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dimonds456 · 4 years

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Gem Steven’s gem is flipped upside-down. (Theory/Speculation time!)

SPOILERS FOR @spudinacup’s SU AU “Gone Wrong”!

Also WARNING: long post!

So recently, someone pointed out that Steven has a scar on his torso going across his gem’s location, which I found interesting in and of itself. Makes sense, since he wasn’t able to heal it since he DIED and his gem was shoved out of his body before it got the chance to heal him. That slash mark is there now. Wow, neat! Nice detai-

Wait.

Hold on a sec.

Is his gem... flipped upside-down? Well, it’s been like this for a while, maybe it’s just a creative choi-

...oh.

This is VERY intentional.

So I did some digging, and found much more symbolism and possible foreshadowing, and now I want to throw out my theory about Gem Steven here, including his potential arc and character development. I’ll try to keep everything brief while still blowing your minds, and I’ll try to get across what my jumbled mind has come up with.

Spud please notice me.

I will not be uploading photos to go with everything I say (go reread the comic after this and verify for yourself what all I’ve said), but I’ll show visuals when they’re necessary. I do not claim ANY of this art as mine (I wish my art was this good ;u; ), all of it belongs to Spudinacup and their SU AU, which has all kinds of hidden symbolism, foreshadowing, and visual cues we haven’t picked up on yet, as I’ve just learned while researching this theory. This ain’t your run-of-the-mill AU, everything in here is intentional. Scott Spud doesn’t do coincidences. So I’ll point out that stuff in screenshots.

Okay let’s go.

SO! To begin with, let’s talk about why his gem may have flipped, and to realize that, we have to know when. We don’t see the gem much, but we do see it constantly through Chapter 1, where it is normal. The pentagon is pointed upward. However, in Chapter 2, this is where we see it flipped upside down. When did that happen? We didn’t see it. I believe it happened in that first scene in the bathroom, right after we left. The butterflies were swarming angrily, and Steven was very lost in thought.

Notice whenever those butterflies appear. They seem to show up every time he thinks about who he is. Is he still Steven, or is he someone else now? Steven is dead. Everyone is mourning him, trying to heal him, but Gem is still here. So if Steven is dead, but Gem is still alive, that must mean he isn’t Steven then, right? But then that undoes everything we learned in “Change Your Mind.” He IS Steven. He’s always been Steven. But that’s when they were together...

...And so the butterflies swarm.

Notice how the first one shows up when he looks at himself in the mirror. When you look in a mirror, you should see yourself, right? But who IS he? In the show, butterflies represent thoughts and ideas, mostly dark ones, disturbing ones, or ones you don’t want to think about. Well, he already spent WAY too long proving who he was, so now to do it again sucks.

But he isn’t Steven anymore. He’s on the couch being mourned. But he’s already proved he IS Steven before, and it’s this uncertainty that is making his mind swirl. I believe this is why he flipped his gem. Just upside-down, so it’s a small thing no one will notice, while he tries to figure it out. In doing so, he’s separated himself from “Steven”, as they’re not one and the same anymore, and the flipped gem shows this. He’s someone else right now. Maybe. He’s not sure.

So what do we call you for right now? Steven. He already proved he was Steven, so until he’s proved otherwise, Steven it is. Now he just has to figure out what exactly that name means and wether or not he still fits that quota.

Flipped gem/Pink Diamond imagery is EVERYWHERE, mostly hidden in drastic shadows or in panels. It’s things you don’t notice at first, until they’re staring you in the face. See if you can spot them from the 3 screenshots below.

There’s probably more hidden throughout the comic, these are just the ones I’ve found that I feel confident enough to show as hard evidence.

So, what does it all mean? We’ll talk about the screenshots in order, left to right.

First, the Diamond is hidden as the panel in the center. In it, Human Steven lies upside down while the gem-panel is technically upside right. This can be interpreted in a few ways, but what that means to me is that something isn’t right here. If you flip Steven back around so he’s upside right, the gem is now upside down. Notice Gem Steven looking towards his human half on the bottom panel there, clutching his shirt over his gem. It’s a motion we’ve seen Steven do a TON throughout the show, anytime he’s thinking about Rose/Pink, who he is, or complicated gem stuff as a whole. Because early on, his identity was always shrouded in shadow. THAT is Steven, on the couch, without his gem. So for Gem Steven to call himself Steven is inaccurate, but also not at the same time. It’s all swarming in his head, and thus, the gem is flipped.

Next, he’s just broken the rejuvenator. This was probably the hardest to spot of the three, but if you look at the panel where Bismuth asks “feel better?” you will see, in the background, a white line cut through the soft pink hues. Look closer. It’s the outline of the gem, but it’s flipped correctly this time. This is because Bismuth seems to be the only person NOT saying Steven is dead, and treating his gem half one and the same. Is she unnerved? Yeah, but who WOULDN’T be? This is still Steven we’re talking about, as emotionally blocked as he is. He’s aware of why everyone is being weird around him, so to see Bismuth trying her best to treat him with familiarity instead of a completely different, new, dangerous stranger is really calming and helps to calm the storm a bit.

Notice the gem is flipped correctly. This is because he feels like Steven right now. Bismuth has been constant confirmation that he is still Steven, no matter the circumstances. Notice how his eyes dialate back to a larger size. They do that a lot in the comic, articulating his emotions without changing the rest of his face. It’s a clever detail to keep track of. His eyes grow more relaxed, dialating bigger when she pats his shoulder, asking if he feels better after destroying the weapon that killed him. It’s a huge relief for him to hear. So, the gem is correct.

Finally, we see Bismuth telling Greg that his son is dead, which is very contradictory to what Bis was saying earlier (in Steven’s eyes). Where is the gem on that frame? Look at Steven’s shadow. There it is, facets and all. To us, the gem is correct, but think about it this way: if Steven were actually replaced with the gem in that frame, what would it look like, Pink’s or White’s? That’s right. The point is coming from his feet, meaning it would look more like White’s, meaning it is back to being flipped upside down. Again, Bismuth just said Steven is dead, meaning he’s back to questioning his whole entire identity. So it’s back to being flipped upside-down.

It seems that the orientation of the symbolic gems hidden throughout panels show quite clearly where his head is at in terms of who he is. If it’s upside down, he’s separating himself from the cold meatball on the couch, whereas when it’s normal/upside right, he is associating himself WITH the cold meatball on the couch.

Notice he’s been grabbing at his gem a lot recently, too, all things he does while in turmoil over who- or WHAT- he is. He cannot heal right now. He can’t use his powers. Some powers are new and unfamiliar (see the more recent pages where Lapis struck out with water and he blocked with those hexagonal shields/walls). “Steven HEALS people.” He can’t, so who is he?

This is something he’ll need to have an answer to by the time the comic is done, and this is a mission for Gem Steven and Gem Steven alone. If his human half were alive (and content without his gem), he’d probably call himself “Steven” no questions asked, since he GOT his answer already, two years ago. But Gem can’t do that, not when everyone keeps drawing all these lines between the two. He needs to learn what being “Steven” means, and know that he is a part of a greater whole, but on his own, he is STILL Steven. Everyone else needs to realize this, too, and stop separating the two. It’s gonna be rough, since it may feel like replacing what they lost, but is it really? It’s going to be a tough road to trek, and I don’t know what anyone’s answer is gonna be (that’s the big mystery here, after all), but I’m here for it.

Remember, all of this has been speculation on what may happen based on facts and clues Spud has presented us with. I’m not claiming to know how Gem Steven’s arc will end, but I am throwing my hat into the ring on where I THINK it will go. Either way, the foreshadowing, symbolism, and unspoken characterizations here have been excellent, and I’m looking forward to seeing everything play out. Spud, your mind is incredible, and whatever you’ve got planned over there, I’m confident the answer will be satisfactory.

I’ll shut up now. Thank you for reading this huge meta post, and go read Spud’s comic. You can find it at @suaugonewrong or on Spud’s Tumblr, which was linked above. If you think I’m wrong or have a counter argument, bring it. Let’s talk, cause this is genuinely interesting and fun to dissect. I wanna talk about it OwO

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caffeinatedseri · 3 years

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Dead Apple Light Novel

Recently, I decided to buy LN 5, Dead Apple, purely because I’m a sucker for all of BSD’s light novels, so this post will revolve around what I took away from this novel.

Dead Apple is Canon

Since the story jumps around in the timeline a lot, I had originally thought that Dead Apple took place outside of canon (especially with Atsushi’s flashback).

However, a particular part of Asagiri’s afterword stuck out to me:

Now, allow me a moment to discuss some of the particulars of Dead Apple. Chronologically, the story takes place after the second season of the anime — in other words, after the war with the Guild, which puts Dead Apple somewhere between the ninth and tenth volumes of the manga.

The novel also ended up affecting the main story in numerous ways, and I’m sure this new experience will continue to influence my future work as well.

It’s not unusual for a light novel to insert itself into the main timeline (see 55 Minutes which takes place in the 10th volume), but it’s nice to have confirmation that the same applies to Dead Apple.

Of course, just because a work isn’t canon compliant (see BEAST), doesn’t mean that it has no potential for further analysis or it doesn’t bring any added complexity to the main plot. Regardless, this post serves as somewhat of a precursor to my other posts concerning Dead Apple since I have a tendency to talk about it a lot, and I’d like to establish a basis for a lot of my posts.

