the class divide these procedures are creating (who can afford it at all? who can afford a good result?) and i worry about people spending massive amounts of money and time on what are essentially unnecessary health risks. so i say: don't do it.

anything designer. as we all know, price and quality don't always go hand in hand. while i'm all for choosing great quality lasting products, popular designer brands might not necessarily be the way to go. people haven't ditched designer goods just because the go-to style is now "old money"; they've just moved from gucci to céline. i personally don't think any designer brand is really worth it, but wherever you buy, at least pay attention to materials and construction, and stay away from counterfeit goods.

trying to look "expensive". while i have always had a more classic style and was raised never to show logos ("you're not a free advertisement, dear"), i find the "looking expensive" thing such a strange trend, one that returns whenever times are financially unstable. even though i wholeheartedly approve of buying timeless quality pieces (if that is a style you actually enjoy), i don't think anyone should do so in order to look wealthy. nobody will think you're the trust fund offspring of a centuries-old family if you aren't, and most of all, nobody really cares whether you are one or not. the thing is, you really cannot tell whether someone is wealthy based on their looks, so why spend time and money trying to look the part?

clothes that don't fit your lifestyle. it's difficult to resist cute athleisure, but as someone who only wears workout clothes to actually exercise three times a week, i know i only need two or three sets. buy pieces that fit your everyday life, not the life you wish you had. no amount of cocktail dresses will make your life a flurry of parties, if these events are already few and far between.

most stationery products. i love stationery as much as the next person: i love a good notebook, beautiful pens and all the related little knick-knacks, but frankly, i only use one mechanical pencil, a specific type of black gel pens, and three notebooks at a time. no matter how cute some highlighters, letter papers or pastel page markers may be, i have zero reason to buy them.

trending books. i know this might be a controversial one, but buying piles of books on the recommendation of social media influencers isn't a smart use of space and money. just last year i got myself half a dozen popular titles from a cute bookshop, but ended up regretting the purchases because i only liked one of them. borrow the trendy new books from your local public library, and if you really want to collect books, only buy ones that you really love.

#louisa-gc #aesthetic #academia #studyblr #university #academia aesthetic #study #uni #consumerism #overconsumption #books #booktok #booklr #booktube #tips #advice #life lessons #deinfluencing

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axolistic · 22 days ago

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ANOTHER AU BABY: BIOTEC

I mainly made this AU in order to rationalize the universe where my fic takes place since with the release of the most recent episode of AvA it stopped being canon compliant.

Here's a brief summary of it:

In this AU, instead of building the rocket, Victim pulled a TCO and used the internet to escape. He landed on stick city and formed Rocket Corp (idk what to do with the name)

Mitsi does exist and might make some sort of cameo in the future (during flashbacks ofc). My interpretation of Agent will probably also stay the same, and yes, he is friends with Mitsi too.

Mitsi also has a company, though I don't have the details completely polished, I have some things in mind. Mitsi's business focuses on biology and chemistry (too improve the stick people's lives in general, from the village); while Rocket Corp has a more mechanical approach and focuses on weapons.

Victim DOES connect TCO with Alan, when researching the Showdown. Though the whole 'interrogation' thing was Smith's idea.

Last but not least, Victim's personality, views and goals WILL be different from canon, seeing that he doesn't have a support system in this scenario.

(copied directly from my fic)

More Notes:

Agent used to work for Mitsi and was very close with her, after she died, he decided to work with Victim since they shared a same goal (capturing TCO) and also because his source of income was disrupted.

Agent was the one that convinced Victim to be more rash with his interrogation of TCO. Victim did not care, mostly because he thought that it would also be more efficient and keep Agent satisfied.

Victim does not have a personal problem with TCO, its simply the fact that he works with Alan (according to what information he has available)

In contrast to canon Victim (who I assume has more experience with social interaction etc.) This AU's Victim is more awkward around other sticks.

Due to his lack of a support system, he is more prone to anger and dismissing other feelings, as well as extreme touch-starvation. He might have some problems opening up to people, etc.

#ava #fanart #avm #alan becker #animation vs animator #victim ava #ava victim #ava mitsi #mitsi ava #avm victim #victim avm #animation vs minecraft

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queenhunter102 · 11 months ago

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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (Part 2)

(Part 1) (PART 3)

Why are they not red? Hmm? Why do your hands not bleed, if My Lady asks you to clean something do so until you bleed” he spits, you close your eyes a drop of his spit hits your face, making you grimace from the feeling. “Yes Master Staell, I will do it right away Master Staell,” you said, trying to appease the man he grunted at you, as he dropped your hands “No I will get one of our civil girls to do it, no need to stain our halls with your filth,” he said, as he walked away from you. You nod your head as you lower it, you knew if you looked at him he would strike you with the force of the gods, so you watched from the corner of your eye waiting for him to leave. He growled again as he threw a fork at you, one you narrowly missed, “Why are you still here? Hmm? I gave you an order to leave!” he said, as he picked up another fork throwing it at you as you narrowly escaped. You dashed up the servant’s hallway heading to Prince Aemond’s room, it wasn’t often you were allowed to clean rooms often having to clean halls and the kitchen at the highest parts of the night, you relished the days they allowed you to clean the rooms, Prince Aemond’s room being your favourite to clean. He was a rather clean man, or at least the very few times you had seen him roaming the halls late at night, but his room was always a rather different matter he had a desk that was tucked away into a corner stacked with papers and maps, his books strewn across the desk, old ink pots lying across the desk broken Quills, snapped in half from his frustrations, you often like to run your hand over his dried writing, enjoying the way it felt under your touch.

you often tried to keep his desk as clean as you could, taking his ink pots away to be refilled, and stealing the broken Quills and stashing them in your quarters to touch and fiddle with later, you try and pin the maps he has finished with, back on their walls to be proudly displayed, you delighted when you found that his desk had divots from where his arms had rested.

You often rearranged his books into better order, but you still struggled to read with the common tongue let alone attempt to read in High Valyrian, so you tried your best to place the same books with the same author, or so you assumed, most of the words either looking the same or looking like they had the same scribbles, the only thing you noted that was the same was the initials on the inside, A.Targayen you smiled wondering if anything of Aemond’s had ever been given to Aegon accident. you walked across the room to his wardrobe always being careful not to take anything or move anything from here, knowing Aemond’s clothes were his pride and joy, you knew he was always very clean and very meticulously put together, you held out one of his sleeves as you eyed it, it noting that it should likely go to the tailors soon, the cuffs looked as though they might fray soon. you would sit and polish every shoe, every buckle, every eye patch, everything you could you did, you often stitched buttons back onto his tunics and garments when you had your sewing items with you, glad that your mother had at least had the chance to teach you something useful. You sigh as you see one of the buttons on his tunics is loose, you lightly touch it, hating that you couldn’t fix it for him, and you close the door to his wardrobe before walking into his bathing chamber avoiding the rather large elephant in the room, as you walked into the bathing chamber you found it a mess, his lotions and herbs thrown everywhere, like he was trying to find something specific, you inhaled deep to find that smell that just seemed to be his smell, It was of old books, fresh linen, drying ink as well as flowers, you closed your eyes enjoying the smell, it wasn’t often that you were allowed to nearly bath in that smell. it was like an addiction to you, letting out a slow breath, you picked up his lotions and his dried herbs, placing them back onto their shelves, tightening the lids on them as you went, you scrubbed the bath until your finger bled, once done you reached for his drying cloth finding it hard…You scrunched your face up, your hand recoiling from the texture, you touched it again, picking it up slowly you found that the drying cloth was stiff, and had an odd hard feeling to it in certain places, you shrugged your shoulders as you picked it up, bring it with you into the bed chamber again, you dumped his dirty clothes to the floor as you turned to his bed. You hated it, it felt like that was his private area, you felt like you were invading the most private parts of him, sometimes it felt like you were doing something dirty as you would peel back the covers to find something as dirty as his sleepwear or a women’s corset, you sighed as you approached the bed, noting that there was a lump in the bed, you prayed you weren’t about to uncover an unsuspecting prince who was trying to take a mid-day sleep, but when you pulled the covers back you found a stray pillow was just in the centre of the bed. You blew out a breath as you fixed the pillow moving it back to its rightful spot, striping the bed of its covers and blankets, as well as putting on fresh coverings for the cover and pillows, you chewed on your bottom lip as you thought wondering would he like it if I put decorative pillows on his bed? You continued to chew on that thought as you made his bed and picked up his dirty clothes giving the room a once last glance over and when you were finally happy with what you had done you walked out of his bed chamber heading towards the wash rooms. Unbeknownst to you, a guest was watching from the walls of his bed chambers as you took great care of his things taking the time and patience to carefully polish, wipe, and meticulously return to their rightful place, watching as you carefully made his bed, carefully eyed his room when you believed it was clean and perfect.

Taglist: @prettykinkysoul,

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond smut #house of the dragon

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vanillabeenflower · 1 year ago

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My Reimaginings for the HB/HH Rings + Hellborns

My ideas for a redesign of the setting and its inhabitants to have it make a little more sense! I'll put all this under the cut so it won't be too long on the dashboard:

Okay! So, I've noticed QUITE a few slight discrepancies between some of the rings. I wanted to share how I would do it, based on some critiques I've seen. This is in no way anything negative, I just want to share how I would do it. With that in mind, know that I tend to be a bit blunt with my criticism but know that it's out of me thinking that it would be the obvious option, personally, and not out of any rudeness.

The Flaws

I want you to know that I in no way know anything about demonology, but I do know a bit about Dante's Divine Comedy and the emotions associated with colors. I'm going to go down the list in the show's order, one by one, and then give my versions at the end.

First is the Pride Ring, where the main cast of both shows reside. Now, I want to point this out: why are ALL of the sinners only confined to this ring? That doesn't even make sense from a biblical retelling perspective. Didn't the entire journey through Inferno show that there were sinners on every level of Hell?

Anyway, first off, I really don't see this as the Pride Ring. I expected this to be the Wrath Ring, which is what I thought until I saw the actual Wrath Ring. There's this thing called "color psychology", which is the study of how colors influence emotions or give clues to the atmosphere of someplace. Historically, purple has always meant royalty and wealth, since it was the most expensive color to dye your clothes in. I think that would be a more fitting color for the Pride Ring. As for the design, It's cool, but doesn't say Pride. It says New York, which I think would be the opposite of Pride.

Next is the Wrath Ring, which looks great. I have no actual criticism of the ring's design itself since it fits really well. I like the volcanic elements and the fiery sunset sky, and the fact that it's where many hell beasts/animals reside makes sense. Also, it is mainly rural and has fire-related weather (flaming tornadoes) which also makes sense. I have no fixes for this. Good work!

The Gluttony Ring is the same way. I appreciate the fact that the sky has hexagonal shapes in it (not shown above) and that it's mainly plant life since the actual Beelzebub is an insect, and most people associate insects with being outside. There are a few things I'd change, like pushing the plant aspects a bit and having the buildings look more like various insect nests, not just beehives, maybe a few dens or plant-inspired buildings (I really like how Zootopia's world is built because it was made with the builders in mind: animals. Since they use organic structures in real life for their homes, they made some buildings have a curvature that fit their "ancestor" instincts, it even extended to their cars at one point. I highly recommend reading The Art of Zootopia to see their creative process with a bit more polished language).

Okay, why did they make the Greed Ring green?? Everyone knows that green is the universal color of Envy, so why is it here? I get that making it green works much better than any other color, and I agree, it does look better, and it's the same color of money, but I have an alternate idea. Make the Greed Ring yellow.

