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peaches2217 · 11 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 · 6 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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shakespearefreak · 1 month ago

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🐍🧨🧧🏮 Happy Lunar New Year from Corrine! 🏮🧧🧨🐍

Earlier this week, Corrine did some cleaning 🧽🗑️✨ (with a little help from Flurry!) in preparation for Lunar New Year. (I just did a deep clean of my apartment a couple weeks ago—I usually combine taking down my holiday decorations with a really thorough cleaning—so pretty much all I did for my part was vacuuming.) We celebrated the holiday itself by staying up late 🥱, ordering Chinese takeout 🥡, and watching Turning Red (2022) 🎥. (I’d also originally hoped to set off fireworks 🧨 with a friend, but getting Covid kinda put a damper on those plans. 😕 At least dolls can’t catch it! 😆)

Marley had suggested listening to music while cleaning to make it more fun, so Corrine decided to try it. She hummed along while she swept, dusted, scrubbed, and polished until she felt her arms would fall off. Even Flurry “helped”—she was so eager to assist, she kept getting in the way, so Corrine finally gave her a full trash bag and directed her to carry it across the room. When Flurry paraded around with the bag in her teeth, so proud to be useful, Corrine couldn’t help but laugh despite how tired she was.

Finally everything was done! Corrine stood up and wiped her hot brow as she surveyed the room. “Whew! That was a lot of work! But you were right, Marley, the music helped!”

They hung the lanterns and Corrine donned her new red dress, bought specifically for the occasion. And then it was time to celebrate!

While they ate their mushroom pork (they both used chopsticks for most of the meal, though Marley had to switch to a spoon to get the last of their rice), Marley got the movie started.

“So what’s this about?” Corrine asked.

“It’s…” Marley paused and thought, before continuing with a grin, “...interesting. You should just watch it and see!”

“Not even a little spoiler?” Corrine wheedled.

“Nope!” Marley said, and Corrine sat back, pretending to pout.

“This is set back in the early 2000s, right?” Corrine asked. “So you were right around their age then?”

Marley thought about it. “No, I think—wait, no, actually, you might be right!” They did some quick mental math. “Oh, wow! I would have been 13 in 2002, exactly the same age as Meilin!” They shook their head, bemused. “It’s been… a while…”

After dinner, Corrine looked inside her hóngbao envelope to find five crisp $1 bills, and they both cracked open their fortune cookies. Marley was surprised—and a little concerned—to discover their cookie was empty!

“That’s never happened to me before!” They looked at Corrine. “Do you think it’s a bad omen?”

Corrine shook her head. “The way I’ve heard it, it’s actually a good thing! It either means that you’re owed a fortune, so something good is going to happen to you soon, or that your future is a blank slate and you can create your own destiny.”

“How about you?” Marley asked. “What did you get?”

Corrine looked at the slip of paper from her own cookie. “‘If you feel you are right, stand firmly by your convictions,’” she read aloud.

“That feels… really relevant to today’s political climate, actually,” Marley said. “It’s an important reminder to stand up for what’s right, even when it feels like the world is against you.”

(NOTE: I did a LOT of work for that tiny little fortune! First, I ordered some AG brand fortune cookies from eBay… but when they arrived, I discovered that a) they were molded together, one full cookie and one half cookie each, and b) all 5 pieces were identical, meaning that I only had ONE side of each of the partial cookies and they wouldn’t fit together! Rather than returning them and trying again—I despise returning stuff if I can help it, it’s such a hassle!—I took my handy-dandy Exacto knife and cut the cookies apart, and then actually WHITTLED the insides of two of the half cookies to make them fit! THEN I looked around at some of the past fortunes I myself received over the years—I keep my favorites and tape them to doors and furniture so I’m reminded of them when I need them—and picked the two I thought best for Corrine right now. I did a lot of measuring and scaling of text, then finally printed both, cut them out, and put each inside one of the two empty cookies. So the fortune she got WAS sort of random… just only a 50/50 chance rather than a considerably higher one.)

Corrine really wanted to stay up until dawn this year! She made it past midnight… but around 3:00 am Marley glanced over from editing photos to see her fast asleep with one arm loosely curled around Flurry, who was dozing beside her.

“Goodnight, Corrine,” Marley said softly. “Happy New Year.”

🐍 Kung Hei Fat Choi! Wishing you good fortune and prosperity in the Year of the Snake! 🐍

BONUS:

A look at Corrine’s hairstyle from the back, since I’m proud of how it came out!