Differences between the Movie and Light Novel

In the afterword of the light novel, Hiro Iwahata (the author of this LN) said:

“Furthermore, I worked on this book under Asagiri’s supervision, meaning there are several lines in certain scenes that differ from the movie. It might even be fun comparing the two! Nothing would make me happier than the fans enjoying this novel alongside the movie.”

As per Iwahata’s request, I went into the light novel, looking for differences between it and the movie. However, the novel is surprisingly, almost identical to the movie (maybe not surprising considering it is a “movie novelization”).

Because the differences are so miniscule, I believe they hold an even greater significance, since Asagiri must have wanted to change these specific details for a certain reason.

Some of the differences I talk about might be unimportant, but I did my best to catch everything that was changed from the movie.

1. The movie doesn’t mention SKK as a part of the Dragon’s Head Conflict, but the novel says, “Some fought under the alias Twin Dark.”

This probably means that SKK became a pair either before the Dragon’s Head Conflict or during (although I’m pretty sure that the “organization” they destroyed over night was Shibusawa’s organization).

2. When Dazai says that he would’ve continued killing people in the mafia if it weren’t for Oda, Atsushi has little to no reaction in the movie; I would describe it as maybe a hesitant or concerned feeling.

In the novel, Atsushi has a more outward reaction.

““Huh...?!” Atsushi was baffled. He had no idea whether that was true. What did Dazai mean by that? (...) The melancholy Atsushi felt from Dazai had disappeared, and Dazai continued to speak in his usual lighthearted manner.”

Not only does he react verbally, but the novel also adds an inner monologue (mainly for Atsushi) that can’t be portrayed as well in movie format.

To me, this change highlights how Atsushi sees Dazai purely as a good person; he reacts in such a startled manner because he believes that Dazai is too good of a person to be in the mafia killing people (which we know Atsushi hates). This trend reoccurs throughout the story, of Atsushi turning a blind eye to Dazai’s “bad side.”

3. This one isn’t at all the movie’s fault, but the novel gives a lot more clues as to what the “dead apple” and the dagger in the apple motif represents.

The first time it appears is when Kunikida and Tanizaki meet the Special Division’s agent, but they find out that he’s already dead.

“It [the apple] was, without a doubt, a simple fruit... save for the fact that there was a knife sticking out of it as if to condemn the taste of sin. A blade had been driven into the symbol of original sin. A dreary, ominous aura, oozed from the ripe fruit like venom.

Throughout the novel, it seems to associate the “dead apple” motif with Fyodor pretty strongly, especially since this paragraph ties in Fyodor’s ideals nicely with the symbolism of the apple and dagger.

The apple represents sin, the very first sin — which you could interpret as sin at its purest — while the dagger represents the condemning of such sin. However, the apple can also potentially symbolize life, while the dagger stabbing into life can mean death.

Fyodor’s ideals revolve around “removing the sin” of ability users (represented by an apple in this case) but he does so through manipulation. The dagger is associated with stealth and deception, which is fitting with what Fyodor does to “remove the sin” of ability users.

However, he’s also taking the lives of ability users in this process, hence stabbing the apple, coincidentally committing another sin in his attempt to relinquish all sin.

4. In the “Snow White” Oda and Dazai flashback, everything is identical to the movie (word for word), but there is some additional narration.

“It was an alarming sight — Dazai sounded like he was in a trance. It was as if he was ignoring all this world had to offer while in pursuit of something else.”

I’ve talked about this particular scene before here, but the gist is that Dazai was discreetly talking about himself while referring to Snow White.

Dazai joined the mafia because he believed that the violence (or true human nature) would give him a reason to live, but we already know that this kind of thinking was flawed. Thus, this line most likely means that Dazai was ignoring all of the “good” qualities of the world while pursuing a reason to live, which inevitably wouldn’t work.

5. Right after the flashback, when Dazai takes the pill, the novel really sells the act of “Dazai walking towards his death and going to the evil side.”

Personally, this scene in the movie felt more open to interpretation after you’ve seen the ending. You could say that Dazai took the antidote and said “Being on the side that saves people is more beautiful,” because his plan is to continue living to save more people.

However, the novel throws away any possible double meaning with this paragraph:

“Dazai then reached for the pill with his bandaged hand, neatly picked it up, and slowly brought it to his lips — just like Snow White and the sweet, poisoned apple. The venomous red-and-pure-white-pill disappeared inside his mouth.”

After Dazai’s tangent on how Snow White could’ve committed suicide out of despair, the narration compares him directly to Snow White. With the added venomous pill stated outright, it only further cements the idea that Dazai’s actually committing suicide here.

I don’t particularly like this change, because it feels like this moment was set up entirely just to divert the audience’s expectations, rather than it be a standalone scene that makes sense when considering the rest of the story. (It might not necessarily be a change, possibly just a rough translation from movie to novel).

6. When Atsushi wakes up from his nightmare, there’s some additional inner monologue:

Everything’s okay. I’m not the same person I was when I lived at the orphanage. I have friends. I have a place where I belong — the Armed Detective Agency. Things are different now.

The anime (and in turn the movie) tends to downplay the effects of Atsushi’s trauma — probably due to the limitations of anime — but regardless the novel portrays it much better with how Atsushi’s trauma affects practically every aspect of his life.

7. I thought Fukuzawa’s ability only gave his subordinates control over their abilities, but the novel says:

“Yukichi Fukuzawa and his skill, All Men are Equal, a peculiar ability that allowed him to suppress and control his subordinates’ skills.”

Does this mean that Fukuzawa could control and suppress all of the agency’s abilities? It could be a weird translation, but it seems oddly specific.

8. This detail isn’t actually a novel exclusive, but it is an extremely small detail that I missed while watching the movie, so I figured I would add it here too.

“the phantom’s notebook had the word Compromise written on the cover. A copy of himself that didn’t follow ideals but made compromises was an abomination to Kunikida.”

Considering how abilities act as the shadow to every character in this story, this is a nice detail that shows how Kunikida’s inner desire is to compromise, because carrying such heavy ideals is undoubtedly a burden. However, because he holds onto his ideals so strongly, it becomes his biggest weakness AND his biggest strength.

9. There’s a super small detail added to this scene with Dazai, Fyodor, and Shibusawa. When Dazai suggests that Shibusawa could be saved by an angel or a demon, the following exchange occurs:

“Hmm... Maybe an angel?” Dazai picked up the skull on the table. “Or maybe a demon?” “It’s obvious what both of your true intentions are, if you ask me.” The third man mirthfully cackled and took the skull from Dazai’s hand.

In the movie, Dazai doesn’t pick up anything, so as a result Fyodor doesn’t take anything from Dazai either.

Because Fyodor walked into the scene after Dazai suggested that an angel or demon would save Shibusawa, I strongly suspect that this was foreshadowing future events in which Fyodor does “save” Shibusawa by giving him his memories back.

The novel adds more to this foreshadowing by having Dazai pick up the skull before it’s taken by Fyodor — essentially having Fyodor take the cards out of Dazai’s hands and put them in his favor.

It’s also worth pointing out that the skull is also the object that Fyodor uses to revive Shibusawa into a supernatural ghost of some sorts at the end of the story.

10. This may be just a difference in translations but in the movie, Shibusawa refers to Fyodor as “Demon Fyodor-kun”, whereas in the novel Fyodor is called “Fyodor the Conjurer.” (Ango uses the Conjurer title as well).

In western esotericism, a conjurer is a person who summons supernatural beings, like spirits, demons, or God.

This slightly changes the connotation of Fyodor’s title from a inhuman being of pure malicious intent to just a human who summons these otherworldly beings. This idea also aligns with Shibusawa’s revival, since he’s some sort of supernatural ghost that was “summoned” by Fyodor.

11. Skipping past the parts where Kyouka and Akutagawa regain their abilities, and Chuuya talks to Ango in the government facility, (since they have little to no changes between the movie and the novel) there is a somewhat significant detail changed in Draconia once again with Dazai and Fyodor.

In the novel, this glowing ball of energy from the movie is actually described as an apple:

The two lights melted into one and spun until they formed a juicy sphere. They had produced a single apple — a juicy, poisoned apple red as blood.

It birthed a skill — and an extremely powerful one at that — the ability to absorb. Every last crystal adorning Draconia’s walls was sucked into the apple with intense force. Ten — a hundred — a thousand — two thousand — every last one was greedily devoured by the apple...

The apple swelled as it absorbed the numerous crystals until the red light became hotter than the surface of hell.

Since the “dead apple” motif aligns with Fyodor’s character, we can assume that the apple is representative of sin, and sin is associated with abilities, as Fyodor believes.

This strange poisoned apple is made of abilities and has an ability (the ability to absorb), and it commits a sin (greed) in its devouring of other abilities; it’s also hotter than “hell”, which is a very specific connection that leads me to this idea:

My theory is that a normal apple represents life, while a poisoned apple (or dead apple), indicative of a stained, impure life, represents sin. Fyodor believes abilities are akin to sin (what a clever rhyme), therefore all of their lives are sinful.

12. This is arguably the most insignificant change of this entire post, but I feel obligated to put it here regardless since it was different from the movie. When the Special Division detects the singularity of Shibusawa’s dragon form in the novel, it says:

“Abnormal values for singularity are increasing! They’re twice — no, 2.5 times higher than they were six years ago.”

In the movie, the number is five times higher instead.

Why did this number change? Is it significant? I honestly have no idea (I’m surprised I even caught this), but it’s there and I had to document it anyways.