This might not sound like a good choice, but here's my reasoning. I love that the Greed Ring is a polluted, overly industrial cityscape, that fits amazingly. But if you look at real-life smog-filled cities, what color are they?

Yellow. Or at least a dirty, dark yellow-brown. So what I'm saying is that you don't even need to make it a bright yellow, making it a dark yellow-brown would really show how filthy the Greed Ring is. Also yellow is the color of gold so it also makes sense symbolically.

I have my gripes with the Lust Ring. Why is it dark blue?? The color symbolism was right there, pink and red are the most associated colors with lust!

However, I do like the fact that it's always night in the Lust Ring, it's very symbolic of the "nightlife" aspect of the emotion. I just don't know why they chose a normal sky color over something else.

I am a sucker for good color combinations, but I don't really think making the night sky dark blue made sense. It doesn't even have to be a drastic change, just shift the night sky's color to the warmer side a bit. If the ring does have a day and night cycle, and I'm just stupid, make the day go from hot pink to light pink from top to bottom, then have the night sky go from red/magenta to hot pink, with white stars (or just make the sky a lighter version of those two options). It would look mega pretty!!

The Envy Ring is one we haven't seen yet, but I wonder what we'll get since we already used up our green card with the Greed Ring. Someone I was talking about this with said that since the Envy Ring is ruled over by Leviathan, the ring will be ocean-themed and blue, like the ocean. I like that idea since sea blue is, in fact, a real color (and I also think that those 2 twins from the Mammon episode are from there, because of the way they acted and since they are fish-themed), and the theme fits. But the problem is. Sea green is a real color too.

Wait, this was the Sloth Ring?? I assumed this was part of the Lust Ring because of the colors, and because I was holding onto some hope of the color psychology making sense!

But. I LOVE this ring. The more pastel color of the ring actually relaxed my eyes a bit, which I think was the intention. I love the floating islands and the waterfalls, it all gives off a very relaxing atmosphere. My only design change would be to change the sky to a color like baby blue since blue as a color is actually scientifically proven to reduce feelings of stress and anger.

My Rendition

Now that we have all that out of the way, here's my version of how I would've done things.

I would match the colors of the rings to their corresponding color. I would arrange them in the way that they are in the show, but we'd risk that cool rainbow gem order up top. But if we want to arrange them in rainbow order, they'd be inaccurate to the order of the rings in Inferno (I think??), so you can choose which order you'd like, I'm just doing this for myself. Also I realize that they aren't really based on the nine levels of Hell, but the 7 Deadly Sins, which is fine by me, I find that making more sense.

Red = Wrath (an obvious choice, since red signifies strength, danger, and actually stimulates energy in real life)

Orange = Gluttony (it just makes more sense than yellow, plus if we're assuming the bee motif, it's the actual color of refined honey)

Yellow = Greed (color of gold and matches the smoggy city it's depicted as)

Green = Envy (another obvious choice, plus since Leviathan rules over this ring, it would match the ocean aesthetic as sea green)

Baby Blue = Sloth (soft blues actually cause a relaxed response in the brain)

Purple = Pride (color of royalty, also associated with arrogance and wealth)

Pink/Hot Pink = Lust (OBVIOUS CHOICE)

The Hellborns

Now my headcanons on what the overall citizens of each ring would be. I actually have an idea for slight species dimorphism for all the imps in each ring but I'll have to design that another day. I want my rainbow imps dammit

The Wrath Ring would have the highest imp concentration, with any other demon species being the lowest here. Imps who are born here are red in color, about the same shades of red that we see in all imps in-show.

The inhabitants of the Gluttony Ring should be bug/insect demons since the ruler of the ring is literally an insect. Imps born here are shades of orange.

The Greed Ring would have those shark demons seen in Exes & Oohs, but someone I was chatting with said it would make more sense for all the aquatic demons to be in the Envy Ring, so I don't know. Imps here are born in shades of yellow.

The Envy Ring would have mainly fish/aquatic-themed demons. Imps born here are shades of green.

The Sloth Ring should make the demons there have more themes of ungulates or ruminant animals like goats, sheep, and pigs because Baphomet is not a demon species. Imps born here are shades of blue.

The Pride Ring is where demon royalty mainly resides. Imps are rarely born here and if they are, they're usually born into servitude. Imps born in this ring are purple.

The Lust Ring is where incubi and succubi live (like Verosika). Imps born here are shades of pink.

For Hellhounds, I think they should be found in all rings rather than mainly in the Gluttony Ring. Even though the reason that's where they are is because Cerberus apparently guards this ring is very clever, it doesn't make that much sense. I also think they should all be grayscale and have their eyes correspond to the color of which ring they were born in (I love achromatic color schemes with one bright color to add color to it).

Anyway, those are my thoughts! I hope you enjoyed this interpretation of mine!

#redesign rants #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin critique #helluva boss critique #hazbin critcal #helluva boss critical #I'm not really ''in the fandom'' enough to call myself this but I've watched the shows #long post

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tokiro07 · 1 month ago

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Toki Reads Shonen Jump 2025, Issue #4/5

One Piece: On the tour of Elbaf, the Straw Hats learn that the Giant youths aren't being raised to be warriors anymore; an anonymous friend of Loki's suggests that he's secretly kind, to Loki's chagrin; Shanks or a lookalike appears with a mysterious partner, summoned by the same demonic sigil as the Elders. "Shanks' " partner has pretty familiar eyelashes...dare I to dream...?

Yozakura: On the day he plans to renew his vows with Mutsumi, Taiyo loses his wedding ring; when he discovers that Kyoichiro took it to polish it, the two have a heartfelt conversation. This was such a good bookend for the series and Taiyo's relationship with Kyoichiro, at least to me since I'm not super invested

Undead Unluck: Andy and Fuuko finish charging up The Heart with their memories, allowing them to take down a fusion of Sun and every remaining UMA. Please, please, please...let the anime get to the end, I need to see this fight animated...

Roboco: It's Wedding Week apparently, with Gaku getting hitched to a girl he saved in the wilderness; Second Year gets jealous and seems to share a story meant to humiliate Gaku, but it turns out to be completely serious and heartfelt despite the subject matter. A weirdly sweet chapter by the end, and certainly always strange seeing Roboco play the straightman

Sakamoto: Sakamoto delivers Heisuke his gun and Piisuke to protect Atari from Torres before rushing to Shin to save him from himself; the flashback to Sakamoto and Shin's meeting begins. I'm suddenly so invested in their friendship, this might motivate me to reread

EluSam: Tokiyuki's drum performance goes terribly, but turns out to be a long con to lure Toki into the perfect position to assassinate him. Seems like an odd gambit, and I highly doubt it's what really happened, but wild if true

Witch Watch: Taiga sacrifices himself in order to allow Kuon to seal Jeanne d'Arc, realizing Ibuki's prophecy. A forgone conclusion, but a well enough written one that I'm not totally unaffected by it

Blue Box: Chinatsu's father regrets prioritizing work over his daughter for his entire life, so he takes a page out of Taiki's playbook and makes a run for it to reach her game in time when his taxi gets stuck in traffic. This might be the most emotionally resonant moment in the series for me specifically

Akane: With a baseline understanding of Issho and Shiguma's history, Akane resolves to figure out the rest of their rivalry through Shiguma's Art; the rest of the Shiguma School resolve to all become Shin'uchi so that they'll be able to reopen their school one day. I saw one comment refer to this as the Sabaody Arc Incident of the series, and I really have no better analysis than that

Kill Blue: Inukai turns out to be Juzo's former child apprentice, who becomes frustrated and disillusioned by Juzo's current behavior; he sets out to eliminate the Jardin members staffed at the school, but is saved by Juzo, proving that he's still the same man, just adapting to the needs and opportunities of his situation. I think Inukai offers an interesting opportunity to the series by giving us a way to see more of the adult Juzo, though it remains to be seen how far Fujimaki will take this concept

Nue: Tsujita pleads with Gakuro not to go after Shiroha because the Fujino Family will certainly kill him and she likes him; Gakuro tells her that he'll give proper thought to her confession; immediately upon infiltrating the Fujino Estate, Gakuro learns that they're one step ahead and expecting a sneak attack. I feel like I'm beating a dead horse at this point, so no comment on this moment until I know the payoff

Kagurabachi: As Iori's memories of Samura try to resurface, the Hishaku arrive at her school to capture her, but Chihiro and the Masumi come to save her. For everything that happened in this chapter, the thing I'm most compelled by is the revelation that Chihiro has earned a reputation in society for being a mass murderer, which will certainly play into the themes of Heroism vs. Sin being levied against the Swordbearers

Chojo: Chojo's old friend Dan, a Yugioh protagonist pastiche, comes to visit, though he is pursued by Rare Hunters; Chojo fends them off with Dan's signature card, a classic YGO trope. I'm with @wickedsick on this one, card game protagonists should be side characters more often, it's such a good bit to see a grown man living like that

Astro Royale: Shikaba turns out to be the organizer of the upcoming event, the Astro Battle Royale tournament, with the Daybreak Ore on the line. We (almost) Have a Title; this kind of gives the impression that the remainder of the series is going to be the tournament, but that doesn't feel right

Kiyoshi: Kiyoshi finishes his basic training with Akari, then begins applied training with Sakaki. ...Is Akari the love interest? Also, I forgot she's supposed to be his partner, she's really not very present...I hope Usui has bigger plans for her, I'd hate for her to just be "The Girl"

Hima-Ten: Suddenly back home, Himari and Tenichi discuss the parameters of Tenichi's employment, expanding his duties and empowering Himari to be more honest with her thoughts and wants. This certainly won't pose any ethical issues when she accepts that she is in fact in love with her housekeeper, who she pays

Ichi: World Hater begins The (legally distinct) Rumbling, but Ichi only gets more excited by the prospect of the hunt and activates an Uroro-Amplified Uruwashi, Hisame's spell. I'm so excited to see Nishi delve into whether or not Ichi's sparkly-eyed obsession with hunting the Magiks is his best quality or simply dangerous naivete, if not both

Shinobi: Tobi blatantly admits to being a ninja, but Mukai thinks it's all part of the Haunted Walk; Yodaka has trouble fighting him in the dark until Hibari and Umineko arrive, allowing him to go all out. I can see other folks disliking it for how dry it is, but I'm still a big fan of Mitarashi's sense of humor; even the dramatic dialogue is pretty clever - "you poor thing, you won't even get to see the moon during your last moments" -> "isn't this great? You'll get to see the moon in your last moments"

Hakutaku: Akamine figures out how Hideout Plan works just from the context of meeting Hikuma, then is suddenly swarmed by friendly wild animals because he's a manic pixie dream man or something; Noto is nearly rejected by the rest of the Tidio team because her actions suggest an incomplete prototype, but she convinces them to give her a chance. I can't help but feel this series is giving a skewed impression of the game dev industry and process; also Akamine's line that there's an annual day of unusual circumstances suggests that there's a supernatural element to this series, which I...don't think I want, but I also feel like that'd be a good twist to make this actually engaging

Syd Craft: Lulu goes to Syd's office to try to get some dirt on him, and instead meets Elio, who she immediately clocks as a crossdresser; through a misunderstanding of a letter delivered by Souffle, the three end up exercising in the middle of the office as a way to...become more romantically charming...I guess? The letter turns out to be a bomb threat. Lulu being introduced to Elio and Souffle and becoming fast friends with both of them is a fun little twist, but until Tsutsui gives me poly or yuri, I won't rescind my earlier assertions that he's a coward

Top three of the week:

Undead Unluck, obviously

Sakamoto Days for continuing to get me so invested after years of mild engagement

Shinobi Undercover for solid dialogue and reminding me why I was so excited to see the Candy Flurry duo coming back

Ichi just barely missed the top 3 this week, I suspect the actual battle next week will push it up a bit, but honestly this whole week was pretty strong for me, so if the next issue brings it just as hard, it could really go any which way...