#american girl #american girl doll #corrine tan #goty 2022 #lunar new year #lunar new year 2025 #kung hei fat choi #flurry dog #doll photography #doll photoshoot #turning red #dollblr

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aishangotome · 2 months 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 · 8 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 · 2 months 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 · 1 year 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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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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tokiro07 · 2 months 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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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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avelera · 1 year ago

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So I was re-reading my Amnesiac!Nicky/Joe from the Old Guard fic, Lights Out, as I try to polish off the last chapter while the inspiration is still with me (like...4 years late, I am so sorry orz) and for the record I listened to so many historical lectures to write this fic like, dear lord, basically took online lecture courses on Middle Eastern history, which is was almost entirely new to me, on Islam, on the Crusades, just... so many lectures on the Crusades. It basically sparked an actual interest in me in the Medieval Era ( was an ancients-only girly before that and really didn't see the appeal), because actually if Nicky was from Genoa in 100 CE it would have been easier to write him than 1100 CE because the mindsets are just so foreign in that time.

So anyway, since then I've continued listening to lectures, definitely picked up a bunch while writing Dreamling stuff because hey, I'm a slut for immortals and I always use the hyperfixation to delve into new historical eras. And sure, in the years since with all the new lectures I've listened to, going back to re-read Lights Out has revealed some things I would have done a bit differently, some ways I might have better portrayed a Medieval mindset in Nicky than what I did, but for the most part, they were gratifyingly minor!

Until I listened to a lecture on Catholic history and realized the single biggest historical error in the entire fucking fic.

See, I was raised Catholic, got out literally as soon as possible, but I have an enduring interest in the Catholic Church and its history as an institution. So while writing Lights Out, brushing up on Catholic Church history besides the Crusades didn't really feel like a priority. I already knew a fair amount and from personal experience felt I could at least fake the perspective of a devout Catholic.

But there was one thing, one fucking thing I got entirely wrong and only learned it in the last week, after spending literal decades of my life studying European history.

I said that Nicky went to seminary school, that he fully became a priest and then was defrocked in order to go back to Genoa to be his father's heir after his elder brothers died of a fever. I was trying to reconcile the historically impossible idea floated in some Old Guard behind the scenes stuff that Nicky could be both a priest and a Crusader, because priests were actually forbidden from fighting in the Crusades.

But here's the thing: there were no seminary schools for priests until the 1500s.

Like, it was actually kind of a big deal and credited with one of the reasons that Protestants broke away was that there were so many shitty priests because no one was actually forced to even learn all that much about the Bible or the faith at all!

This blew my mind. I thought that priests got some sort of training and had some sort of school system going all the way back to early church but apparently I was completely wrong.

Probably the more accurate thing would be to say Nicky was in a monastery and got training there and was forced to leave.

But the whole idea I had around him having actually completed some sort of training before being yanked back to secular life? Completely anachronistic for another 500 years argghhh....

#lights out #tog fic

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stevenbasic · 1 year ago

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Growing into the Job, Post 375: Back Together, p1

Melissa had ordered from the Thai place down the street, enough for the two of them. She’d offered dinner to some of the girls, if they wanted to stay after work and share, but a bunch of them were headed out to “The Tipsy Taco” on this Tuesday for burgers. Go figure.

Melissa had declined the invite for herself and him, wanting to have some time together. She’d been away all day! The clinic girls at Evolution kept her much longer than she’d thought they would, and she missed him. Hearing him talk about his day, between his tentative bites at his Drunken Noodle (she’d warned him he might not like it so spicy), she was pleased, and felt better about her absence. At least he’d kept himself busy all day.

They’d set up their little early-evening meal in the breakroom, sitting next to one another at one of the small tables; Melissa had made sure to get nice and close. Everyone else had gone, the office was empty, and the lights outside in the halls were low. Melissa had set up their spread - his noodles, her curry and soup, spring rolls and some Pad Thai in case one of them was really hungry.

That one would be Melissa.

“If you’re not going to eat that,” she giggled, reaching over to fork up a good-sized scoop of his dinner and plop it onto her paper plate.

He’d been talking about his patients, and how busy he'd been at the office all day. He was so cutely animated that Melissa was really just letting him babble. She’d stopped him at one point when he started describing Mr. Burke’s abscessed foot - “eww gross we’re eating dinner!” - but otherwise it warmed her to see him so positive, so relaxed, so engaged. She knew he’d had a weird morning here without her; the girls had told her how he’d seen the video from this weekend that had gone viral and that he’d had a little bit of a freak-out. But things were better now. His day had been good, it sounded.