13. The novel adds this narration for Shibusawa when he gets his memories back and he’s in the orphanage’s room with Atsushi:

“Shibusawa clearly recalled the events from six years ago. Fyodor had enticed him to go to the orphanage where he tortured a young Atsushi... until Atsushi fought back and killed him.”

There’s two things to take away from this: Fyodor had known Shibusawa for at least six years, and Fyodor had been planning the events of Dead Apple since at least six years ago.

I find it hard to believe that Fyodor’s plan was thwarted by Dazai, because of how Fyodor demonstrated his ability to plan ahead in the main series, but I’m not sure what the long term effects of this plan could be. If Shibusawa succeeded, then it could’ve aligned with the DOA’s goals, but once again I don’t think Fyodor’s plan was actually foiled.

14. Super minor once again, but right after Shibusawa gets revived, the last sentence of chapter 5 is,

“Nobody would ever see the smile on Fyodor’s face.”

Honestly, I think this was just added to create an ominous tone, but it’s a nice detail regardless.

15. As the red fog spreads across Yokohama, there’s a good part of exposition that connects the “dead apple” motif to Fyodor once again:

“After the red fog devoured the earth, the planet would undoubtedly look like a floating red apple from space. There would be no humans left on its surface, nor any signs they ever existed. It would be a true paradise, and with that, the Dead Apple would finally be complete. A dead planet covered in red fog — that was what Fyodor had planned and sought out.

Nothing other than death could wash away the original sin of man, so it was only fitting for the sin, which started with a fruit, to end with one as well.

It’s pretty long, but I like the way this passage is written, more specifically the last part since it fits well with the sinful poisoned apple idea.

It also aligns with Fyodor’s ideals of creating a true paradise, free of ability users. However, if Fyodor had planned to have the Earth covered in fog, that could mean that his plan was actually stopped by Dazai and Atsushi in the end.

16. Shibusawa has a few additional lines of dialogue when he talks to Atsushi in their final fight.

“The dragon and tiger... I see now why they are called rivals.”

The dragon and tiger have their roots in Chinese Buddhism, but to go further into that topic would make this already lengthy post even longer.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though. I’m not blaming you for what happened.”

This line is a brief moment of weakness for Shibusawa, which is interesting in contrast to his strong will to kill Atsushi. Just as Atsushi learned to accept the past and the tiger’s ferocity, Shibusawa shares the same attitude by separating the blame from himself to just simply accepting the past for what happened.

17. In the aftermath of the last fight against Shibusawa, Atsushi and Kyouka meet up with Dazai.

Kyouka asks, “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” which prompts two different responses in the movie and novel respectively.

In the movie, Atsushi says, “Just as Shibusawa was able to forget that he’d been killed before, I think Dazai can put his past behind him again. But this is fine.”

In the novel, Atsushi says:

“... I could probably seal away this memory just like how I’d forgotten I’d killed him before. But... I’m okay with this.”

I interpreted Kyouka’s question in the movie to be questioning Dazai’s loyalties, as he did betray everyone, and Atsushi responded in Dazai’s defense because he trusts him.

However, the novel does change Atsushi’s response to focus on himself rather than Dazai, which in turn changes the implications of Kyouka’s question.

Kyouka seems to be asking Atsushi whether he was okay with killing Shibusawa, and Atsushi responds by acknowledging that he did kill Shibusawa, and that’s okay. (a very clear development from the beginning of the story when he believed it was unnecessary to kill anyone, and he didn’t want to kill anyone)

18. In the epilogue, Ango talks about the underlying motivations behind the “Dead Apple” case. This change could be attributed to translation differences (like many others in this post), but the connotation does slightly differ from movie to novel.

In the movie, Ango says, “How is a man like Shibusawa, so intelligent that others look like alien creatures to him, to act, to be destroyed, or to be saved?”

In the novel, Ango says:

“Perhaps the two of them [Dazai and Fyodor] just wanted to get a glimpse of someone like them... Perhaps they wanted to see what he would do and how he would meet his demise... or perhaps how he would be saved.”

The movie simply poses a broad question of what would happen to Shibusawa, a person alienated from the rest of society.

The novel changes this to focus on Dazai and Fyodor’s perspective — two irredeemable aliens from society just like Shibusawa — executing this grand scheme out of curiosity to see what would happen to someone of the likes of them, and if there’s a possibility for redemption.

19. This is the final difference on this list, and it’s quite a large change. In Fyodor’s monologue at the very end of the story, he has a completely different tone from the movie to novel.

In the movie, Fyodor says, “But in order to end this world, rife with crime and punishment, I do need that book.”

The novel says:

Glittering high-rises and stately brick buildings stood side by side in this port city with its countless citizens who struggled against crime and punishment. “I think I’ve taken a liking to this city myself..” Fyodor took a bite of the apple in his hand, and the juicy nectar ran down his delicate fingers. “You’d all better be on your best behavior until next time.”

The reference to the book may have been removed for consistency with the main series, as the book is a part of the DOA’s plan (or more specifically Fukuchi).

It also seems like Fyodor has grown fond of the city, and no longer wants Yokohama to be destroyed, so it’s still possible that his plan deterred from what he had originally intended.

Beyond that, I’m not entirely sure why crime and punishment was mentioned, or why there’s such an ominous tone to his ending statement, but that’s up to personal interpretation.

That concludes the long list of extremely specific and minor differences between the Dead Apple movie and light novel!

Overall, I would say it’s worth checking out the light novel if you don’t have a strong grasp of the Dead Apple story, because it definitely presents the small intricacies of the plot in a more comprehensible way.

On a side note, the manga adaptation has a lot of noticeable differences from the movie and light novel, mostly with the addition of entirely new scenes (which you can read @buraihatranslations — what a shameless self plug). I would highly recommend reading it as those extra scenes are very amusing, to say the least without giving any spoilers.

Honestly, this post was a lot longer than I intended, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. Thank you for reading!

#bsd #bsd dead apple #bsd meta #bungou stray dogs

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cheri-translates · 3 years

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[CN] Shaw’s Creative Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 创意之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

This date features S2 Shaw, but contains no spoilers for S2!

[ This date was released on 13 May 2021 ]

Removing the VR headset, I rub my slightly sore eyes. Seeing the familiar modern furniture leaves me in a momentary trance.

MC: I finally cleared it - this game about the ancient times is pretty immersive.

Aside from completing missions, the game also has a rich plot written in a classical literary style. As a “workshop apprentice”, I successfully created a string of wood carved persimmons.

Rotating my aching wrists, it’s as though the sensation of carving products is still lingering on my hands.

MC: It’s a shame that I could only do that in the game...

Just when I’m about to continue grumbling, my phone suddenly rings.

Tapping the answer button, a familiar voice drifts lazily to my ear.

Shaw: Not a sound from you even during the weekend. What are you up to?

MC: I just played an immersive game, and it’s pretty fun.

At the other end of the line, Shaw makes an “oh” sound, then continues asking.

Shaw: Are you planning to stay at home today?

MC: Mm. I finally finished a big program, so I’m pretty comfortable playing games at home.

Hearing my response, Shaw’s tone lifts slightly at the end.

Shaw: It’s just a game. You can play it anytime, can’t you? The weather outside is great. Staying at home is such a waste. Why not take a stroll outside?

My gaze sweeps over the VR headset. While I’m hesitating whether or not to agree, a thought suddenly flashes across my mind, and I have an idea.

MC: Shaw, why don't you accompany me somewhere?

Shaw pauses for a moment, his subtle breathing drifting over the phone along with the electric currents.

Shaw: Where do you want to go?

MC: I’ll keep it a secret first. You’ll know when you get there. It’s definitely a place you wouldn’t expect.

Shaw chuckles softly, and he seems to stretch.

Shaw: All right. Since you invited me with such magnificent hospitality, I’ll reluctantly keep you company.

Soon after, the both of us stand at the entrance of a wood carving studio. Shaw tilts his head, looking me up and down.

Shaw: You sure we’re not at the wrong place?

I nod my head.

MC: How is it? I already said you definitely wouldn’t expect it.

Shaw arches his brows, a somewhat surprised expression in his eyes.

Shaw: When did you get a new hobby?

Not giving Shaw a direct response, I lift my hand, raising my phone to his face. The picture on the screen features the string of wood carved persimmons I made in the game.

MC: Look at this string of persimmons. I carved it bit by bit in the game. Looks good, doesn’t it? I plan to carve a replica based on this later.

Shaw leans closer to give it a sweeping glance, his expression a little subtle.

Shaw: ...the object in the picture isn’t too bad. But do you like it that much that you must carve a string of persimmons?

MC: Don’t underestimate this small string of persimmons. Slow work yields fine products. The smaller something is, the more patience and carving skills are tested. Also, this is the first wood carving I made in the game. Furthermore, “everything will go according to one’s wishes” is a wonderful message and well-wish. Making it myself will feel very meaningful.

[Note] For the translation of “everything will go according to one’s wishes”, What MC says is “柿柿如意”, which is a pun based on the popular well-wish “事事如意” (“everything will go according to one’s wishes”)

“Persimmon” is 柿 (“shi”). “Everything” is 事事 (“shi shi”)

Shaw: But based on the level of complexity, you can’t make it without having a foundation in carving.

Predicting that Shaw would say this, I make a fist, lifting my head up confidently.

MC: Don’t underestimate me. I think I’m naturally talented in handwork. If I can make it in the game, I might be able to in reality.

Hearing my “lofty aspirations”, the corners of Shaw’s lips hook upwards, and he elongates the tail of his sentence coolly.