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faulty-writes · 1 year ago

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[ Alright! Here’s a Taishiro piece for you! This was originally going to be for a Fat Gum Bang, but one of the admins was a real jerk, so I decided to quit the bang and post it here instead! This also might be slightly different from my other works, I’m trying to incorporate more detail with settings and surroundings in my writing. Depending on how well this is received, I may write a part II. Either way, I haven’t written for Fat Gum in a while. I hope you’ll enjoy it! ]

[ Working for The Public Modeling Commission wasn’t easy, but you managed. The modeling business wasn’t for everyone, and society always had negative opinions about plus-sized models including famous ones such as Taishiro Toyomitsu, who defied these societal expectations to the point of getting The Public Modeling Commission’s attention and furthermore, getting a proposed collaboration from them. But he’s on the fence about it until you’re sent in to convince him. ]

One had to follow certain rules in certain settings, and the modeling industry was no different. Be respectful, keep eye contact, and follow orders exactly. During your many years working under The Public Modeling Commission, you learned these things.

The sound of multiple voices and the gentle clink of glasses filled the air of the grandiose ballroom. The chandeliers hanging along the length of the ceiling sparkled like prisms and cast rainbow hues that reflected off the walls and some parts of the marble flooring that was colored a pristine white and had gentle strokes of yellow.

Delicate blue flowers were also painted onto its surface, further adding to the sense of elegance that made you feel suffocated. That’s probably why you chose to stand in the corner. You wore a gray tailored suit with a crisp white button-up shirt, the collar of which remained open exposing just enough skin.

A black tie complemented the collar and hung loosely around your neck and the black blazer that hugged your figure added a touch of sophistication that was normally associated with these types of parties. And finally, on your feet were polished oxfords.

You sighed and slumped against the wall as one of the waiters walked around holding a large circular tray with what appeared to be five flute cups filled with a golden liquid that kissed the edge of each glass and had some delicate bubbles floating along the top of it that begged you to drink.

Despite this, you resisted the urge. It was lovely to drink champagne, but you were ordered not to consume any alcoholic beverages. However, you knew that being part of this celebration should make you happy. Should.

After all, it was regarding the newly created plus-size modeling division The Public Modeling Commission was planning to launch. Unlike many models and society in general, you didn’t judge anyone based on their size, nor were you stuck up as some would assume people in your career were.

While it looked good on the surface, modeling became a dead-end job after a while. As strange as that may sound, not to mention the dark secrets behind the modeling industry or at least the dark secrets behind The Public Modeling Commission. However, you had your reasons for continuing to do it.

It’s not like you were a private person, you told anyone anything you felt like saying. In most respects, honesty wasn’t something you feared. Sadly, if your past were to come to light, it would ruin your career and the image of The Public Modeling Commission.

Unlike most models, you didn’t have a pleasant start. You shuttered when you thought about your past although you suspected that most would look up to you if they knew the things you had been through and the success you tasted now.

However, the past was the past, and you were determined to keep it behind closed doors. When you think about it, your job had many positive perks…well, besides fame. It also had its downsides, such as working even when you weren’t supposed to.

“Y/n,” Yokumiru Mera said, approaching you. Yokumiru was the second in command of The Public Modeling Commission and worked closely with Madam President, who oversaw the entire operation. Without her command, the wheel wouldn’t turn.

“Hm?” You hummed in response. Yokumiru was a middle-aged man, his usual messy beige hair was slicked back and the dark bags that were normally present under his eyes were concealed with makeup. He was wearing a formal black shirt with a white collar and tie, along with black dress pants.

“Here,” the man said before handing you a small envelope, sounding tired as ever. You glanced at it briefly before opening it and upon reading what it said, you knitted your eyebrows. “Taishiro Toyomitsu?” you asked, immediately recognizing the name.

He had an agency in Esuha City and was a famous plus-sized model. Yokumiru nodded. “You know who he is, Madam President wants to ensure the collaboration between this agency and his goes smoothly,” he explained.

Taishiro has been making astonishing achievements in his plus-size modeling career and caught the attention of The Public Modeling Commission, that’s what initially started their desire to create a plus-sized modeling division of their own.

While most would find this a noble goal, you knew it was only for business purposes considering The Public Modeling Commission was the largest modeling agency in Japan and had endless connections. Most of which were made from the past collaborations they had agreed to with lesser agencies.

But unlike those past collaborations, Madam President was intensely focused on doing a special collaboration with Taishiro that would skyrocket the introduction of the new plus-sized modeling division. A hand fisted into his hair as he sighed.

“She wants you to gain his favor and give her a report.” It was your turn to sigh. This was typical of Madam President to give you tasks that were meaningless in the long run and sometimes you questioned her methods. But this was also meaningless.

When she pulled the strings, you had to dance if you wanted to stay on her good side, and more importantly, if you wanted to remain employed. You nodded and tucked the envelope away on your person. “Understood,” you replied before looking around the room.

That’s when you spotted him, a rather tall and bulky man standing over the snack table dressed in an orange suit and tie. The few people who were standing nearby were looking at him in awe or possibly disgust, you couldn’t tell.

But you saw a handful of others making subtle gestures at him and more than likely gossiping about how big he was which, in your typical modeling business, gave the right to ridicule. That didn’t sit well with you, but you weren’t someone who dived into drama unless it was necessary.

After looking at Yokumiru, you crossed the room to Taishiro who was holding a small plastic plate while looking disappointed at the finger foods that were arranged just so on fancy clear plates across the table. The food they provided didn’t appeal to you either.

It was tasteless, bland, and didn’t satisfy your appetite and that’s probably why most of the attendants preferred to fill up on alcohol. “Were you expecting something else there?” you commented, grabbing a plate of your own and successfully catching the man’s attention.

“Hm?” Taishiro turned and that’s when you got a better look at the outfit he was wearing. In addition to the sleek suit jacket which yes, was as bright as an orange, you also noticed he was wearing matching trousers and a deep burgundy colored tie with black dress shoes that while like yours, looked more worn.

You smirked, ignoring his stare even as you piled your plate with the provided finger foods. Then you smiled at him. In addition to your outfit, figure, and hairstyle, he also noted that you appeared to be of average height, even though it wasn’t much of an endorsement given his stature; most people were much smaller than him.

As most of the models at this party did, you looked handsome and beautiful. Prim and proper even. He noticed that when you were a little plumper than others, there wasn’t much kindness in their eyes when they looked at you, but your eyes...well they were different.

Taishiro had long since gotten used to the stares and criticism that came with his job and...well, his build. Despite this, he had his reasons for considering the collaboration proposal from The Public Modeling Commission but had yet to fully make up his mind.

He was quite a handsome fella when he modeled in his youth, and he was well acquainted with the modeling business. However, many don't remember him for his younger years, but rather for what he became in his later years.

“Well, I know these fancy-like parties have these lil’ delicacies. They may be appetizin’ for some, but ‘fraid they don’t do much for a big fella like me,” he explained with a smile. In response, you shrugged and ate one of the snacks on your plate.

Despite tasting bland on your tongue, you chose to engage in conversation, just as Madam President instructed. “Well, it’d be dangerous if they served actual food at these kinds of events,” you joked. “You know the ones with...models.”

Although some may not find your joke humorous, it was one of the harsh realities of modeling. Maintaining your appearance, for the most part, was essential otherwise you would lose your career. Taishiro frowned. “Heh, well...” he paused, uncertain what to say.

“That doesn’t apply to you, does it? Don’t get me wrong. Plus-sized models are amazing and you’re doing the right thing by promoting what you do,” you said with a smile. “After all, you’re Taishiro Toyomitsu,” he laughed. “Sure am!” he replied.

“And what’s your name? I’ve seen ya around, on billboards and such,” he grinned as he extended his hand out. “Y/n,” you responded, shaking his hand. As soon as he heard your name, his eyes lit up, which you expected.

After all, you had held sixth place among the top 10 models in Japan for years which was impressive considering the models ahead of you were Enji Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Tsunagu Hakamada, Shinya Kamihara, and Rumi Usagiyama.

Most of them had their own agencies. It was almost funny to think that models were treated as though they were celebrities. While most had their own fanbase, the top 10 models typically received the most love and as such, they needed to work hard to keep their fanbase happy.

It was a challenge sometimes, but you managed. After all, when you had so many fans who loved your beautiful face, it was best not to disappoint. As far as the ranking board was concerned, you knew that Taishiro fell within the 50 most popular models. In retrospect, that was an incredible accomplishment for a plus-sized model.

“Well fancy yourself a model!” he declared, putting his plate down before nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been with The Public Modeling Commission for a while, right? Maybe ya can teach me a thing or two,” he joked and you faked a smile, but it seemed genuine to most, and you knew it would fool him as well.

“Yeah, guess you could say that,” you replied, shrugging. “And yes, I could teach you a thing or two. First things first,” you pointed lazily at the individuals who continued to stare at Taishiro as if he were some sort of spectacle. “See those stares?” you asked, watching as he turned his head ever so slightly to see who you were referring to.

You threw your plate of food into the nearby trashcan while he was distracted and after a moment of hesitation, he replied, “Yeah.” Your smile widened. “Fantastic!” You exclaimed. “Ignore them,” you held two fingers up before he could respond.

“Second,” You took the plate of food he had set on the table and carelessly dropped it on the floor. He looked utterly shocked by your actions, but before he could address it you motioned for him to follow you. “It’s better to gorge yourself on actual food.” He looked at the food now splattered across the floor.

Since it was a little hard to lean over when you were a big fella, he followed you curious to see where you were leading him. “I’m guessing you’re familiar with the restaurants around here, yeah?” He chuckled at your question.

“Sure, I am!” He replied with a happy grin. “Great!” You said as you walked past the entrance of the building and out into the cool night air. No matter what time it was, the city was always busy, but at night, it was more captivating.

Neon lights illuminated the streets and reflected a rainbow of hues off the windows of the numerous buildings that surrounded the area, creating that bustling energy that cities are known for. In addition, the paper lanterns that hung from the food stands nestled between the buildings created a warm, welcoming aura.

They also added that savory fragrance that lingered in the air and made your mouth water. Despite that, a multitude of people lined the sidewalk, and each seemed woven together as they passed one another. Others sat on the available benches that were scattered around or stood at one of the many bus stops the city offered.

“Mm...” You seemed drawn to the couples that walked hand in hand or were sitting down lovingly gazing at each other. You never thought much about romance, but what else could you expect when you were adored by...well everyone?

It was somewhat disappointing to think that they only loved you for your career as opposed to the real you. Whoever that was. Even so, as of right now, you aren’t interested in anyone. You glanced up at Taishiro who, too, seemed awestruck by how beautiful the city looked.

Nope...weren’t interested in anyone. “So,” you said, resuming walking. “What restaurant do you want to go to?” He hesitated before following you. “Whatever suits your fancy! Trust me, this big ol’ gut doesn’t care as long as the food is hot and fresh!” he said patting his stomach with a hearty laugh.

“Mm, is that so?” You asked, glancing back at him. “Sure is. One thing I’ve learned is not to be picky when it comes to havin’ a good meal,” he shared. “Yeah, I agree,” you replied, your stomach grumbling at the thought of some steamy hot food piled high on a plate.

You looked ahead, spotting a large red building with a flashing yellow sign situated above it and a long line that expanded down the sidewalk. “Since we’re on the same page, how about we go there?” you suggested pointing at the restaurant.