Katarina’s breastmilk seemed to help.

“Wow you’re pretty hungry,” Dr. J commented, watching his new girlfriend, his Office Manager, and possibly the most physically attractive woman on the planet scarf down her Tom Yum Goong. She’d already basically finished her chicken, all but one of the appetizers, and now part of his meal. “Where are you putting it all?”

She giggled as she sat up purposefully straight, pushing out her jaw-droppingly huge chest and making him immediately realize ‘where she was putting it all’.. His eyes, of course, goggled - she loved it when they did that - and a piece of noodle fell out of his mouth. I could have burst a button for him, if I wanted, she thought, but I like this blouse and we don’t need him having a stroke..

“I am hungry,” she agreed, once he’d recovered. She’d decided not to tell him about the physical trials the team at Evolution had put her through today. They’d made her hungrier than usual…and these days she was always hungry.

But she, in an uncharacteristic moment, didn’t want to put the focus on herself. Not yet anyway. She liked how confident and relaxed he seemed, here alone with her, this evening. What Katarina had pumped today really seemed to bring out the best in him, a thought which brought back a warm, familiar feeling in her own chest. She casually readjusted a bra-strap through her yellow silk blouse. Maybe breastmilk has to become a regular part of your diet haha.

She felt a little bad that he still thought they’d given him regular old 2%, but that really couldn’t be helped. If he knew he’d been drinking the breastmilk of his pretty, young, Polish Medical Records Clerk, he’d freak.

This cute, extra-helping of aplomb that he seemed to be peacocking gave Melissa the confidence to broach what she knew would have otherwise been a sensitive topic: the video from this weekend. She mentioned it as breezily as she could,.

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled, trying to finish chewing the last bite he’d taken of his spring roll. Funny that Melissa thinks these are delicious. To me it tastes like cardboard. “That.”

“I hear you’re internet famous now,” Melissa giggled, putting a bit of sauce onto his plate, thinking a sweet dip might help him stomach some more food. “How many followers do you have now?”

“What? On Instagram? I don’t have a phone, remember?” he answered, watching her big, strong hands squeeze the little honey-chili packet, “So, uh, I dunno? It’s a private account anyway…”

“Well, we should check soon,” Melissa continued, “I bet you might be surprised by how many requests you get.”

“That’d be weird,” he answered, chuckling again. “But, yeah,” he continued, “it was strange how, today at breakfast, and then in seeing that video, I started to remember some of the, uh, things that happened this weekend."

“Oh yeah? What sort of things?” Melissa replied, squeezing the last little bits of sweet chili sauce onto her own plate. Could he see through her act? She knew he wasn’t all that sharp when it came to emotional signs and stuff, but she still felt her heart skip a beat. “

As he went on to describe his memories, the rough images and strange moments he was now able to recall of his Saturday among the women at Melissa’s house, his tone was surprisingly relaxed. The growth of the girls, the wanton intimacy, and maybe even some shrinking on his own part…it didn’t seem to bother him nearly as much as she would have guessed.

He was even laughing a little about it. She was shocked that he seemed to be starting to come to terms with not only what happened this weekend, but what life was changing into in general. He was diminishing, yes, but he was surrounded by increasingly strong, confident, capable women that loved and cared for him, herself most of all. What, exactly, was keeping him placated? Some of it had to be the milk from this morning, and some of it was her omnipresent pheromones. But some of it was…well…despite all the stress he felt these days, he was also having fun. A lot of fun. Things were getting exciting.

Oh god, this is a really good step, honey, you starting to accept this, she mused, and then thought - in a wicked little moment - So what’s our next step gonna be?

She really liked this side of him! “So,” she asked, once more feigning nonchalance as she tried to use her chopsticks again to pick up a piece of green pepper from her curry, “would you be up for - not today! but maybe later - making, like, another video...? Just the two of us..?" The pepper fell from her utensils’ grasp.

“Haha maybe!” he laughed, with a casual confidence that surprised her once again.

She pictured it in her head, she couldn’t help it, and went for the pepper a second time. Oh jesus I want to make you look so small.

“Have you always been this terrible with chopsticks?”

She laughed, and threw one of them at him. “YES!” she exclaimed, snorting and remembering the terrible time she had as a young teen trying to navigate those fancy dinners in Taiwan, “I stink!”