Shaw: Fine, I’ll wait and see.

Probably because it’s the lunch break, only the boss is in the shop.

After telling the boss my purpose in coming, he very quickly prepares the wooden block and burin, then comprehensively explains some matters I should take note of.

[Trivia] A burin (刻刀 - “ke dao”) is a handheld steel tool used for carving metal or wood

MC: Draw a design first, then trace a copy onto the wooden block, then...

Hearing me mumble to myself, Shaw can’t help but arch his brows.

Shaw: It’s no use simply memorising the steps. You’ve got to get started to get the feel of it.

...that make sense.

Very soon, I successfully draw a design based on the picture. However, I keep sensing that something’s missing when I look at the picture of the string of persimmons in my hand.

Darting a glance at Shaw, who occasionally looks at the drawing paper in my hand, I turn my body to the side, displaying the drawing paper in front of him.

MC: Shaw, didn’t you brag about being the “best in hand-drawn sketches” in your department? Want to take a look and make adjustments for me?

[Note] For those who are unaware, Shaw is the only graduate student in the archaeological department of Loveland University, so... of course he’s the best in everything LOL

Shaw’s brows arch slightly. Grabbing a pen on the table casually, he starts making amendments quickly.

Shaw: Done.

Unexpectedly, with just a few strokes, the fullness and lushness of the persimmons are outlined, and the entire picture instantly becomes much more vibrant.

Once all the preparatory work is done, the next step is to saw the sides of the wood carving. Placing the wooden block on the machine, I test out suitable positions.

All of a sudden, Shaw presses on my hand.

Shaw: Didn’t the boss mention that it’d be safer to place it a little beyond the peripheral line?

While saying this, he pulls on my wrist, causing the wooden block to shift to the side slightly. After verifying that it’s in the right place, he releases my hand.

Wood carving in real life is much more difficult than I imagined. The more I tell myself to be calm, the more my hands refuse to obey.

I take a deep breath -

Shaw: Tch, aren’t you going a little too fast?

Right after he finishes speaking, my hand suddenly trembles, and I saw a small hole into the wooden block.

Shaw pauses for a few seconds, then bursts into laughter mercilessly.

He leans over, pointing at the small hole, his eyes gloating over my misfortune.

Shaw: Heh. Did someone take a bite out of the persimmon? It’s actually pretty creative.

Faced with Shaw’s mockery, I pout without saying anything. Then, I mimic his usual tone and glare at him.

MC: Why are you laughing so loudly? My hearing is good, okay.

Shaw casually props himself on the table with his elbows. He turns his head to the side and watches me, eyes filled with interest and a smile.

Perhaps because we’re too close in proximity, I seem to feel his warmth encasing my surroundings.

Smelling the scent of peppermint at the tip of my nose, I subconsciously turn away, muttering softly.

MC: Stop crowding over here... it’s a little warm.

The corners of Shaw’s eyes lift upwards slightly, and he sweeps a gaze over my face. He chuckles, sitting down on the chair behind in a wilful manner.

Not long after, I painstakingly saw the overall outer shape of the wooden block. After that, I start using a chisel to carefully craft the outline and thickness.

Probably because I’m unfamiliar with the techniques, the thickness of both sides of the wood carving are very different despite me putting in a lot of effort into correcting it.

I steal a glance at Shaw who is behind. After some hesitation, I clear my throat.

MC: Erm, could you help me with a little something?

Shaw loosens his shoulders.

Shaw: You want my help?

MC: Since you look like you don't have much to do, why not adjust the thickness of the outline with me?

Shaw doesn’t respond immediately. He folds his arms and leans against the wall, both legs placed casually.

Beneath the sunlight of the scorching afternoon sun, the corners of his lips tilt upwards, revealing a mischievous smile.

Shaw: Someone made a solemn vow earlier that she could do it by herself. So, in order for you to experience this fully, I refuse.

I don’t even spare Shaw half a glance after this, heart sinking as I lower my head in silence, focusing on the wood carving alone.

Perhaps grasping some tricks, my actions are gradually much more proficient than before, despite slow improvement.

The doors to the shop are suddenly pushed open. A parent walks in with a little boy.

The boss greets the new customers. Shaw suddenly lifts his arm and waves, walking over to the boss.

Shaw: Boss, give me a burin too.

Thinking that Shaw was suddenly “pricked by his conscience” and is planning to help, I lift my head to look at him in anticipation.

Unexpectedly, after getting the burin, Shaw picks up the leftover linden wood that I had sawed off earlier.

He stands near the window, lifting his hand leisurely. Against the light, that head of bluish purple hair is even more eye-catching.

Shaw: It’s boring to wait. I’ll try it with you, and give you some competitive motivation.

He reveals a confident smile, his tone not at all humble.

Shaw: I’ll also show you what it means to be “naturally talented”.

Shaw deliberately sits down at a table that’s further away from me.

Seeing that my gaze continues to linger on him, Shaw lifts his eyes, asking teasingly.

Shaw: Why are you staring at me?

MC: ...you already know the answer. Also, you’re pretending to be mysterious. What exactly do you plan to carve?

Shaw: You want to know? All the more reason not to tell you.

With this, he lowers his head, the tip of the pen making rustling sounds. He’s likely drawing a design on the rough paper.

Pursing my lips with a “hmph”, I decide to throw myself into crafting the wood carving.

Just as I strive to painstakingly carve the appearance of the wood carving, the little boy who accompanied his parent here seems to be restless.

He runs around the shop, and finally scuttles to Shaw’s side.

Little Boy: Big Bro, your hair’s really cool!

Shaw releases a “hmph”, paying no attention to the boy. But the little boy is fearless, and continues curiously.

Little Boy: Big Bro, what are you carving?

Unintentionally hearing this, I hurriedly perk up my ears, turning my body towards Shaw secretly.

Shaw glances at the boy from the side, placing the prototype wood carving on the table and leaning it from side to side.

Shaw: Make a guess.

The boy stares at it for a while, then exclaims excitedly.

Little Boy: I see it now - it’s a fish! Big Bro, did I guess correctly?

Shaw doesn’t deny it, revealing an expression which says “you’re pretty knowledgeable”.

Shaw: [aww he sounds so affectionate] Little Imp, your eyesight isn’t bad.

Little Boy: But why do you want to carve a fish?

The boy doesn’t seem to understand, and is also slightly disdainful.

Little Boy: Fishes are so unimpressive. If it were me, I’d carve a big tiger. It’s the king of all creatures, and it’s so impressive!

While the boy speaks, he chuckles in satisfaction.

Shaw laughs, then purses his lips.

Shaw: A wooden carved fish is much more interesting than your big tiger.

The boy has an expression on his face which reads “nonsense”. Shaw casts a sidelong glance at him, scoffing softly.

Shaw: Forget it. You wouldn't understand even if I told you.

Little Boy: Who says I wouldn’t understand? I’ve already learnt many things!

The boy grumbles in dissatisfaction, his arms akimbo, pestering Shaw unflinchingly.

I try my best to control the smile at the corners of my lips, and suddenly have an idea. Clearing my throat, I pretend to be a bystander, inserting myself into the conversation.

MC: What this little boy said is correct. Young man, you can’t look down on others just because you’re older by a few years.

Little Boy: Hmph! That’s right!

My “encouragement” enables the boy to be even less willing to back down, and he purses his small mouth.

Shaw: Oh?

Hearing my response, Shaw lifts his eyes, a mischievous smile curling the corners of his lips upwards.

Shaw: What is it? You also want to know?

MC: Since you started it, it’s only right for you to talk about it more.

Shaw: Since the both of you are pretty eager to learn, I’ll broaden your knowledge.

Next to the window, the rays of light are bright. Shaw arches his brows wilfully.

Shaw: To put it simply, this is related to the history of “fish culture”. Since ancient times, fish have represented auspicious signs and well-wishes.

Little Boy: I know about this! Is this how people wish each other “may you have abundance year after year”? I heard my teacher mentioning it before. It’s because “鱼” and “余” are homophonic!

[Note] The well-wish the boy is referring to is “年年有鱼”, which is a pun based on the proper saying “年年有余”

“Fish” is 鱼 (“yu”), while 余 (also “yu”) means abundance

Shaw: In that case, your teacher only told you half of it.

Shaw fiddles with the burin in his hand, spinning it casually.

Shaw: Fishes are an embodiment of luck. Patterns of fish can often be seen on antiques.

MC: What’s the origin of wooden carved fishes then?

Shaw pauses for a second before responding.

Shaw: Over seven thousand years ago, the most ancient wooden carved fishes were in the Hemudu culture. Based on conjectures, they were likely used for praying and well-wishes.

[Trivia] The Hemudu culture was a Neolithic culture spanning from 5500 BC to 3300 BC, located south of the Hangzhou Bay in Jiangnan in Zhejiang, China

Shaw speaks indifferently, but the boy listens at the side, his eyes wide.

Little Boy: Big Bro, you really know a lot! You’re even more incredible than my teacher!

The corners of Shaw’s lips hook upwards with pride.

Shaw: I guess so. Little Imp, remember to read more books and learn properly.

The boy runs away contentedly. My gaze lands on the wooden carving in Shaw’s hand that I can’t see quite clearly yet.

I didn’t expect the wooden carved fish to have the same symbolism as the string of persimmons. I tilt my head, feeling slightly emotional.

Time flows by as the seconds and minutes pass. Before realising it, the sky dims, and the studio lights are bright.

Swinging my hands which have almost lost all physical strength, I release a long sigh.