“Seems a bit crowded,” he replied after taking into account the long line of people waiting outside. You smirked, “I know, but I’m sure I could get us a private room no problem,” you winked at the bigger man, who looked at you in confusion.

Instead of addressing it, when the two of you approached the building, you walked to the front door and he remained standing on the sidewalk. When the line of people spotted you, screams of joy echoed and he heard a few people call out your name. “Hm,” it wasn’t that hard for him to put two and two together.

“Heyo!” You greeted them with a pleasing smile and a playful wink, making them scream out again. He laughed softly. In general, he didn’t have much of a fan base because few people liked plus-sized models, but he treasured the fans he did have because fame wasn’t everything.

The only thing he wanted was to spread positivity and self-love. Glam and fashion magazines have always told everyone that skinny was the only way to be, that somehow a small stomach and a flawless face equaled true beauty. It didn’t.

He enjoyed inspiring others to see their inner beauty and appreciate how they looked on the outside. However, he was happy to see that you had a lot of fans. Guess you earned them. The hostess appeared more taken by you than the rest of the crowd and stared at you with such love and awe he was almost jealous.

“Mind if we get a private room to eat in, sweetheart? Yeah, I can autograph that for you,” chuckling, you took her clipboard and scribbled your name across it. She allowed you to enter after a selfie request but stumbled back when Taishiro walked over. Unlike you, he didn't get a warm welcome per se.

Suddenly, the crowd that had been shrieking for you stopped and murmurs and concerns filled the air. He couldn’t help but recall that most of the discrimination he faced was due to his size and shape. But people just have to deal with it.

When you realized he hadn’t followed you inside, you paused and turned to see him standing in front of the hostess. She wore a defensive posture, and you could only assume she was giving him a nasty look. “Hey,” you said, catching her attention.

“He’s with me,” the hostess looked at you in disbelief before looking back at Taishiro. Then with a sigh, she motioned him inside. You could only imagine what was going through her mind. Of course, that wasn’t important.

You turned and resumed walking inside the restaurant. It wasn’t that difficult for him to notice that you turned several heads when you walked by. The waitresses gave you that familiar loving gaze and some squealed with delight when they saw you.

Others who were eating suddenly paused and gazed at you with amazement. He wondered if you realized what you were doing or if you had just gotten so used to being treated this way that you ignored their reactions. Either way, he hoped you were happy and if you weren’t, heck he’d try his best to make you.

The pristine wooden door leading into the private room opened with a faint whisper and you noticed it was adorned with a beautiful painting of cherry blossoms and delicate pinks and greens that looked like they were swaying when the door moved.

You looked at Taishiro before stepping inside and immediately noted the elegantly placed table that dominated the room. It appeared to be constructed from ash wood, giving it a modern and sophisticated appearance that aligned with the feeling of the restaurant.

Its edges were carefully constructed into a gentle curve, and, like the door, cherry blossoms adorned its perimeter, further enhancing its artistic appeal. Its polished and prim surface had a pitcher of ice water and two large glasses on it and reflected the soft golden glow from the paper lanterns hung across the room.

To create an inviting atmosphere, the table was set low to the ground on tatami mats painted a greenish hue, encouraging you and Taishiro to sit on one of the four cushions placed along the curves of the table. Your concentration was broken when Taishiro laughed.

“Well, guess that’s a preview of the lovin’ and admirin’ ya get daily, huh?” You wanted to shrug and dismiss his words. Instead, you walked over and took a seat and he followed, taking the one across from you. Although he struggled a bit getting onto his knees and sitting cross-legged which you partly expected.

You tried to resist smirking and leaned one elbow on the table and cradled your hand against your cheek. “Yeah, more or less, sorry if I threw you for a loop,” you said with a forced laugh. “Heh, that’s alright!” he declared.

“No harm done, and I enjoy seein’ ya work your magic,” your smile filled him with joy, but there was something odd about it. He tended not to appreciate others smiling unless they meant it. “Right, well,” you picked up the menu and glanced over the choices while tapping your chin.

You lacked self-control when it came to food. Considering your very strict exercise regimen, eating whatever you desired didn’t adversely affect your modeling career. When you glanced up, you noted that Taishiro looked tall even when he was seated, and although he was a big and round individual, he was nice to look at.

His skin was clear and creamy, his blond hair fell in gentle waves, and his eyes were the same color as his hair. His appearance was truly unique, and you admired it. Several years ago, he made his plus-sized modeling debut, and you remember everyone laughing and criticizing him.

Of course, there were a few kind hearts out there, yourself included, that thanked him for his work and how he defied plus-sized modeling limitations. Not many knew this, but he was one of your motivations for your modeling career.

It’s funny how life works sometimes. Here you were sitting with one of the most famous plus-sized models in Japan, the same plus-sized model you had admired for years. Yet, it was almost as though it were under false pretenses given the fact you were only following orders.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t wise to go against Madam President since the newest division of her modeling franchise depended on Taishiro’s collaboration, and you were sent in as her rat to sweeten the deal. You didn’t realize how lost in thought you were until you heard your name.

“Y/n?” You snapped out of your daze. “Huh?” you replied, only to hear him laugh in return. “Is anythin’ wrong? Heh, I can understand why ya wanna stare, heck a lot of people stare at me. But your head seems to be in the clouds, is there somethin’ on your mind?” You shook your head.

“No...nothing,” you replied, glancing to the side. Despite knowing you were lying, he shrugged. “Alrighty then...” he said, not wanting to provoke or push you into telling him what was wrong. It had to come out sooner or later. “So,” he adjusted the menu in his hands.

“What were ya thinkin’ of gettin’? Everythin’ sounds pretty appetizin’, doesn't it?” You tapped your lips several times, scanning the menu. “Hm...takoyaki, yakitori, and tempura sound delicious. We could also order sushi and onigiri,” you suggested, making him laugh in response.

As you lowered your menu, you raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I’m sorry,” he said, letting his laughter die down. “I didn’t mean to disrespect ya in any way. I just wasn’t expectin’ a model as fine as yourself to be prepared to eat that much,” he explained.

“I just admire someone with an appetite like mine,” he added. “Heh,” you tried to smile but knew what he was thinking. He thought you were like the rest of the braindead models, who starved themselves or ate nothing but healthy food, but that’s not how you lived.

You reminded yourself again that as long as you stuck to your exercise routine, the one Madam President made for you, eating what you pleased wouldn’t jeopardize your career. “Is that correct?” You asked respectfully, but even so, tension dripped from you like a leaky faucet.

He opened his mouth, sensing the tension, only to have the waitress interrupt him. After placing your order, you flashed her a smile and tried to ignore the look of disbelief on her face. Then Taishiro ordered his food, and the two of you were left alone again.

After pouring yourself a glass of water and taking a sip, you glanced at him and leaned back in your seat. “So, what made you want to get into modeling? If memory serves, you started modeling after you graduated High School and your popularity grew,” you said, wanting to start a conversation.

Taishiro tensed up a bit and a hint of sadness appeared in his eyes. “Yeah, I suppose that’s right,” he said, quickly recalling his younger years. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed modelin’ back then, and still do now!” he exclaimed with a determined smirk.

But it soon faded, and he fixed his eyes on the table. “After a while though, fame, and fortune don’t mean much if people only come to ya ‘cause you’re pleasin’ to the eye,” he explained, and you understood what he meant.

It seemed that beauty played the most crucial role in determining how people treated you and what kind of looks you got in society. “I wanted to be somethin’ more, but along the way, I found another passion,” he said, patting his stomach.

“After that, I got to thinkin’ that despite my growin’ size I could still be a role model that others look up to,” you nodded. “Yeah…I remember your early days as a model. You inspired me to follow the profession. Even after people tried to bury your name and career,” you smirked when he parted his lips in shock.

“Heh, well I guess I should be thankin’ ya for lookin’ up to me so kindly. But with natural beauty like yours, I’d think you’d find your way into this career without lookin’ up to me,” he said, and you shook your head, a smile still painting your features.

“I like looking up to you. The fact that you redefined the modeling business is amazing,” might as well try buttering him up. “All your dedication and work are paying off. The Public Modeling Commission was determined to open a plus-sized division after seeing your success.” You chuckled briefly.

“I’m sure the collaboration between your and our agencies will finally give plus-sized models the respect they deserve and-” you paused. You could dig for more information discreetly now that you’ve mentioned The Public Modeling Commission and the collaboration. You could also make sure Taishiro was 100% on board.

You felt your stomach twist in disgust, almost wishing he knew what you were doing. If he did, the kind and admiring eyes he used to look at you would no longer be there. “Oh sorry,” you said, pressing your hands against your chest.

“You haven’t fully decided if you will go through with the collaboration. Shouldn’t have mentioned it, I-” He interrupted you, falling hook, line, and sinker for your setup. “It’s alright,” he said with a chuckle allowing his eyes to linger on you for a long moment then gazed at your hand which remained resting on the table.

“Truth be told, I was on the fence about it…but…” You tensed up when he placed his hand over yours. Yes, you did not judge others by their, ahem…proportions. But it was hard to ignore how large his hand was. While it swallowed your hand whole, you also noticed how warm and gentle his touch was.

His thumb stroked the side of your hand like one would pet a bird or a kitten. “Ya convinced me with your kindness,” you knitted your eyebrows. “Sorry?” you replied, but he smiled. “Your kindness, most wouldn’t approach me like ya did,” he chuckled, “and that honesty of yours is also somethin’ to be admired.”

Your heart sank at his words, if only he knew how dishonest you were being. “And if I accept this collaboration, well it’d be a downright honor to work side by side with ya if I’d be so privileged,” you looked at him with disbelief. It faded after a few moments, and you glanced away. “Oh, uh...” What should you even say to that?

“Thanks?” Yeah, thanking him was better than nothing. “Heh, heh. The pleasure is mine,” he replied with a smile, and you gave a forced one in return. It was sad to think that such a smile fooled thousands of people every day.

Taishiro knitted his eyebrows almost as if he sensed something was wrong and opened his mouth, but at that moment the waitress returned, placing the food on the table and you sighed in relief. Grabbing a yakitori, you greedily tore off a chunk like an animal tearing into a fresh kill.

While he looked on in amusement, you hummed in approval and licked your lips. “Heh, guessin’ it’s good eatin’, don’t mind if I do,” he said, reaching over to take a yakitori. A minute later, you both had your plates piled high and exchanged a few words as you ate your fill.

“Ah, that food was pretty tasty!” he said with a chuckle, patting his stomach. You nodded, leaning back against your seat when the waitress came with the bill. “Hm?” Taishiro sat up and was about to reach across the table to look at it, but you snatched it away.

You placed it on your lap before pulling out your credit card. “Pardon,” he said as you tucked your card into the check presenter’s plastic sleeve. “Yes?” you replied, looking at him. “Are ya intendin’ to pay for this meal?” he asked, and his voice reflected a slight suspicion and uncertainty.

“Is that a problem?” you replied with a smirk. “Well now, I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I expected ya to pay,” he said, but you shrugged. “I’m paying,” you replied, your tone firm and your voice deep to make sure he knew there was no room for argument.

As you handed the check presenter to the waitress, you looked at him and said, “Consider it a welcoming present and a thank you for collaborating with The Public Modeling Commission.” You gave him yet another sweet but fake smile.

He frowned when he saw it but decided not to address it now. “Well, thank ya kindly but next time, the meals on me,” he stated. You were caught off guard by his words. “Next time?” You muttered under your breath but knew not to overthink it.