“OW!” he laughed back, as the cheap little piece of aspen wood clattered off him and onto the floor.

“I’m just going to use a fork!” she declared, “But I’m gonna learn…”

She picked up her fork again and, after a pause, he asked about her day.

She hesitated, looking down at her food before she answered. What she’d explained to him before about Evolution, about her history with it, had been - uh - limited, to say the least.

“So, I’ve told you I go to this clinic, at Evolution. I’ve gone there for years,” she began, unsure of where she should tread but feeling the pull to be honest with him, the man she loved, “They sort of study these growth spurts I have...”

“Uh huh,” he nodded, putting down a carrot slice he’d decided was too much.

“And, uh, this is a big one, this past month or two, how much I’ve shot up…” she continued, picking up her fork and stabbing a piece of curried chicken.

“You think?” he interjected, uncharacteristically glib.

She smiled. “Yeah, well, it really isn’t stopping, and they’re concerned that I’m starting to grow faster.” The chicken was gone in one bite.

He felt the warm weight of that truth hit him right in his gut - and then start to settle lower. His cock - goddamn this fucking thing - liked the sound of that, despite its context, and was swelling down his pantleg. He was still in his scrubs. He should be worried, right? Not about getting a boner - that was almost his normal state of being, these days - but about his girlfriend being in the midst of an unexplainable growth spurt? Not to mention that apparently she could bench-press a car. It made no sense, it sounded dangerous, but jesus. It’s so fucking hot.

“D-do they know why you’re growing?” he asked, aware that this conversation had a much different tone than it should. He was a physician, and he was surrounded - apparently - by women who grew bigger by the day. Was this some sort of disease? There should be investigation going on, performed by someone other than a half-shady, impossibly-funded pharmaceutical company with questionable origins and motives. But, though he knew better than to pursue it on his own, he couldn't help but be interested. “Like, is it…something genetic?”

“Yeah sort of…” she replied, hoping she wasn’t sounding as evasive as she felt. Ooooo I just want to tell you! Tell you everything! My mom! My sister!! You!!! Everything that’s happening! She knew, though, she couldn’t! Ahg!!!

He was a bit bewildered that he knew so little about her family; she’d been so good at avoiding the topic. He, though, had to admit that he’d been the same way.

“Do other people in your family have the same, uh, things?” Like, do you come from a family of Amazon thunder goddesses? He was starting to feel like he was living - instead of in the real world - in one of the comic books from his youth.

“My family?” she answered, pulling the tray of Pad Thai towards herself and starting to scoop out a healthy blob of noodles, “Uh, well, my mom…my family…they’re weird…”

He looked at her beside him at the table as she served herself yet another plateful of take-out Thai food. She was in some sort of moment of reflection. He couldn’t help but marvel at how her beauty had risen recently. Again. He watched wordlessly as she pushed the tray aside and composed herself. She straightened in her cheap plastic chair, her posture growing naturally regal as she - apparently not happy with her hair - removed it from its clip, and began shaking it out.

The thickly dark, undulating mass flowed down her back like swirling eddies in a writhing river, hypnotizing him with its lushness. She gathered its incredible volume in her hands, her high brows arched as she tamed it. Her massive and expressive eyes twinkled as she looked at him, watching him watch her. Her full lips formed a warm smile, and she enjoyed his rapt attention; he seemed so fascinated by something as simple as a girl putting up her hair haha. She wrinkled her perfect nose, and he could do nothing but admire how her lofty cheekbones complemented her achingly flawless complexion, giving her face a timeless, imperious elegance.

He shook himself back to reality. “So, uh, nothing they’re doing, though?” he asked, “Trying to stop it?”

She almost giggled. Stop it? Why would I want them to stop it?

“No, no. In the end, still no answers,” she lied, feeling honestly a little bad, “they just want to watch, wait.” She took in a nice, gentle breath, and let it out, seeing his eyes fall again to her chest. Haha, careful Missy. You’re starting to get turned on. “But in the meantime you get to just sit back and enjoy watching me get bigger…” she said, his eyes still on her bosom, “...and bigger.”

gurk. “I just…I hope you’re okay,” he said genuinely, meeting her eyes.

“Ahhh, I’m better than okay,” she purred, letting her voice drop an octave. She paused. “In fact, I feel great.” She took a sip of her water, and thought that this would be a good time to do what they’d asked her to do, to ask him to come into the clinic. I could ask if they could give you a checkup, tell you maybe what’s up with you, maybe they could figure out why you’ve been…nngh. Shrinking.