At the other side of the table, Shaw lifts his chin towards me.

Shaw: Progress isn’t going smoothly?

Looking at the half-finished product with uneven contours next to my hand, I shake my head a little despondently.

MC: Looks like I won’t be able to finish it today, and would have to come back next time. Also, the actual wood carving is light-years away from what I expected...

Hearing my soft grumbling at the end, Shaw arches his brows.

Shaw: Just by looking at it, the string of persimmons isn’t easy to make. But you dug this pit yourself, so I’ll wait and watch you fill it up.

Ignoring the teasing tone in his voice, I purse my lips.

MC: I definitely won’t give up. What about you? Are you done with the carving?

Shaw has an expression which reads “of course”, and he nods unhesitatingly.

Shaw: It was done a long time ago.

I’m stunned for a moment, both surprised and curious.

One hand supports Shaw’s cheek lightly. With a stretch of his long arm, the wooden carved fish is brought before my eyes.

This is a bright coloured wood carving of a fish. It has a roundish head and a chubby belly, and looks extremely adorable.

I lift up the wooden fish sculpture with both hands, as though instantly struck by its adorable shape.

Shaw: Excellent workmanship with profound symbolism. Your goal has been overtaken by me.

Behind the table, Shaw arches his brows in satisfaction, casually twisting the burin, his pose utterly flamboyant.

Even though his carving is indeed not bad, the moment I lift my eyes and see Shaw’s insuppressible pride, I can’t help but remain silent.

With the sudden impulse to sing a different tune, I deliberately purse my lips, speaking calmly.

MC: It’s just like this I guess. In terms of exquisiteness, I’d give a passing mark at most.

The smile on Shaw’s lips retracts slightly. While looking at me from the side, he releases a “hmph” from his nose.

Shaw: You have the nerve to criticise me? Why don’t you look at your own standard. Also, this is my exclusive design. It’s much more creative than you making a duplicate from the game.

Hearing the unwillingness to back down hidden in his tone, I can’t help but smile secretly.

Shaw glances at me indifferently. He seems to catch the secret smile on my lips, and an indiscernible light flashes across his eyes.

Shaw: Hey, shouldn’t you return it to me after touching it for half a day? You don’t like it anyway.

MC: Who says-

Almost making a slip of the tongue, I hurriedly change my words.

MC: Actually, on closer inspection, it seems that your carving is pretty okay.

Shaw: Just “okay”?

MC: ...I’ll add one mark for its symbolism and origin then.

Pleased with this, Shaw rolls his shoulders, chuckling softly.

Shaw: You still have some taste.

He crosses his leg over the other, his eyebrows suddenly furrowing. He seems to blurt out what’s in his mind.

Shaw: But the head of this fish seems a little too round... Hm, it’s a little irksome. Looks like I need to make some corrections.

MC: No it isn’t? It looks just right like this!

Afraid that Shaw would snatch it back, I hurriedly fold my hands over the wooden carving, and notice a hint of slyness in his eyes.

He leans closer abruptly, instantly closing the distance between us.

Shaw: Looking at your posture... What is it? Can’t bear to return it?

Specks of bright light reminiscent of daytime dance on Shaw’s bluish purple hair, outlining his expression and making it look even more triumphant.

I blink my eyes.

MC: Since you’re already done, I think I should observe it for a while longer, and have some “luck” rubbed off on me. I might even be able to quickly and successfully finish my wood carving too.

Shaw turns his head, the corners of his lips turning upwards relaxedly. A pondering smile surfaces in his bright eyes.

Shaw: You’ve got taste. If you really like it, it’s not that I can’t give it to you.

My heart stirs, eyes widening as I look at him. But I have the feeling that there should be a second half to his sentence.

Shaw leans back relaxedly, stretching casually.

Shaw: But I need to make up for the costs.

...just as I guessed.

Cradling the wooden carving in my hand, I lift my chin towards Shaw.

MC: Go on, what’s the “fee”?

Shaw lowers his head, pretending to deliberate for a few seconds. Then, he lifts his eyes, meeting mine.

Shaw: When you’re done with your wooden carving...

Shaw: It belongs to me.

[Note] There are actually two ways one can interpret this line because it’s kept purposefully vague. It’s simply “归我”, which means “belong to me”. This means we can’t be sure if he’s asking for the wooden carving or MC herself :>

Shaw: How is it? Isn’t it very fair?

Light falls on the tips of Shaw’s hair, reflecting a bright and sly smile in his eyes.

Before I can react, he has already stood up.

Shaw: All right, that’s how it’d be.

🐟 Phone call: here

🐟 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

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roxzania · 3 years

Text

Chest Binders

This is for people who are thinking about getting a chest binder, just got one and are unsure, or people who have had one and just like to hear about this stuff.

| My DNI List | (mobile version) |

The Basics: - Don't bind with tape, bandages, and wraps. Use only edited camisoles/tank-tops that are not going to be tight and are comfortable (which doesn't give the same effect, but is a safe option until a chest binder is available). But it's most recommended to get a binder from a good company that knows what they're doing and has a good reputation. - Don't bind while you sleep and avoid doing so while working out. I personally recommend less than 8 hours, some people can do up to 12. But that can be risky and you should give a few days rest after a long binding session. Don't bind every day (if your doing often, set up at least 3 days of rest), give yourself a break because there are effects for certain types of usage. - Make sure to get the right fit, never round down when it comes to measurements. Also, read a little bit to get an idea of the size accuracy of the binders. More detailed info and stuff here.

That's some important information! But there is some stuff I do wanna talk about, particularly from my own experience. Now, my experience is obviously different from some people's and that needs to be understood from the beginning. Cause every body is different and everyone has a different goal for their physical appearance.

A little background; I'm genderfluid and I mostly lean towards a non-binary and sometimes a feminine appearance. So, I don't wear a binder often unless I really feel like it. But typically, I wear it only when I want to go out or feel dysphoric. I got my binder from gc2b about a year and a half ago (don't remember exactly). Overall, I loved having one of such great quality. The only problem is my body size. I'm on the bigger size (chubby) and I don't mind, but it is hard to find the perfect size when it comes to clothing. When you're purchasing a binder, you must measure with a measuring tape so you know the measurements you should be looking for. Most sites should provide the measurement ranges for different sections that are relevant to the binder! Thankfully, gc2b offers large sizes and I was able to find the perfect size that wasn't tight. But... with being a measurement range there is a possibility that a binder may seem "a little big", especially if you're on the lower range of the measurement range they provide for each size. Of course, no one really talks about that so I'm going to talk about that.

I was just barely above the measurement range for the size below the one I ended up getting. When I got my binder, it remained me more of a crop-top shirt. But I knew if I went smaller I wouldn't have fit in it. I was between it fitting and being loose, which felt a little weird and it did make me feel a little down at first since I was really hoping to get the flat effect. So this experience I found no one really ever talked about. And I feel like it should be discussed a little more since it does happen to some people. And it was kinda hard to figure out what to do to fix this little problem I was having. The first solution I saw was editing or "hemming" the binder. Basically to make it less loose to fit more, however, my main concern with that was "what if that accidentally made it tight". Because all it needed was a small edit and sometimes small edits go further than intended. Plus, that kind of editing takes a skill that no one I knew (and felt comfortable talking about this with), knew how to do this type of thing. So, that solution is helpful for some but what about the others? As someone who has minimal sewing skills, I had to find something else. The last solution that would actually work, was taking a thin similar-in-length shirt/bra (without wires or compression material) and wear it underneath the binder. I adore loose and lightweight clothing and this kind of helped with the rough material of the binder too! It was just enough addition to make the binder fit perfectly, it was soooo perfect! It made the flat effect better and I no longer had scratch material right on top of my skin. I highly recommend these two solutions if you're dealing with an in-between sizes problem like I did. The simple non-editing one especially, since you don't need to edit the binder in case you gain weight or are still growing. It also helps with rough material if you're sensitive to that. Just make sure to not wear any compression material underneath, binders are already made of compression material. Doubling compression material does not make the effect better and can be very risky.

If you haven't bought a binder yet or plan to get another and had the same problem; maybe try cross-referencing size charts to limit this in-between sizes mess from happening. I would have done this if I had known this could happen, but I will do this in the future for when I need a new binder -Roxzania💙

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

Text

chapter 20

Fake Making-It

Social Media AU

previous chapter

~^~

Jens opens the door either a moment too soon or a moment too late. Sander and Lucas are already standing outside, as he’d thought, and are deep in conversation. Jens stands frozen in the doorway and waits for them to notice him. In that time, he takes in Lucas’s frown and Sander’s comforting hand on his shoulder. Lucas had been speaking before Jens opened the door, then he cut himself off abruptly.

Now they’re both staring at him. Silent.

Jens takes in the tension laced through Lucas and the frustration obvious in his face and feels nerves bubble up in him. He thought he had come prepared today, but now he’s doubting himself. He swallows as Lucas meets his eyes, but miraculously manages not to look away. They’re sort of friends, now, right? They’ve come a long way since their first meeting, at least. He doesn’t have to be so anxious. One simple look from Lucas should not tear his stomach to shreds.

It’s a little nerve-wracking, however, when Lucas slips away from Sander’s hand and brushes past Jens without a word.

Jens twists his head to look after him for a moment, then turns back to Sander and tries not to appear too awkward or concerned. “Everything okay?” he carefully asks.

Sander is still looking after Lucas, seeming pained, and then he looks at Jens and blinks. “Yeah, of course,” he smiles. “Sorry, we’re a little late.”