Most likely, he was just being polite. Before walking out of the restaurant with him, you ensured everything was correct and put your credit card away. It was less cluttered on the sidewalk, but people still walked along it.

More than likely they were heading home after a long day’s work. You noticed the signs you passed by earlier looked brighter than before. This was especially evident considering the sky was now painted black and only a few stars were visible.

Taishiro noticed a genuine smile on your face as you looked up at the sky, and he wanted to tell you to only smile when you mean it. At the same time, he knew that you must have had your reasons for that fake smile. “Heh,” he chuckled, catching your attention.

“What?” you asked, and he shook his head, his eyes lingering on you. “Nothing, I just…” He paused and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his already messy blond hair around. “I wanted to apologize for my earlier comment again and-” you waved his words off.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you said as you walked down the sidewalk. “That’s the reaction most models who actually eat and are friendly get. We break the illusion society holds over us. That we’re perfect little porcelain dolls,” you explained before looking up at the sky again.

“Some of us are lucky enough to be broken porcelain dolls,” you joked, a bit of a dark joke at that but still you chuckled. As Taishiro followed you, he apologized to the few people he ran into and those who stepped around to avoid him.

“Is that right?” He replied before holding back his breath. “Well,” he reached over, laying his hand on your shoulder and making you pause. “Hm?” You turned, looking at him with curiosity and something about that expression made his heart leap.

“Uh,” for a moment he forgot what he wanted to say. “Oh!” He laughed. “As far as porcelain dolls go. I gotta say if I were the collector type, I’d buy a dozen of ya ‘cause I can’t get enough of your sweet self!” His comment made you snicker.

“Right,” you replied dryly and resumed walking, and he followed right behind you. “So, the party should be just about over by now,” you informed him. “Oh?” He smiled. He was happy he got to spend time with you instead of remaining at the party so there was no sadness in knowing it was over.

“Yeah,” you replied, trying not to let silence fill the space between the two of you. “So do you live far from here?” You asked. “Heh, I live back in good ol’ Esuha City,” you nodded. “Near your agency I assume. Good thinking,” you commented, “must be nice.”

“Well, city life ain’t for most. Truth be told, I’d be just as content livin’ in one of the rural areas. Of course, then I’d miss out on all the great food the city has to offer,” he said laughing. You smirked, “Yeah…the city has some excellent food,” enough to satisfy you anyway.

Glancing ahead, you could see the building where the party was being held. There were also a few people walking out and several cars pulling out onto the street. “So did you drive here?” you asked, ignoring the chill of the air against your cheeks, which were slowly turning red.

“Nah, I don’t do much drivin’. Heh, but I have a ride. Don’t ya be worryin’ about lil’ ol’ me now,” he teased, gently nudging you with his elbow. “Heh,” you chuckled and felt relieved when you were finally in front of the semi-empty building.

While your back was turned to it, you felt eyes on you, and you assumed said eyes belonged to Madam President. Somehow, she always kept tabs on you, and if not her, then someone close to her did. To put it simply, you were never actually alone.

Every move you made had to be calculated perfectly, but sometimes you didn’t care about the consequences of your actions, maybe that made you rebellious. You weren’t sure. However, most would advise against angering Madam President.

Despite this, you and your colleague made a game out of it. Come to think of it, it’s strange that Madam President didn't send him to do this job. Who knows, maybe she thought Taishiro would be more drawn to you? Regardless, you knew you would find out later.

“So, I guess this is goodnight. That dinner was delicious, we must do it again sometime,” you said, putting on your most optimistic smile. His face twisted with uncertainty and before you could react, he grabbed your hands and cradled them.

First, he put his hand over yours during dinner, and now this. “I’d like that, if ya don’t mind bein’ seen with a big fella like me again. Havin’ dinner or just spendin’ time with ya again would be a pleasure,” he said, smiling at you and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“Hmm,” Madam President’s eyes remained fixed on you and Taishiro. “What on Earth is going on…” she muttered, her words dripping with suspicion. “I’m sure everything is fine…” Yokumiru said, ignoring her glare. “I agree!” Keigo announced as he entered the room.

His feathery ash hair was slicked back, highlighting his yellow eyes adorned with triangular tattoos on the top corners and tear ducts. He wore a black and red suit that almost appeared to have some sort of shimmer to it, and he had a faint amount of stubble on his chin.

He smirked as he walked over and plopped onto the couch. “Takami…” Madam President growled but did not remove her eyes from you nor Taishiro. “Aw, come on there Madam President. I know I left my post early, but hey…it looks like you didn’t need hawk eyes on Y/n after all.”

Like you, Keigo often carried out Madam President’s orders which consisted mostly of keeping tabs on the others she sent out. Like a supervisor, but undetected. “I mean sure, I could have done the job just as well,” he stated, placing his hands behind his head.

He lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. “But Y/n has that certain genuine charm people seem to like, and besides Toyomitsu seemed pretty smitten with them, so didn’t think I needed to observe any longer,” he explained.

He could sense tension in the air. More than likely Madam President was angered because he technically disobeyed her order. However, no harm was done, and he wasn’t scared of what she might do. She had no one better than him, apart from you, that is.

“I hope to see ya again real soon, alright?” Taishiro squeezed your hands gently before releasing them, turning, and walking away. As you watched him disappear, you felt your hands tingle and a strange feeling of warmth wash over you.

But your moment was interrupted when you heard someone clear their throat. You sighed and turned to face her after shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “Madam President,” you replied nonchalantly. She crossed her arms. “Report,” she stated, and you sighed again.

“Right, straight to that, huh?” You replied, placing one hand on your hip. “He agreed to collaborate with our agency. There’s no changing his mind,” you said. “Ensure it remains that way,” she ordered before turning back toward the building and walking away.

“Suuuuuure,” you replied half-heartedly before placing your hand on your chest, feeling the unusual speedy pace of your heart. The last time you received physical affection and talked to someone who seemed genuinely interested in you instead of your career was a long time ago.

But Taishiro...the way he looked and spoke to you. Well, it was different than what you were used to. He was different than the others Madam President assigned you to butter up. “Mm…” you pressed a hand to your forehead.

“I must be going crazy. It’s been a long day,” you concluded, shrugging before you started toward the car that The Public Modeling Commission provided. When you approached, Untenmaru Kurumada stepped out.

He was an older man with short black hair styled up in the front and a white mustache with hints of black. On the length of his chin, white facial hair was also present. A black dress shirt and white tie complemented his dark-colored jacket that hugged his chest and waist.

Additionally, he always wore white driving gloves. Since Enji, the one he had an exclusive contract with, did not attend tonight’s event, he agreed to drive the models present because he made a living catering to models specifically.

“Hello Y/n!” he shouted enthusiastically as he opened the door. “Where are you headed!?” he asked, his voice high and loud. You replied, “I’ll head home, thank you,” and he nodded before closing the door, climbing into the driver’s seat, and starting the engine.

As the car pulled out onto the street, you looked at the black sky still adorned with those sparkling diamonds known as the stars. Then you looked down at your hands which lay motionless in your lap. You remembered Taishiro’s secure grip on them and yet again how he looked at you.

It was unlike the looks you got daily, there was just something about it that made you feel…strange. “Hm…” you knit your eyebrows. Untenmaru noticed the expression you were making when he gazed at the rearview mirror and frowned.

Despite knowing it wasn’t any of his business, he blurted out “Something wrong!?” His many years as a chauffeur gave him a great deal of insight into the challenges associated with the modeling industry, and the struggles models of your generation face.

He had known you for some time, and usually, you had a smile on your face. However, tonight it seemed someone or something had stolen it from you. Looking at him, you raised your eyebrows. Damn…shouldn't have given yourself away.

Taking a deep breath, you said, “Nothing. I’m just…I mean it’s just…” Drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, you tried to think. “I’m just worried about how well the collaboration with Toyomitsu will go. After all, this new division means a lot to The Public Modeling Commission,” you explained only to hear him huff in response.

“Is that all you kids think about!? There’s more to life than success! Even Mr. Todoroki knows that!” You hummed in response, and although he had a point, you knew he couldn’t tell that there was an enormous amount of guilt weighing your heart down.

When you think about it, Madam President would likely assign you or Keigo to show Taishiro the ropes before the big collaboration debut. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your pants. You could only imagine how chaotic that would be.

In addition, despite your best efforts to tell yourself this was only business, Taishiro Toyomitsu, made your stomach churn with butterflies which was an unusual and furthermore, unwanted reaction that you had to get under control before your next meeting with him.fau

#fat gum x reader #taishiro x you #taishiro x reader #fatgum x y/n #fatgum x reader #fatgum x you #bnha x self insert #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x male reader #bnha x fem!reader #faulty writes: taishiro toyomitsu: 23 #faulty writes: taishiro toyomitsu: one shot: 23 #faulty writes: taishiro toyomitsu: model au series

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rugtopper · 1 year ago

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Wedding Night Surprises

By Rugtopper

I have always been traditional or old fashioned by nature. For as long as I could remember growing up at the orphanage, all of us under Father Carmine's care and instruction were taught good principles, good ethics, and good deportment. For the few of us who were never adopted, some would rebel and veer from the path laid out by Father Carmine. I stayed the course. Once we reached our teen years, all the boys were expected to wear dress pants, shirts and ties, and shoes polished to high gloss every day. As such, we were required to also don certain undergarments. Some of the boys hated the mundane medallion or diamond patterned boxer shorts. The sleeveless undershirts, or tank tops, were somewhat popular among most. They were back in fashion again after an absence. The one thing that a lot of the young men hated were the sock garters. Father Carmine said that a proper gentleman never pulled up his socks in public. I didn't mind any of it. In fact, I really liked it. It made me feel like a grown up man instead of a teenage boy. Personally, I think he just liked seeing all of us dressed like that every morning as we got ready for school.

At one point Father Carmine thought I would follow him and take Holy Orders, but I didn't want to follow that strict path.

By law, at age 18, the state required me to leave the orphanage. For whatever reason, I was never adopted. Father Carmine helped me find a small room to rent a few blocks from the orphanage. I was allowed to continue to help out in the office at the orphanage. In truth, I was the de facto bookkeeper for the orphanage and the parish. I started night school to get a proper degree in accounting. That's when I met Julie.

Julie Hatfield was extraordinarily gorgeous, and yet painfully shy. Slowly, over the course of that first term of school I got to know her. I was shy to some extent, but I had also learned to be open enough as a kid in the likelihood I might get adopted. In short, we were both looking for someone to love. Less than a year later, we were dating on a regular basis. Despite our blatant differences in background, we found we had some things in common. She was rather old fashioned, as well. Unlike most young women, she wore skirts or dresses. I don't think I ever saw her in pants. She always had her hair beautifully styled. On our first real dinner date, I swear she wore an elegant little black dress, a string of simple pearls, with her hair in a French twist. I was so mesmerized I couldn't even say her name.

After two months of dating, I thought we were getting serious. I had casually brought up marriage. We had already talked about so many things. There were minor disagreements over silly issues, but on many principles we were of one mind in our views of things. This was beyond an issue of politics or religion, but rather an approach to many esthetics of life that most everyone of our generation hated or thoroughly dismissed.

One night when we were dining at our favorite restaurant, she said something that startled me. As we were eating our little dinner salads, she asked me if I was losing my hair. I had never been asked that before, much less seriously given it any thought.

"I don't think so," I told her. "Why do you ask?"

"It looks like you are receding a bit in the front. Plus, you are thinning in the back."

I was more interested in why she brought it up than in if it might be true or not. Over the next week she mentioned it a few more times. Finally, I confronted her about it. That's when we had our first real 'adult' conversation. We shared our interests. Nowadays, people call them kinks. Back then, you didn't talk about those things. Still it was enlightening, and even vulgarly titillating, to say the least.