She took another sip of water, But they all know, already. They know exactly what’s going on. It’s all because of me. They just want to study you like a -

A sudden protective urge made Melissa bristle. She’d had these feelings like she has to protect him from danger before. She’d talked about them to Marcia, to the other lab techs, and to the psych team. Her instincts told her loud and clear: hold it, don’t say anything to him right now. Don’t invite him to Evolution. I always thought it was outside dangers that I had to worry about, she thought, But maybe I actually have to start protecting him from them.

It was time for a change of topic. Putting down her water, and pushing aside the pad thai, she reached for her tablet. ”Let’s talk about the new hires…” she offered…

==============================================

#growingintothejob #growing into the job

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fanfic-phoenix · 1 year ago

Text

A Whole Lifetime

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1538

Read on AO3

Perhaps, like Jim, Spock felt an inability to connect. A barrier between himself and the rest of the galaxy. Different barriers, yes - the barrier of rank, the barrier of emotion - but barriers all the same. The impossibility of meeting someone, anyone, who might understand them well enough to…

To what?

All that, and Jim’s mind was fixed on one crucial point. When I feel friendship for you, I am ashamed.

***

No longer infected, Jim and Spock are forced to discuss what came to light in the briefing room.

I’ve spent a whole lifetime learning to hide my feelings.

-Spock, The Naked Time

“Three days to live again,” Jim said, as he and Spock entered the lift down to their respective quarters. Doctor’s… suggestion. A step down from an order, which had to go on the record, but Bones had no compunctions about making them into orders if the captain dared resist them.

The suggestion was that all those expected by the virus go to bed. Sulu had gone down immediately; he and Spock had resisted a little longer, though Bones had glared.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have glared so fiercely if he’d known the conversation they were avoiding.

“It sounds… It feels impossible,” he finished.

“It will be an interesting report for Starfleet Command,” Spock said, his voice as deep and measured as it ever was. “I look forward to reading your take on it.”

There was no hint in him of the tearful man Jim had encountered earlier.

My God! Tears! Even now, it was, quite frankly, unbelievable. Spock had always seemed… above such things. And now, Jim knew that he wasn’t. That even if that heart of his bled green, it could bleed all the same.

“Mr Spock,” he began, then faltered. “That is… Spock, I…”

“Captain?”

“If…” Jim cleared his throat, frustrated. He was James T. Kirk. He was no coward. “If you wanted to go to Vulcan, to see your parents… Well. You have plenty of leave time accumulated, and I have no reason to deny it.”

The silence rang like a death knell. The tips of Spock’s ears flushed slightly green - a delicate olive shade - in embarrassment, or perhaps in shame. Jim regretted opening his mouth, and he was about to apologise before Spock finally spoke.

“You have my thanks, Captain.” His dark brown eyes flicked to the ceiling, away from Jim. “And my request that, if you intend to continue this conversation, we retire to my quarters.”

Jim blinked. He’d expected dismissal, total retreat, and instead received only the suggestion that they change to a more suitable venue - an entirely reasonable request, of course. And an invitation to Spock’s quarters! Jim wasn’t sure any being aboard ship could claim to have had the same. The Vulcan was famously unsociable; several months into the friendship, and Jim had only succeeded in tempting him to chess in the rec room. They hadn’t even shared a meal, yet; Spock apparently preferred to eat alone.

“Most agreeable, Mr Spock,” he said, and followed him to his room.

It was not the room he had expected his first officer to have.

He’d expected something rather sparse, ascetic. Instead, the wash of red and green was almost luxurious. Thick curtains surrounded Spock’s bed - and Jim would be damned if those blankets were standard issue. Vulcan art adorned the walls, alongside Spock’s lyre, and even a few weapons, shining sharp in a way suggesting they were polished regularly.

“We were once a culture of warriors,” Spock said, following his gaze. “It is the opinion of some on Vulcan that employment in Starfleet represents a return to those primitive ways.”

“And so you embrace it,” Jim said, with no small amount of admiration. To take an insult and turn it into interior design… If nothing else, it demonstrated a sense of humour that Spock had little opportunity to exercise - at least in front of his captain.

A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of Spock’s lips - or perhaps Jim imagined it. “And so I embrace it.”

Jim smiled back and, for a moment, they could almost forget the awkwardness that had brought them here in the first place.

Almost.

“I must apologise, Captain, for my earlier loss of control.” Spock’s smile, if it had ever existed, was entirely gone.