Nothing about this is very convincing. Jens wouldn’t consider himself a people expert, and he’s especially not overly familiar with Sander, but even he can tell that his smile is a little forced and his body strung a little too tight. He doesn’t think they were fighting. It didn’t even really seem like they were arguing.

But there’s definitely a shared tension between them. Jens doesn’t understand why this makes him simultaneously curious and more anxious.

“You’re fine,” he says, stepping back and beckoning Sander in, shutting the door behind him.

They’re using the front room in Jens’s apartment as a studio space. He hadn’t thought much ahead before offering it up, but Sander had barely paid attention when he first showed up and gave Jens no reason to fret. He hadn’t really cared what Sander would think either way.

He may have taken a little extra care this morning. (Or in the last hour, after waking up late and proceeding to rush around like a mad man.) Robbe may have raised his brows at him in teasing surprise when he showed up, and it may have made Jens feel even more silly for being so nervous.

But no matter how friendly their texts seem to have gotten, Lucas is still very intimidating.

Jens has no idea how they’re supposed to interact in person, and it doesn’t help that Lucas already seems to be in a rather dull mood. He isn’t sure why he expects Sander to continue to try to do something about it. Instead the blond lingers back with him as Lucas greets Robbe, smiling now as Robbe offers him a bro-handshake. Jens lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding at the sight, feeling a smile of his own grow as Robbe immediately strikes up a friendly conversation with the other man.

It’s not that he’d been nervous about Robbe, but well, he imagines that it isn’t easy. He doesn’t know how Robbe does it.

Lucas is already shrugging his bag off his shoulder and pulling out his sketchbook and his camera. Jens feels anticipation bubble in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey,” he greets, once they’re close enough, and to his delight, Lucas glances up and offers him something like a smile. “Everything good?”

Robbe nods as Lucas says, “Yep. Or, well, depends. What’s the plan?”

He looks to Jens for direction, and Jens forces himself not to stutter, instead simply turning to Robbe for help.

“Uh, well,” Robbe thinks, glancing between them all before finally settling on Sander. Jens hopes he’s the only one who notices how Robbe’s cheeks flush. “You don’t urgently need to work with Jens today, do you?”

Sander blinks at him, then quickly shakes his head.

“Okay, well I filmed a little bit of your shoot with Jens the other day, and I’ve been thinking I could edit it into like a promo to sort of announce things before we release the actual pics? But I was hoping I could maybe get your opinion on it first.”

“That’s a really cool idea,” Sander says, brightening. The smile on his face appears much more genuine than before. Jens supposes that’s what a passion can do. He hopes it’ll have the same effect on Lucas.

Robbe looks to Lucas and then to him, smiling as well. “That’s if you guys are happy enough to work this out yourselves? I’m sure Lucas knows what he’s doing, and I mean we’ll just be here if you want another opinion on anything.”

Jens raises his brows as Lucas glances at him.

Lucas offers Robbe a nod and a smile. “Sounds good.”

Jens notes that he doesn’t speak to or even glance at Sander as Robbe guides him to the small table in the corner while Jens and Lucas remain at the island. Jens hesitantly takes a seat, then gestures for Lucas to do the same, trying to remind himself to be both chill and professional. He’s usually able to manage it at meetings. Maybe it’s being in his home that makes it feel a little more personal.

“Hi,” he repeats, watching Lucas’s concentrated frown as he skims through his sketchbook.

Lucas looks up at him and seems, again, vaguely amused. “Hi.” He skims his gaze over Jens, tilting his head curiously. “Are you always this nervous?”

No, Jens thinks. Just with you.

“Sometimes,” he says.

Lucas huffs, smiling now as he looks back down. “Don’t be. I’m the one preparing to be criticised this time.”

“You were very intimidating last time we spoke.”

“Because I told you to watch it?” Lucas raises a brow at him.

Jens blanks, then remembers their text conversation from yesterday and flushes. “No, I mean, the last time we actually spoke. At the first meeting.”

“Ah.” Lucas nods. “In person. That usually makes me less intimidating.”

“Why?” Jens’s brow furrows.

Lucas raises his brows again and gestures at himself. Jens takes him in. His curls are as artfully styled as ever, falling over his forehead in messy waves, and below that his eyes are a stunning blue. He’s wearing another loose shirt, this time black with a light floral pattern. Jens can see the collar of a tee poking out underneath. Along with that, Lucas is wearing skin-tight jeans and shiny black boots along with his usual assortment of jewelry, rings adorning his fingers and silver bracelet glinting from his wrist. Jens wonders if any of them are gifts from Sander.

“I don’t get it,” Jens says. He means it. Lucas is beautiful. He looks like the true model here. It’s part of what intimidates Jens so much.

Lucas wiggles his fingers at him, showing off dark purple nails, then flexes a skinny arm. “Very intimidating, I imagine.”

Jens frowns. “You don’t need to be brawny to be intimidating. Honestly, I think I’m probably more intimidated by pretty people. Especially when they’re confident.”

Lucas stares at him for a minute, and Jens must imagine the flush on his cheeks, because then he snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, you basically just described yourself.”

Jens grins in surprise, but before he can say anything else, Lucas is spinning his sketchbook around and shoving it towards him, then digging back into his bag. Jens drags his gaze away and down to the paper in front of him. It’s littered in designs, different emblems and patterns interlocking across the double page. There are a few combinations of his initials, which he supposes also work well with a self-titled album. As much as Jens felt creative with words in the songwriting process, naming the songs and especially the album had been a frustratingly difficult task, so much so that he’d eventually just settled on JENS.

Robbe has been very skeptical, but Jens’s label seemed to think it was a good choice, and that was good enough for him. It wasn’t about the names or the titles, anyway.

Lucas seems to have also recognised this, and there are some heavy references to the actual music in some of the sketches. Lucas has sprinkled waves and rain and other forms of water throughout some of the designs, or focused on them entirely. Along with that are cages and chains, locks and keys, and beautiful wings.

Jens instantly falls in love with all of them, and then turns the page only to find more. He lets out a long breath. “How much time did this take you?”

He looks up in time to see Lucas shrug. He’s now staring down at an iPad. “Not that long. I might’ve stayed up a little longer than I should have, though.” He shrugs again, and now Jens believes the flush crawling up his neck has to be real. “The album gave me a lot of ideas.”

Jens nods. He hovers his fingers over some of the sketches, leaning down to admire them in closer detail.

Lucas makes a small sound of triumph, and then slides the iPad on top of the sketchbook. “I did a few out then on some rough clothing sketches, just to get an idea what they’d look like brought to life and put together. This doesn’t take that long, so if there’s any ideas you’d like me to group or something we could spend a while messing around with that. Or as long as you tell me, I can do it when I go home.”

“Everything is amazing.” Jens shakes his head, awed. He blows out another breath and laughs slightly as he looks up at Lucas. “I don’t know how you expect me to choose anything. None of these should be left out. Fuck, this one’s amazing.” He taps his finger on a sketch of drooped wings encased in a golden birdcage. He takes the iPad and lets Lucas draw the sketchbook back towards himself to examine, humming quietly in agreement.

He knew Lucas was talented. He’d gone after him for that exact reason. But seeing how quickly he’s managed to create all of this, how easily he’d brought the images in Jens’s words to life—he’s in awe. As well as that, he’s managed to implement the designs onto hoodies and t-shirts and sweatpants and hats and everything in between. Excitement floods through Jens at the prospect of getting to wear one himself, never mind seeing such items on anyone else. He smiles secretly to himself as he imagines Lucas donning a sweatshirt with his initials embroidered on the chest.

He doubts Lucas would ever sacrifice his beloved reputation to such an extent, or like Jens that much in the first place, but he’s allowed to dream.

“Yeah, I’m never going to be able to choose. I’m so sorry for making this more difficult but you’re just—this is just too good.” Jens shakes his head, still scrolling through the different images, and Lucas huffs.

“I didn’t expect you to be such a suck-up,” Lucas teases.

Jens looks up at him, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes. Then he lets his expression turn earnest and shrugs. “I’m telling the truth, like I hope you did with me.” He’d been relieved, and pleased, when Lucas had given such a kind review of his album yesterday. It was almost hard to believe. He’d instantly gone and listened to the third and last songs again, the ones Lucas had said were his favourite, and had a smile on his face for the rest of the day.

Lucas’s smile slips now, and some of Jens’s nerves come back. Lucas clears his throat and snaps his sketchbook closed, setting it aside so he can pull his camera towards him. “We can ask Robbe for his opinion, later? It might help. Even if you’re just able to rule things out together.”

Jens suddenly remembers his best friend only a few feet away, and Lucas’s boyfriend with him, and quickly glances over his shoulder. He’s been doing well, every other day, at keeping an eye on them. He knows how easily Robbe could get hurt or upset, no matter how much he protests that he’s getting over his crush perfectly fine. Jens knows it’s far from the truth, both because he knows the full capacity of Robbe’s feelings and because it must be ten times harder to get over someone you see every day. He knows Robbe avoids contacting Sander now outside of work as much as he can. He knows it isn’t easy, and he’s been doing his best to provide a comforting buffer.

Now, though, he turns around just in time for Robbe to start giggling as Sander talks animatedly. Robbe is staring at his laptop screen instead of Sander, and his cheeks are flushed, but he’s smiling wide. Not upset, not yet, but quite possibly digging himself into a hole. Sander, at least, appears oblivious, happy and excited as he makes a dozen hand gestures and leans farther across the table to get a better look.