I asked her why my hair was suddenly such an issue for her. She told me that she really hated bald men, and that she didn't want me to go bald. I told her that I didn't think there was a chance of that. That's when she brought up my empty history.

"You're an orphan, Bryan Murphy. You don't know who your parents are. You don't know if your maternal grandfather was totally bald or anything. I couldn't live with a bald man. I just couldn't. I know it sounds silly."

"But, Julie, I'm not losing my hair at all. Yes, it's receding a bit like you said, but it's nothing drastic."

"I just couldn't stand it. That's all."

"What would you want me to do, get a hairpiece?"

She got this odd look on her face.

"Would you? For me?" She asked, almost childlike.

"What?" I retorted.

"Would you get a hairpiece? I mean, you are slowly losing your hair as it is. If you got a hairpiece now, no one would know."

"Julie, if I get a hairpiece, I would be bald underneath it. Wouldn't that bother you? I mean, eventually we are going to get married. We have decided to wait until our wedding night to make love. Won't it upset you when I take it off that first time?"

"That's different, Bryan."

"How is that different, Julie? You just said how much you hate bald men. Would you hate me?"

"No, Bryan. I love you. It's just that . . ."

"Well. It's just what? You say you love me but hate bald men, yet you want me to be bald. I don't understand."

"Neither do I, to tell the truth."

"Okay. Now, I'm confused."

"I really can't explain it. With all the little quirks we have shared, I left one out. I have this really odd bent for men who wear rugs."

I laughed. She got upset.

"I'm sorry. Don't be mad, Julie. I'm sorry. So, let me get this straight, a man in a cheap toupee makes you hot?"

"Yes."

"I guess it makes him hot, too." I sarcastically said. She just gave me this certain smirk I had grown accustomed to over the months I had known her.

"I'm sorry, Julie."

"Just forget it. You said you wanted to know."

"Would you really want me to do that? Would it make you happy?"

"Yes. Would you really do it for me? I mean, would you put yourself through that?"

"I have never known of someone doing something like that for someone else. I mean, yes, people have done other things for someone they love, but this is really unusual. I don't even know a barber who could help me."

Suddenly she had this look on her face.

"You know someone, don't you?" I asked her. "You have been planning this haven't you?"

"No, not really, but I have a third cousin who owns a little old fashioned barbershop about forty miles from here. I think if I talked to him, he would do it without any questions."

"Do you know how much those things cost, especially over the years? I will be 20 in a month. My job doesn't pay much and then there is school tuition, I couldn't afford the added expense."

"Let me talk to Ronnie. I'll tell him your situation and what I want. He's a nice guy and a highly respected barber. Do you know that he is the mayor's barber?"

Mayor Llewellyn was the nicest man you would ever want to meet with a blatantly obvious pewter toupee perched on his head.

I swallowed and said, "if that's what you want, sure."

Little did I know just how traditional and old-fashioned I was about to be.

Ronnie Blevins was a bit of a throwback. When I got to his shop, he was sitting in this huge red leather and chrome barber's chair reading a magazine. He was wearing a white barber's smock over his husky frame. He looked like so many of those guys who had once played football, but had just let things go since graduation. The top of his head was this flat cocoa brown, wavy hairpiece in an early 1980s brushed back style. The sides and back were not the same shade of brown and quite sparser with some gray in it.

"You must be Bryan. I'm Ronnie. Julie has told me all about you," Ronnie said as he got up and shook my hair. "Have a seat," he gestured.

"So, you've spoken with Julie? You know why I'm here."

"It's okay, Bryan. Julie and I are third cousins, but she and I are very close. She is like one of my sisters. I have three."

"Must be nice. I guess Julie told you that I'm an orphan."

"Yes, but I know it hasn't stopped you in any way. Julie has told me how you graduated in the top ten percent of your class in high school, and how you're working your way through college at night. Now, let's get down to business. I can tell you have some receding in front and thinning in the crown." Ronnie said this as he took a comb out of his smock and started combing through my hair.

"I really don't think I need a hairpiece, Ronnie. I think Julie is overreacting."

"I didn't think I did either, Bryan. Still after every Friday night game, I'd find more and more hair in the drain. Finally I couldn't handle it. When I messed up my knee during the last game of the season I knew college ball, and any other kind of sports, was no longer a part of my future. I went to barber school, and came to work for my dad here. A year later he had a stroke and died."

"I'm sorry to hear that. At least you had that time with him."

"Julie has given me some instructions. Do you trust her? Do you trust me?"

"Well . . . I love her. That's what's important. If this is what she wants, I can't say no. In all the time we have known each other, she has never asked anything of me."

"Okay then. Let's get started."

Ronnie grabbed some clippers and slowly began to remove the hair on the top of my head. As he did it, I could suddenly see just how much of my scalp was starting to show. Maybe I was losing my hair and was just in denial.

Ronnie made several passes from the front of my head to the top of my occipital bone. Pass after pass, I looked more and more like a forty year old man, as opposed to a twenty year old man.

When Ronnie put down those clippers, the hair on the top of my head was so short and sparse that I couldn't even see them in the mirror across from me.

Ronnie picked up a small orange tube and put some pale opalescence cream on my scalp. It was very thick and quite cold. He began to spread it over the newly shaved area. As he massaged the cream into my scalp, it began to get warmer and warmer. When he finished, he washed his hands and rolled a small heat lamp over to the barber's chair. The lamp was even warmer than the cream, but it never seemed to burn. The longer that heat lamp was on, the cream changed from the opalescence shade to totally clear. Once the cream was completely clear, it suddenly began to shine and almost glow. When that happened, Ronnie turned off the lamp. He had me move to a sink in the corner where he rinsed off the loose hair and the cream.

When I sat back down in the huge barber's chair, Ronnie removed the hand towel that was my head. I made a slight gasp. I was so incredibly bald. I had this small ring of hair around the sides and back of my head.

Ronnie left me staring at my pasty scalp. He came back a moment later with an old leather wig stand with a hairpiece pinned to it. It was a much lighter shade of brown than the hair that had been on the top of my head.

"Let's get to work helping you to look like the young man that Julie wants to marry," Ronnie said as he took the hairpiece off the stand. He put tape around the perimeter. I watched how he only used four pieces of tape. Each was specifically designed for certain places. Two pieces were shaped like parentheses for the front and back. The other two were straighter for the sides. He put the toupee on my bald head. I felt the tape adhere at all four places. More importantly, I saw the sudden transformation of my overall appearance. Ronnie began combining the piece on the back and sides. With scissors, he trimmed the longer tendrils. There was a left-sided part already established. It was very stark. He gently combed the front of the toupee. It looked like it was swept up off my forehead. It was the same style the mayor had, as well as several other prominent men around town. I was torn between embarrassment and delight. I was too busy marveling at what was on my head to fully grasp the artificiality of it. Finally, I looked at Ronnie via the mirror and asked him, "how much does this cost?"

"Usually I charge $50, but this first one is like a wedding gift. I know that money is tight for you. A lot of men are like you. They don't want to be bald, but they can't afford the very expensive human hairpieces that are on the market."

"But I'm not really bald. You just made me temporarily bald for the toupee to please Julie. Didn't you?"

"Well, yes, Bryan. But, that cream I used is a high acting formula depilatory. With the heat lamp, it kills the hair follicle for up to six weeks. After I used it for six months, my hair never grew back. Neither will yours."

"You mean I'm . . . bald?"

"Technically, yes, but you have a great toupee, Bryan. This is what Julie picked out for you."

I drove back home, a completely new man. A week later, Julie and I had planned to go to a fundraiser for the mayor's upcoming campaign. I wore a retro 1950s tuxedo that was midnight blue. Julie wore an emerald cocktail dress that matched her eyes perfectly.

The entire evening, I was so self-conscious. I thought everyone in the room was staring at my new hair. In truth they were. It didn't help that I seemed to be acutely aware of the microscopic space between my bald scalp and the quite noticeable toupee taped to it. Strangely, it wasn't uncomfortable or itchy. I just felt like I was the center of attention. I had realized before I left Ronnie's shop that the hairpiece was rather thick and full. When Julie and I were introduced to the mayor and his wife, his eyes immediately drifted upwards to my upswept, hard hairline, and he smiled. Later on after he had finished greeting his guests, he made his way to our table. He asked if he could have a private word with me in the lobby of the hotel where the fundraiser was being held.

"Young man, I hear you managed to survive 18 years under Father Carmine's tutelage at the orphanage."

I was rather taken back. I hadn't expected that opening gambit.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Mayor. I guess no one was willing to take me on, sir."

"How old are you, son?"

"I'll be 20 in a few weeks, sir."

He moved a little closer to me and dropped his voice. "It looks like Ronnie did an excellent job on your hair, son. His Dad helped me out with my problem when I was about your age. Trust me, I know how tough it can be."

"Thank you, sir," was about all I could say.

"Be proud of it. There's nothing to be self-conscious about or embarrassed by. It is far better than the hidden reality. Am I right?"

A soft "yes sir" was all I could muster.

"Father Carmine tells me you have been his bookkeeper since you were a teen. I could use someone like you in my office. A raise in salary certainly would help you and Julie get started in life. Come by my office on Thursday. We'll talk. I'll go talk to Father Carmine a little later and see if I can steal you away from him."

With that, the mayor walked back into the banquet hall as Julie was walking out.

"What did he want, Bryan?" Julie asked as she got closer to me.

"He wanted to offer me a job!"

She looked up at my rug and asked, "did he mention your hairpiece?"

"He just told me that he thought your cousin Ronnie did an excellent job."

"See? I knew it might help you in more ways than you thought. With this new job, maybe we can get married."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Of course. I don't want a big wedding. You don't have any family. I only have Ronnie and his three sisters. We could get married tomorrow afternoon at the courthouse if we wanted."

"Wait? I thought you wanted a very traditional church wedding. Don't most women want that?"

"Well, I'd love it, but I can't afford it; we can't afford it. I'd love for Ronnie to walk me down the aisle, and his youngest sister be my flower girl, and his other sisters be my bridesmaids. I'd want to see you standing there at the altar beside Father Carmine looking so handsome and mature with your . . . Never mind."

I whispered, "you mean my new hair?"

"Yes, Bryan."

"Do you really like it? I feel a bit awkward. Still after Ronnie's and the mayor's little pep talks, I do feel a lot more comfortable. Wait here just a moment. I have an idea."

I left Julie standing perplexed in the hotel lobby. I went back to the banquet hall and found Father Carmine. He just finished talking with the mayor.

"So, Bryan, the mayor says he wants to hire you away from me to work with his campaign. Is that what you would like?"

"Possibly, Father, but that's not what I wanted to ask you. Julie and I want to get married properly in church with you officiating. The trouble is, we can't afford it."

"Bryan, why don't you let me give you the wedding as a gift? I've known you since you were nine days old. You are the closest thing I'll ever have to a son. Let it be my wedding present."

I guess the look of surprise on my face was a bit over the top. I felt the toupee tape slightly lift in the front. If Father Carmine noticed, he didn't say anything. Of course, he hadn't said anything to me all night about my hair. Maybe he hadn't noticed. I hope he has not. Alas, his eyes drifted upwards and then back down. He only smiled and walked away.

I went back to Julie and told her the good news. She cried and kissed me, and then she felt the back of my head at the occipital bone where my toupee was taped. She only lightly touched it, but didn't pull it.

"You look so handsome and mature," she whispered. "Thank you for doing that for me."