“Apology accepted, Mr Spock,” Jim said, “though I’m of the firm opinion that none was necessary. No one could resist that infection - I don’t hold you responsible.”

“It was undignified.”

“No more so than striking one’s first officer. Or… Confessing attraction to members of the crew.”

“Yeoman Rand,” said Spock, very quiet. After a moment, he added delicately, “Sir, Starfleet regulations do not directly forbid-”

“No, Spock.” Jim smiled weakly. “I’m not really… It would never be anything long term. And I can’t have anything short term with someone on the Enterprise. I wouldn’t want that.”

“I see.”

“It was… Representative of a larger issue.”

“In that case,” said Spock, finally taking a seat and gesturing Jim to another, “I confess that my distress regarding my mother was also indicative of… wider difficulties.”

For a moment, they sat in silence. Even in the stillness, Jim’s mind whirled. Dare he ask? Was it… selfish? To ask? Here Spock was, confessing to… difficulties. Perhaps - perhaps - the same difficulties that Jim himself experienced.

To what?

All that, and Jim’s mind was fixed on one crucial point. When I feel friendship for you, I am ashamed.

“Ask,” said Spock. If Jim hadn’t known better, he might have suspected Spock of reading his mind. But Vulcans were touch telepaths, and they were not touching. And besides, Spock would never breach his trust, in that way or any other. They…

Strange to think of it, but they hadn’t known each other all that long. Yet Jim was as certain of Spock’s loyalty as he was of Bones’.

“You are ashamed of friendship.” It was hardly a question, but Spock seemed unoffended.

“I am shamed by the depths of my… feelings.” He seemed reluctant to own that such feelings existed when not under the influence of the virus that they had now never contracted. “I have known you less than a year, yet I have allowed you to know me better than any other being. I owe you my loyalty, the loyalty of an officer to his captain, but even if you were not my captain, I believe you would have it. It is foolish, rushed, and I have allowed it to happen. That is why I am ashamed.”

“At least you aren’t alone in it,” Jim said, shell-shocked to the point he hardly knew what to say. “You know me better than any being aboard this ship, and the crew aboard this ship knows me better than anyone in the galaxy. Only Bones comes close to beating you, and even then… There is a burden of command which he cannot share.”

Silence fell again, silence that neither of them knew how to break.

It suddenly struck Jim how… lonely his life had been, that the man who knew him best was a Vulcan he’d met only months before. He’d known it, of course, but never been made to confront it so… so terribly.

And how lonely Spock must be to find himself in the same boat. Lonelier, even. At least Jim had a people, a species, behind him; Spock was one of a kind, and separate from both sides of his heritage because of it.

The air felt thick. It should have been sudden, yet it wasn’t.

Their eyes met in perfect understanding. One desperately lonely man and one desperately lonely Vulcan, bound by duty and by logic to remain that way. Whatever else they might become, they would always be that.

And yet the air was so thick.

“I won’t,” said Jim. “I was telling the truth. The captain cannot notice. He is not allowed to notice.”

“There is no official regulation, especially when ranks are close,” said Spock. “However, if you do not wish to notice, then I will ensure there is nothing to notice.”

And he would, wouldn’t he? That damned Vulcan loyalty - if Jim said the word, Spock would bury anything he was asked to.

But he didn’t say the word, and Spock appeared before him, kneeling, smiling very slightly at him. He placed his hands on Jim’s thighs.

“If it goes to hell,” he said hoarsely, “I lose the best first officer in the fleet. I won’t risk that.”

Those wonderful hands danced towards Jim’s hips, and Jim let them.

“If it ‘goes to hell’, as you say,” Spock murmured, and he must have known what it’d do to Jim to hear him curse, he had to have known, “do you not think that, of any man aboard this ship, I am capable of compartmentalising?”

Jim had one more argument, one more excuse, and no desire to play it. He bent his head, and Spock raised his, and they came together in something like a crash, something like a fall, something that didn’t fit quite right and yet fit perfectly. Spock’s lips were plush and pliant and slightly…

“Lip gloss?” Jim asked, smiling.

Spock raised an eyebrow and kissed him again, and Jim noted that that was not an answer, but let it slide.

If it goes to hell, Jim hadn’t said, I lose my closest friend.

But Spock’s fingers painted patterns on Jim’s skin, and the thought faded into nothingness.

#phoenix_rose #star trek: the original series #jim kirk #spock #post-episode s1 e4: The Naked Time #spirk #jim kirk/spock #first kiss #getting together

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