“Yeah, we’ll do that when they’re done,” he agrees, shooting a smile back at Lucas.

Lucas is watching Robbe and Sander, too, the furrow back between his brows. Jens remembers the sour mood that he’d arrived in, the tension between him and Sander, and resists asking if everything is okay. He’s told Robbe enough times, when he was mourning over Sander, that it’s none of their business. He shouldn’t be the one to butt in now.

He gently hands Lucas’s iPad back to him instead, then raises his brows. “Meanwhile, do you want a snack? Or something to drink?”

Lucas smiles at him. “Oh, he remembers to be a good host.”

Jens pulls a face at him. His heart flutters when Lucas actually laughs in response. “Five seconds and I retract my offer,” he threatens.

“Water would be nice, maybe,” Lucas acquiesces instantly. “And if you have any chocolate, I won’t say no.”

“Huh, sweet tooth. Noted.” Jens winks at him, pushing to his feet and glancing back at the other two co-workers. “Sander, can I get you anything?”

Sander quickly looks at him and shakes his head, and his eyes slide on over to Lucas and he tries for a smile. Lucas either truly misses it or pretends not to notice.

Jens bites down his questions once more. “Robbe?” He waits for his friend to shake his head and then goes to fetch water and chocolate for Lucas. A few minutes later, when Lucas has eaten half of the biscuits on the plate Jens had left out and is taking a sip of his water, Jens decides on a safer line of interrogation. “So, how many times did you actually end up listening to the album?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Those two times. And then the first few songs again because Sander joined me and he’d missed those.” Lucas pauses, blinking at Jens with wide eyes. “I hope that’s okay.”

Jens waves him off. “Yeah, obviously. I don’t expect you to keep anything from Sander, especially when you share a room.” He raises a brow. Lucas doesn’t react. “Besides, you both signed the contracts. Sander’s in our trust, too.”

“Okay,” Lucas nods, smiling slightly again. Jens’s chest warms. “That’s good, then.”

Jens smiles back at him, and they sit in silence for a moment, considering each other. Jens realises Lucas’s attention isn’t making him as anxious anymore. Their texting relationship seems to have actually carried over into real life, and he’s relieved.

Lucas takes another sip of his water and then grabs his camera again. “How do you feel about doing a practice shoot? I might even be able to mess around and edit some of the designs onto you then. Plus it’ll be a lot easier when the time comes if I’m already familiar with you and your angles and the lighting and everything.” Lucas waves a hand.

Jens bites down his smile and nods in acceptance. “Okay, sure. Just tell me where you want me.”

It turns out his nerves aren’t entirely gone. It’s different, when he’s sitting on a stool and Lucas is focusing entirely on how he looks. It’s different when there’s a camera pointed at him and Lucas is the one behind it. He doesn’t want to mess up. He doesn’t want to frustrate Lucas, and he doesn’t want to look like an idiot.

It turns out this makes the whole process more difficult.

“Are you always this tense?” Lucas asks, vaguely concerned, and Jens’s shoulders tense further. Lucas sighs. “Don’t act so much like you’re posing. Just, do whatever feels comfortable.”

Jens wriggles on the stool. He draws a leg up. Puts it back down again. He leans forward to rest his arms on his knees and almost falls off the stool, which is too high for that position to work. He leans back and crosses his ankles, tucking his hands in his pockets.

Lucas snaps a photo, then considers it with a frown. He examines Jens again. “Maybe spread your legs?” He suggests.

Jens instantly raises his brows and smirks slightly, just to see Lucas rolls his eyes and set an unimpressed hand on his hip. Jens relents and spreads his legs, planting his feet and letting his hands dangle between his knees.

Lucas takes another photo and stares at it for a moment. Then he says, “How about we go outside?”

Jens blinks at him. “Why?”

“Because if you’re just walking around, not posing, I might get something more natural. I can tell you’re not feeling this.”

Lucas isn’t exactly wrong. The only thing Jens is feeling right now is sick. He’s twitchy and his stomach keeps rolling and Lucas’s gaze is too intense. He can’t sit still. Maybe it will help if he doesn’t have to.

“You’re the expert,” he says. “I can go wherever you want me.”

Lucas shakes his head. “No. Wherever you want. Somewhere you’re a little more in your element.”

Jens thinks, then nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Lucas grins, letting his camera settle around his neck. He moves back to the island and collects the coat he’d abandoned there, the same denim jacket with the fluffy collar he’d worn the first time they’d met. He slides his arms into the sleeves and turns to the other two men in the flat, clicking his fingers once to get their attention. “We’re going out to take some photos. Do you two wanna come with?”

Jens doesn’t know if he wants them to. The possibility of being alone with Lucas is terrifying and thrilling all at once. He decides this thought in itself is enough to make up his mind. He shoots a panicked, pleading look at Robbe, but Robbe is already looking at Lucas and nodding his head. He doesn’t seem to notice Sander’s frown.

“Yeah, sure,” Robbe agrees, and Jens lets out a breath of relief. He supposes his friend likely doesn’t want to be left here alone with Sander, either. “Where are we going?”

“Wherever Jens wants.” Lucas fiddles with his camera for a moment. “He needs to chill.”

Robbe raises his brows as Sander blinks. There’s a hint of a laugh in Robbe’s tone. “Jens needs to chill?”

“He’s always been chill with me,” Sander agrees, confused.

Lucas looks up to blink at them, then at Jens, amused. “Do I scare you that much?”

Jens flushes and pointedly ignores Robbe’s giggle. “No. I’m just, stressed. We’re releasing the first music video and announcing the album in two weeks and I’m very aware of all the things that could go wrong and how shitty I’ll probably feel.”

That shuts them up fairly quickly. Sander simply offers a sympathetic smile and Lucas’s expression softens as he seems to search for something to say. It’s Robbe, however, who raises to his feet and grabs Jens by the shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. “You won’t. It’ll be amazing, and we’re going to spend the entire day celebrating. Right now, Lucas is right. We should go out and have fun.”

“You definitely need it,” Lucas agrees, tilting his head towards the door, brows raised.

“Come on.” Robbe slaps his shoulder. “Skate park? It’s been a long time.”

Jens sucks in a breath, then slowly lets it out as he nods. They spend a moment collecting coats, keys, and boards, and then Jens ushers them all out and locks the door behind them. Robbe leads the way outside and down the sidewalk, and Jens half hopes Lucas will instantly rope him into conversation and start giving orders. Instead Sander slips an arm over Lucas’s shoulders and speaks to him quietly, and after a moment Lucas is nodding and leaning into his side.

Jens looks away and catches Robbe’s gaze, then falls into step alongside his best friend, bumping his shoulder. “Okay?” he asks quietly.

Robbe gives him a tight smile and a nod and Jens ruffles his hair.

The skatepark is relatively empty, but the people who are there continuously sneak glances at the group, whispering and grinning between themselves. Jens sees a guy pointing his phone at them. This isn’t entirely unusual, but it doesn’t help him destress.

“Just ignore them,” Robbe reminds him. “But be aware I’m gonna post a few stories because people are starting to ask if you’ve died.”

Jens rolls his eyes, but he does his best to listen. He looks to Lucas first, who merely waves his hand in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. He realises soon that it does help. It’s been a while since he’s skated, but it still loosens him up like it used to, still gets his blood rushing and allows him a few moments of freedom. He flips off Robbe’s phone and winks at Lucas’s camera and doesn’t really allow himself to think about either, or the way Sander is watching over Lucas’s shoulder and occasionally directing him, both of them smiling and bickering now.

He finally rejoins them and plops himself down on top of the half pipe, where Lucas immediately comes to kick at his thigh. “Weird question, but can I have a go?”

Jens blinks up at him, noticing how he’s rocking on his heels with barely constrained energy, and raises his brows. “Skating?”

“Yeah?” Lucas raises his eyebrows back. “Is that a no?”

“Uh, no, go for it. I mean, if you can.”

Lucas huffs, carefully setting his camera and his jacket on the ground next to Jens before picking up his board. He plants it at the top of the ramp, a foot balancing it on the edge, and cocks an eyebrow at Jens again before he’s racing down the ramp with a wave.

Jens stares after him, astonished, as he navigates the park on Jens’s board with ease. He barely notices Robbe and Sander sitting down with him until Sander wolf-whistles and Lucas flips him off as he passes. Jens feels something thrum in his stomach as he watches Lucas and can’t quite figure out what it is.

When Lucas finally comes to a stop below them, flicking his hair off his forehead, Jens gives an exaggerated clap. Lucas simply grins up at him, eyes considering as he holds the board up for Jens to take, then requests, “Pass me my camera?”

Jens does so without question, and Lucas’s lips curl as he looks up at him and then snaps a photo. “I just have to capture the utter shock and awe on your face right now.”

Jens sets a hand on his thigh and stares down at him, unimpressed, but his brow furrows slightly as the camera goes off again.

Lucas takes it away from his face and examines the image he’d taken, pursing his lips slightly. “Not bad. Who knew you could actually be sort of photogenic.”

Jens pulls a face at him as he grins and draws himself up next to Sander, who immediately leans in to look at the photos he’s taken. Lucas doesn’t hesitate to lean towards him, this time, and then he’s laughing at whatever Sander says, turning towards him with a dazzling smile Jens hasn’t seen yet. Their faces are so close they could kiss.

Robbe seems to have the same thought and looks away, showing Jens his hurt expression for an instant before focusing steadily out at the skatepark, his pinched lips the only visible sign of jealousy.