No wedding had ever come together so quickly in our community. Everyone at the parish helped out. Two of the nuns worked all week transforming Ronnie's mother's wedding gown to fit Julie.

We were married the next Saturday at St. Michael's.

The honeymoon was two nights at an Inn three blocks from Ronnie's barbershop. That was a gift from Ronnie's older sisters.

After I carried Julie across the threshold, I walked back to the hall and got our two suitcases. I closed the door and we looked at each other.

"So, I guess this is the magic moment," I said.

We had that little talk a few months ago," she began. "Are we ready?"

I nodded in the affirmative.

We both began to undress.

We had changed from our wedding clothes into more traditional attire. She was wearing a pale blue dress with a square neck. I was wearing a dark navy suit.

I took off my coat for her. My crisp white shirt was tightly tucked into my trousers. You could clearly see my undershirt through the dress shirt. I loosened and removed my tie.

She reached up and unclasped the top of her dress. She turned around and indicated for me to unzip it. She let it fall to the floor. She was wearing an ivory slip. She reached up and slid the straps off her shoulders letting the slip fall on top of her dress. She stepped out of it and turned to face me. She was standing there in her bra. Clearly, it contained more than just what nature had given her. She had told me that. It wasn't vulgar and pointy like Jayne Mansfield, but it did evoke a certain Jane Russell flair. Her open bottom girdle with garters and stockings sent shivers up my spine and a tingle in my trousers. She stepped forward and unbuttoned my shirt revealing the straps and scoop of my classic ribbed undershirt. She then undid my belt. I knew what was about to happen. She unbuttoned my pants and unzipped my fly. My trousers fell to my ankles. I was wearing the white boxer shorts with pink roses and red hearts that she had sent to me that morning. I stood there with my matching navy socks and double-grip pink garters. I started to reach up to remove my toupee. She stopped me. She sat on the edge of the bed and unfastened her garters. She slowly removed her stockings. Then she got up, turned around for me to unhook her bra. Her breasts were almost non-existent, but I never said anything. I was too aroused to speak. I was also nervous. I must have been perspiring. I leaned in to kiss her. I could tell my toupee tape was slightly loose. I leaned up and put my hands up to remove it as I had done on my own every night since I had gotten it. She sensuously slid off her girdle. She helped me as I took off my toupee. She gasped as we connected and completed our union. We felt old and young, ugly and beautiful, exposed and yet complete.

The End.

#cheap toupee #hair replacement for men #voluntary bald fringe #toupee for men #male transformation #wifebeater #a-shirt #tank top #boxer shorts #traditional #sock garters #becoming traditional #men's sock garters #men's tank tops #undershirtline

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singular-yike · 1 year ago

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Getting into Len'en Lore: Part 1

Cause I mean there's a lot of it, isn't there?

With the 10th anniversary coming up I thought it might be nice to share my personal recommended reading order(?) for all the Len'en material, for people who really want to dig into the lore.

Of course, I'm sure most folks reading this are already neck-deep into the lore swamp but hey, on the off chance that it reaches someone new, right?

Getting the information in English

To start off, you'd either have to learn Japanese, or find a good translation for the series and its associated materials. Here I'll go with English, since it's, well what I'm writing in.

The Len'en wiki, for 99% of all cases, will absolutely be where you want to go to read up on the lore and translation of Japanese material.

All of the translations on the wiki have been diligently worked on by me and other brilliant translators, and even now we revisit old translations to polish them up, so I guarantee it's quality (I suppose there's no reason to trust me, but I do promise).

Now the wiki also has links to English patches for all 4 of the shmup games, if you'd prefer to read the dialogue in-game, though I must note that they won't be the most updated version of the dialogue, and have further paraphrasing to trim things down to fit textboxes.

Still, they're more than enough for getting a basic understanding of the plot, and the visual elements of the game are not to be missed out on, so do give the games a go!

The Reading List

Now that the preamble is over with, let's actually get into my recommended order for lore-exploration. Forewarning: It's a lot, so brace yourself for some good old reading.

Major Entries in Release Order

The first place to start is of course each of the series entries in release order, though there are some curiosities about how this series tells its story through changes to the games itself, so I'll walk you through those as well.

These are separated into "story reading order" and "additional reading", the first ones are pretty much necessary to, well, understand the story.

Additional reading, on the other hand, are not as crucial to grasping the story, and will be ordered from most important to least.

They often contain little tidbits of lore tucked within, and are fun reads perhaps only for fans of JynX writing or those who really want to dig deep.

Game 1: Evanescent Existence

We of course start with the first game in the series, Len'en Mugenri ~ Evanescent Existence (often abbreviated as EE in English).

Story Reading Order

Prologue

Yabusame Houlen's story — Main Story → Bad Ending → Good Ending → Extra Story

Tsubakura Enraku's story — Main Story → Bad Ending → Good Ending → Extra Story

Official Profiles

Additional Reading

Music Room Comments

Spell Cards

Documentation Pages — omake.txt, manual.txt, readme.txt, readme.txt (trial ver.)

Note: Bad Endings Bad endings are non-canon in all of the games, in the sense that the events depicted within haven't actually occurred. They're still very useful to read as "what-if" scenarios though, since they actually provide a lot of interesting information.

Game 2: Earthen Miraculous Sword

Moving onto game #2, simple enough. Here's Len'en Tasouken ~ Earthen Miraculous Sword (abbr. EMS).

Story Reading Order

Prologue

Main Story (Any character order is fine) — Yabusame Houlen: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B — Tsubakura Enraku: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B — Kuroji Shitodo: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B

Extra Prologue

Extra Story (Any character order is fine) — Yabusame Houlen, Tsubakura Enraku, Kuroji Shitodo

Official Profiles

Note: Good Endings A and B The two endings differ only in a single textbox at the very end, so no need to read it twice, just jump to the very end to see the difference. Or honestly, since it doesn't affect the story at all, you're free to just read either one and be done with it.

Additional Reading

Music Room Comments

Spell Cards

Documentation Pages — omake.txt, manual.txt, readme.txt & readme.txt (trial ver.)

Note: On the EMS Documentation Pages EE and EMS were actually released at the same time, as a result some files are unnecessary to read. ・omake.txt: Only different in the game title ・readme.txt files: Identical in every way in the trial version The manual and readme files are however different, so give them a glace if you'd please.

Game 3: Reactivate Majestical Imperial

Onto the 3rd entry: Len'en Reiretsuden ~ Reactivate Majestical Imperial (abbr. RMI). This game first introduces the team system, so each story features 2 playable characters.

Story Reading Order

Prologue

Main Story (Any team order is fine) — Shrine: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B — Bottle Opener: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B — Slaver: Story → Bad Ending → Good Endings A & B

Extra Prologue

Extra Story (Any team order is fine) — Shrine, Bottle Opener, Slaver

Official Profiles

Note: Good Endings A & B This time, the two endings have more differences, stemming from a slightly different outcome of the main scenario. So I'd personally recommend giving both a read. Though to be fair there's no functional difference between the two in terms out final outcome. So I wouldn't say that you must read both to understand the plot or anything.

Additional Reading

Music Room Comments

Spell Cards

Documentation Pages — manual.txt & readme.txt

★ Len'en Kanji Change

It is while working on the next entry of the series that JynX decided to change the kanji "Len'en" is written with, from 鏈縁 to 連縁, changing the first character, as you can see above.

There's actually quite a bit to read about this, though since it doesn't relate to the story, I'll just mention that this happened for now, more on this later. Onto the next game!

End of Part 1

This actually got so long that I couldn't fit it all in one post, so let's end things here and move onto part 2!

#len'en project #len'en #len'en lore

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ohmystaxk · 2 years ago

Text

Goodbye, My Dear Stranger (2)

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Pairing(s): (Jake Lockley x Reader) (Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader later on) [Pre-Moon Knight show]

Chapter Character(s): Steven Grant.

Content/Tags: Reader having creep tendencies, somewhat of a date (?).

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: After meeting Jake, you decided to go to the Museum with a friend. There you meet someone that looks like Jake, but isn't him?

Two days had passed since the night you had met Jake at the café. Unfortunately for you, he had not come back again. Truthfully, you didn’t expect him to. Yes, you had hoped he would come by, order himself the same coffee he had last time and ask how your day was. Perhaps he would check up on you and ask if you had encountered the same guys from last night again. You hadn’t. Perhaps Jake’s little play pretend had worked.

Even when you wanted an interaction with the man, something told you it would not happen again. At least not anytime soon. He seemed rather reserved, since he had barely spoken to you. But then again, he seemed like a lonesome kind of guy. Yet another thing he seemed to share with your elusive neighbor.

That night, when you got home, you noticed no lamps were on at your neighbor’s apartment. The following days had been just the same. You started to think that perhaps he had pieced the puzzle together and realized it wasn’t the first time you were a creep that spied on him. Just the thought made your insides turn and your palms sweaty. Young adult spies on their older neighbor. You could see the headlines in your head.

“You there?” You blinked a couple of times. A face appeared in your field of view, accompanied by a waving hand. It was Deanna.

“Sorry, what?” You asked her and she tilted her head to the side.

“You were gone for a second there. You alright?” She placed her bag on the bench next to you. Deanna turned her body towards you as she sat down on your left.

“I was just thinking. Did you say something?” Deanna nodded with a short sigh.

“Sure did. I’d like to go down to the gift shop if you don’t mind. We can also go down to The Green Wall, see if Martha will get us something to eat after we are done here, yeah?”

Today you hadn’t worked at The Green Wall, the name of the coffee shop. And so, Deanna had asked to go to the Museum down the street from the shop. Neither of you had even been there and wanted to check out the new exhibit they’d been advertising with massive banners outside the building. The concept seemed fun and it wasn’t like you often went to those kinds of places.

The two of you wandered and looked around for about an hour and half. The place was beautiful, tall white walls, some ceilings had skylights allowing for better visibility, and the floor had polished marble tile on the main area. They had a lot of Egyptian artifacts and replicas, paintings, and displays that showed videos of reconstruction of what Egypt could possibly have looked like back in its glory days. It was nice to go out and do something differently than going home and working on your laptop, or watching shows for hours.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You answered. “I might get something from the gift shop too.” Deanna nodded with a smile.

“I saw some cute plushies on our way in. Come on.” She stood up and you followed.

The two of you made your way to the gift shop as Deanna showed you some of the pictures she’d taken when exploring the place. They all looked good and she was trying to decide which ones to post on social media, debating between two pictures that looked the exact same.

So when you walked in, you both were staring at her phone. You pointed at one that had a replica of The Great Pyramid of Giza, the angle and the lighting worked great. When Deanna got herself entranced by her phone, you decided to take a look around, the first thing in front of you was a rotating metal display with postcards.

Most of the pictures were of Egypt, others of the Museum, and a couple of London. You took one in your hands, the photo had the pyramids with a low sunset in the background. It was beautiful. You looked at the rest of the photocards that might catch your attention, it was a voice that caught it instead. You looked through the display and towards the check-out counter.

At the register was none other than Jake. No hat and no low lighting to obstruct his face from the world. You felt your gut flutter with sudden surprise, and reached for Deanna who was still on her phone.

“What?” She looked at you when you tapped her arm.

“It’s him.” You simply said, your eyes wide. You felt your cheeks flush as you looked towards Jake who was with another client at the moment.

“Who is it? Is it the guy from the bad date?” She asked with interest.

“No, the guy from Green Wall.” Deanna’s eyes widened with disbelief.

“One of the fucking dickheads?” You looked at her with a frown.

“What? No. The one that helped me. His name is Jake.” Her expression softened.

“Oh so that’s the lad, yeah? He seems pretty nice and all. Won’t you go and say hello, then?” Deanna shoved you gently, an encouraging smile on her face.

“You know I can’t.”

“Of course you can, love. The man over there doesn’t look like he bites, go on then.” You sighed and tightened your grip on the postcard.

You started walking towards the counter once the clients had left. Your hands grabbed three things at random and made your way towards him.

Once in front of him, he looked up at you. He had a friendly smile on, it seemed genuine and that eased your nerves. In reality, he had a rather pretty smile; warm and inviting.

“Hello there, you found everything?” He said and then you frowned. You remembered him having an accent, just not an English one.

“Y-yeah.” You then placed the items on the counter, not looking at them.

He nodded and started scanning. He looked at you through his lashes. His eyes were soft, not deep or distant like last time. There were eyebags under his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and he had a shadow of a beard. He looked completely different from that night. A hot mess you would dare to say.

“Did you enjoy the tour?” He spoke and you blinked.

“We didn’t take the tour, we just explored by ourselves.” He nodded and placed your items in a bag.

“What were your thoughts? Having, well, not much to go on from.” He then leaned forward just a little, like he was about to hear a secret.

“I liked it. I’d rather do things at my own pace. That way I get to enjoy things and take the moment all in.” He seemed to light up as you said that, a smile formed on his lips again. He had very nice lips.

“That’s good to hear. I hadn’t thought about it that way, you know, the whole no-tour thing.” Yes, Jake didn’t have an English accent. It was then that your eyes fell on his name tag, ‘Steven’.

“You should try it, it’s always nice if you enjoy doing things by yourself.” He nodded again, and he stared at you for a couple of seconds.

“I will. It seems fun. Not like I don’t already do it.” He smiled, he liked to smile, and not forcefully. It was something different. Steven was different. And you liked that. The man was attractive despite his current state.

“Would you like to go out for coffee or something later?” You felt the air leave your lungs the second you uttered those words.

This wasn’t like you. You would never ask a complete stranger out for coffee, or for anything really.

“Sorry?” He seemed just as shocked as you were with a slight tint on his cheek. You opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish.

“I’m sorry, I don't know why I said that. That was so inappropriate, I’m really sorry.” You pull out your wallet and look at the register, the total displayed for you. You placed the amount on the counter.

“No, it’s just. I wasn’t expecting that. Has never happened to me before.” He confessed to you, he seemed genuinely surprised and that made you feel less guilty of pretty much having thrown yourself at him.

“I have never done that, if that helps.” You gave him your name, he smiled and said it out loud. It sounded nice coming from him, you realized.

“Steven.” He pointed at his name tag. “I would love coffee. Tea preferably, I have to admit.”

“Right, well, there’s a coffee shop right down the street by the plaza on main. It’s called The Green Wall.”

“Oh, I know that place! I go there sometimes before work, their tea is truly something else.” His smile got bigger, showing his teeth.

“Well, what about tomorrow? Seven p.m.?” When you asked he nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s a date.” He said and then his smile dropped. “Is it?”

“Sure.” You gave him a smile and he handed you the bag.

“Well then, see you tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You offered him one last smile before slowly turning away. He had smiled before, yet it didn’t seem to compete with how giddy he looked as he smiled at you.

You waited outside the gift shop for Deanna to finish browsing. Every so often, you would stare back into the place to see Steven, taking the time into paying attention to his mannerisms, the way he would emote. You felt like a freaking stalker, but it was impossible for two people to look that alike, right? Your only interaction with Jake had been brief. But, even then, you could tell he was nothing like Steven, and Steven seemed nothing like Jake. Two polar opposites in the same city, in very close proximity to each other.

Jake had mentioned going back to work. You recalled his attire. Either the man liked dressing like somebody's old grandfather who drove cabs for a living, or he actually was a cab driver and dressed as such. Then, there was Steven, a very tired-looking gift shop employee at a Museum. Neither of them seem like the owners of a big flat in downtown London. Unless they had other jobs, just like you did in order to provide for your way-too-small flat. Perhaps, the two were twins and were raised differently, Jake coming from overseas and staying at Steven’s.

Once you and Deanna had made it to Green Wall, it was already night time. You had been shopping around the plaza and getting coffee was the last stop for the night. The two of you said hello to Martha and Rose, the ones working today’s closing shift. The Green Wall ended up getting busy today, people came and went as there weren't many empty seats. Luckily Deanna had snatched a table the second a couple had left.

The door swung after a few minutes and eyes shifted towards the noise it made, more of a reflex than sheer curiosity. Steven had wandered in, his eyes looked at the busy place as he tried to make his way inside. He stood by the register as Martha was taking another order, he fidgeted with the strap of his bag, his shoulders were upwards and closer to his jaw, and his eyes gazed around, as if to busy himself. Steven looked nervous, perhaps even overwhelmed.

“Isn’t that tomorrow’s date?” Deanna spoke from beside you.

“Yeah. His name is Steven.” She frowned at your response.

“Wasn't it Jake?” You shook your head.

“I think Jake and Steven are brothers.”

“Then why ask him out?” You shrugged.

“He seems nice enough. That, and he’s cute.” Deanna shoved you playfully as she pointed at Steven with her chin. You got the message and stood up, making your way towards the man.

Once the two of you were at a good distance, she spoke up gently, not wanting to startle him.

“Hey there, stranger.” Steven turned to look around, his gaze landed on you.

“Hey, a bit busy, innit?” You nodded.

“More than usual. Probably has to do with that new exhibit of yours.” He frowned, tilting his head in confusion. “The museum.”

“Oh, right! Yeah, of course.” He slapped his forehead playfully, looking around. “At least there’s good business today. Place deserves it.” Steven looked back at you.

“Thanks. We work very hard to make everything as good and fresh as possible.”

“Do you own the place?” His eyes widened. You laughed, slapping his shoulder gently.

“No, no. I work here, just not today as you can see.” Steven nodded slowly as you spoke, his mouth forming an ‘O’ as he let out a quick laugh. “Do you want to sit down with me? While you wait, in case you have somewhere else to be.”

“Only place would be my flat, I think Gus can wait a bit.” Steven said and you raised an eyebrow. “My goldfish, he has one fin.”

“Like Nemo?” Steven laughed at that. A hearty laugh that showed you his teeth.

“Just like him, little fella is very special to me.” You couldn’t help but laugh back.

“I bet he’s one lucky little guy.” Steven stared at you again, he seemed to do that a lot. You were not used to it. Then, his eyes softened and creased at the corners as he smiled. He had pretty lashes, long and thick, his eyes doe-like as the warm lighting shined on them.

The sound from the music on the speakers faintly seeped through your ears as time went by.

Take me out tonight

Where there’s music and there’s people

And they’re young and alive

“Yeah, he is.”

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

“Are you two ready to order?” Rose spoke suddenly. The two of you turned towards her. From the way she grinned at the two of you, you knew she was having a laugh. You rolled your eyes at her.

Because I haven’t got one

Anymore

“I’ll go and sit down.” You placed a hand on his back gently before walking towards the table you were sharing with Deanna.

Deanna eyed you with a smirk once you sat down. “What was that?”

Driving in your car

Oh, please don’t drop me home

“Rose decided to interrupt us.” You responded.

“I know she did. Poor lad had heart eyes and all of that.” Deanna started gathering her things. You raised an eyebrow at her and she scoffed. “You’ll need another chair, unless the man offers his lap for you.”

“Thank you, Deanna. Let me know when you get home.” The woman bent down gave you a quick hug. You hugged her back.

Because it’s not my home, it’s their home

And I’m welcome no more

“Sure thing. Don’t forget to tell me how things go, yeah?” You nodded at her, she waved at you as she left your table. She walked through the dining area, waved goodbye at Martha and Rose, then she left the shop.

Steven came back a few minutes later. He smiled nervously as he gestured at the now empty seat. You nodded at him.

“Did your friend leave already?” He asked as he sat down, placing his bag on his lap. He looked around one more time.

“Do crowded spaces make you anxious?” You asked him with curiosity as you took a sip of your drink.

“No. It’s just that I’ve never stayed long enough to take a good look at the place.” He was still looking around, his eyes filled with awe.

“You seem to like it.” You placed your drink down. Once again, his eyes found yours.

“I do. It’s rather pretty here, and it feels cozy.” He admitted to you with a sheepish smile.

“I think so too, but this isn’t better than the museum.” When you said that, you had said it in a playful way. However, he shook his head with a frown.

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

“The museum? No, no. I love the museum, yes. But the employees are much nicer here, I have to admit.” When he said that last sentence, he grinned at you and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Don’t think that’ll get you a free drink, sir. Are your coworkers not nice?”

“Most are, some barely notice me. Then there’s my boss Donna who makes me stay overnight almost every night, she also calls me Stephen.” He gave you a tight smile, his eyes shifted to your hands when your fingers rubbed the side of your drink in a distracted manner.

“You can always stop by and fill out a job application.” You offered.

“No, no, it would be a mistake to hire me here. I would end up setting the place on fire somehow.” The two of you laughed. The conversations around you seemed to dissipate as you both kept on talking.

Take me anywhere, I don’t care

I don’t care, I don’t care

“Well, I think you would make a great barista, you just haven’t tried.” As soon as you said that, you heard Martha call out an order, to which Steven turned around immediately.

“That’s mine. I’ll be right back” Steven got up from his chair, placing his bag down on the chair and walked towards the counter.

Steven behaved like he was dreading something would inconvenience him along the way. His shoulders held tension while he dug around one of his front pockets. As he received his drink, you saw Martha smile at him and he gave her a quick nod. You didn’t know if he smiled back, but the slight quirk on his lip as he turned around to walk back towards you, told you he might’ve.

And in the darkened underpass

I thought oh, God, my chance has come at last

The soft light of the café showered him. Brown skin glowing a honey gold, soft messy curls that seemed chocolate brown instead of black, and full lips with a hint of pink. His clothes, loose and big, hid his frame under layers of funky prints and fabric.

By the time he returned, the tension on his body was gone. His long lashes shined under the light and his eyes seemed to twinkle when he smiled nervously at you.

“Everything alright?” He spoke, taking his seat once again.

But then a strange fear gripped me

And I just couldn’t ask

Then it hit you.

This was the man who you’d been spying on for the past month. The man who you would unconsciously await to see turn on his light at night, and then you’d watch him read by the table. Unbeknownst to him, you had formed a routine around his schedule, a parasocial behavior with a man you’d never met before. Something a creep would do. Something you did.

You couldn’t talk to him. You couldn’t get to know him.

“Yeah, sorry.” You grabbed your bag. “It was nice having a little chat, Steven. I have to go now. I was out all day and I have to work tomorrow.”

“No worries. Do you want me to walk you to the tube, or to a cab maybe?” He was about to stand up, but you shook your head.

“It 's alright. The stop is not that far from here. And you just got here. Enjoy your night, Steven.” You stood up and felt your heart tighten when Steven spoke.

“Thank you, love. Be safe on your way home, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow?” He was smiling so warmly at you.

“I’m afraid tomorrow will be just as busy. Maybe another day. I’m sorry.” Steven shook his head this time.

“Don’t be. I understand now that I see how packed it gets in here. I hope we get to know each other more another day. Stay safe.”

Oh, there is a light that never goes out

There is a light that never goes out

“Goodbye, Steven.”

That night when you got home, you moved your workspace away from the window and back to your bedroom. From the gap between the drapes, you saw a light turn on from his apartment. You pulled the fabric shut.

Add yourself to the taglist!

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#jake lockely x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #fanfic #oscar isaac #goodbye my dear stranger

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