Jens has to look away, too, and finds himself mimicking the expression. It’s only then that he recognises the heavy feeling in his own stomach as the same emotion. He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before. Jealousy has never been foreign to him.

He darts another glance at Lucas, in shock and slowly expanding terror, and notes how his heart flutters and then pinches as he throws his head back and laughs and Sander reaches out and fixes his hair for him.

Oh, fuck.

~^~

tag list: @allthewayornowayy @wedarkacademia @lockerfivethreefive @yellowballoon @gucciboner @nora-keinwitz @moonskam @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @akucecilia @hischbabe @evaksobbe @alittleemo @boring-side-effect @franboos

next chapter

#wtfock #skam nl #sobbe #robbe x sander #van der stoffels #vds #fake making-it

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 12

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Surprise, a new chapter already! This one and the Chapter 11 were actually supposed to be one single chapter but we decided to cut it due to my inability to keep things short length. Hence, the same title with an addition and the consecutive days - just so you don't wonder. Also, in case anyone was confused by the timeframe reading Chapter 11, this supposed to be a flashback to when the whole thing between them started - sorry for not making this clear in the first place 💛

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Langague, mention of alcohol and drug abuse, mention of NSFW content

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

It's just the way that you walk

It's just the way that you talk

Like it ain't no thing

And every single day is just a fling

Then the morning comes

~ Smash Mouth - Then The Morning Comes ~

Lizzie woke the next morning to a painful pounding inside her head and a mouth as dry as dust. It took her a few moments to find her bearings; the light of the morning sun didn’t fall onto her bed like it did now, and neither did her sheets smell like Orion’s aftershave.

With that thought the memories of last night hit her like a freight train. Covering her eyes with her hand, she let her head slump back onto the pillow, a breathy chuckle leaving her parched throat. She certainly hadn’t expected that to happen when she had agreed to go to her first poetry slam with Orion. Saying she regretted sleeping with him would have been a blatant lie, though; it had been far too good for that.

Sitting up slowly, Lizzie stretched her back, rolling her neck from side to side; her head hurt like hell but it wasn’t as bad as she had anticipated. Orion seemed to be up already, which didn’t surprise her; Lizzie knew he was an early riser from the many years they had spent touring together.

Her eyes fell onto the nightstand and the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. A full bottle of water and a blister pack of painkillers were waiting for her there. Not sure what she was more grateful for, the meds or the water, Lizzie took a large gulp out of the bottle first before washing down one of the pills with a second, smaller sip; her mouth was so dry, she wasn’t even sure any of the water was reaching her stomach at all.

She sat between the sheets for a little longer, her back leaned against the rough brick wall. Taking small sips out of her bottle every now and again she contemplated last night’s events.

In a thousand years she wouldn’t have anticipated ending up in bed with Orion when all they’d had planned had been a night out together. And it wasn’t like she could blame it all on getting drunk and high out of her mind either; Lizzie was honest enough with herself to admit she’d always found him more than a little attractive, but so far, it had stopped for her at that.

The dreamcatcher hanging from the window frame directly above the bed was painting intricate shadows on the sheets. Lost in her thoughts, Lizzie watched them, trying to discern if she felt any different after spending the night with one of her best friends.

If she was completely honest with herself, the answer was no. Neither she nor her feelings towards Orion seemed to have changed in any way.

She shrugged the thought off and swung her legs out of the bed, standing up slowly in case her circulation was still funky. She grabbed her shorts from the ground where she had unceremoniously tossed them last night. Exchanging the shirt Orion had given her with her own top, she pulled a new hair tie from her pocket and pulled her tangled hair out of her face.

With the warm shirt and her hair gone from her bare shoulders, Lizzie noticed how cool the morning air felt against her skin. She grabbed the black hoodie she had borrowed yesterday from another place on the floor and put it on again. Following the soft sound of Orion’s guitar that was drifting down from the rooftop terrace, she climbed up the steps and through the open skylight.

Orion was sitting on the deckchair with his acoustic guitar in his hands, playing a melody Lizzie didn’t recognise. One of his countless notebooks was lying in front of him and she could spot a pencil being stuck behind his ear. Lizzie waited until he stopped playing to write something down before she walked over to him.

He looked up from his notes as she sat down on the end of the deckchair. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Lizzie smiled. She tilted her head, trying to catch a glimpse of what Orion was composing. “What was that you were playing?”

“Something new,” he smirked. He closed the notebook and carefully put his guitar away. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” Lizzie chuckled, “No wonder though…” She indicated the water bottle she was still holding, “Thanks for that, I didn’t even realise how thirsty I was.”

“That’s what smoking does to you,” Orion shrugged. “I got us some fruit from the market down the road for breakfast, if you want some.”

Lizzie had already spotted the huge plate laden with an assortment of colourful fruit on the table behind him. It was only now that she realised just how hungry she was. “How do you know that’s what I like for breakfast?”

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “We’ve been touring together for five years now, remember?”

Lizzie felt her cheeks go red. “Obviously. I can’t think before coffee.”

“I made you some, but no idea if it’s good,” Orion shrugged. “You know I don’t drink coffee myself.”

Lizzie made her way over to the table and poured herself a cup. “Then why do you have coffee in the first place?”

“Merula likes some when she’s here.”

She took her first sip after adding sugar and milk but even then the bitter taste was so overwhelmingly strong that Lizzie couldn’t help but grimace.

Orion watched her with a sympathetic expression. “Too strong?”

“A little,” Lizzie croaked, trying to wash the taste away with another sip of water.

“Sorry, that’s how Merula likes it.”

“No wonder she never laughs if her days start like this,” Lizzie replied sardonically.

Orion had to chuckle at her words. “Our tastes can mirror our personalities, that’s true; I wouldn’t tell her that, though.”

He raised his own mug that had been resting on the floor beside him. “If you don’t like the coffee, I can only offer you tea, I’m afraid.”

Gingerly pushing her coffee cup as far away from her as possible, Lizzie nodded gratefully. “I’d be fine with that.”

Lizzie was surprised at how relaxed and comfortable the atmosphere between them was; it was like having breakfast with her best friend, just like it always had.

None of them spoke about what had happened last night, nor did they feel the need to. Now, in the light of a new day, the fact that they had slept with each other seemed almost surreal. Lizzie was relieved to see that, just like her, Orion didn’t seem to have any issues with it whatsoever.

She had just picked out another cherry from the fruit platter when her phone started ringing, the familiar picture of Skye flashing across the screen. She motioned for Orion to be silent before accepting the call.

“What’s up, Skye?” she greeted her breezily.

Skye didn’t seem to share her good mood, however. “Where the fuck are you?”

“What?”

“We were meant to go running today? I’ve been waiting for a solid twenty minutes now.”

Lizzie mouthed a silent curse; she had completely forgotten about that. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I slept in, it got a little later yesterday than I expected.” She tried not to grin as her eyes flicked over to Orion.

“Oh yeah, how was the slam?”

Lizzie almost choked on her tea as she tried not to snort with laughter. “You want to know how the slam was?” she repeated Skye’s words, watching Orion cover his mouth with his hand as he, too, was trying very hard not to laugh.

“It was very good, thank you for asking. I got some whole new perspectives out of it.”

“Maybe I should come next time.”

“Oh, believe me,” Lizzie grinned, “it wouldn’t have been your thing at all.”

“Hm, if you say so. How about Orion? Haven’t seen him quite so excited about something in a long time.”

“Well, I think he had quite a good night,” she smirked, throwing her cherry at Orion as he was shaking with silent laughter.

“Anyway,” Skye sighed through the speaker, “what’s the deal now? Could be at your place in ten minutes.”

Lizzie racked her brain, trying to come up with a suitable excuse. “Uhm no, I’m actually not home right now.” Her gaze fell onto her cup of green tea. “I ran straight out of coffee this morning and I’m on the hunt for some.”

Luckily, Skye seemed to buy it. “Fine, want to meet for lunch later?”

“Make it dinner and I’m in,” Lizzie answered, “Say hi to Erika for me,” she couldn’t help but add with a wicked grin.

She could practically see Skye blushing, even through her phone. “What makes you think I’m with -”

But Lizzie had already hung up on her.

The laughter was still dancing in Orion’s eyes when he shook his head. “You’re truly evil, do you know that?”

Lizzie chuckled. “That’s not what you said last night.”

“Fair enough,” Orion conceded. “But I’m curious, why did you lie to her?”

“First of all, I didn’t lie; I just didn’t tell her all the details. It’s none of her business anyway.” The smile vanished from her face and Lizzie averted her eyes. “And besides, I don’t want her to get into a conflict because she’s hiding something from her father.”

She took a deep breath, the mood suddenly not at all relaxed anymore. “And about that…”

But Orion had already guessed what she wanted to say. “You want to keep this a secret.” It wasn’t a question but an observation.

“If that’s cool with you.”

To her relief, Orion nodded. “It suits me well. I agree with you, it’s no one’s business but our own. And a secret shared between friends can only serve to deepen the friendship.”

Lizzie nodded in agreement, glad to see they were on the same page about this. She finished her tea, popped another cherry into her mouth and got up to leave.

“Is it okay if I borrow that for today?” she asked, motioning at the sweater she was still wearing. It wasn’t cold by any means, but the sweater was cosy and soft, just what she needed on a hungover day like this. It smelled like something resembling ginger, a scent she found very pleasant.

Orion followed her inside and showed her to the door. Just as she was about to leave, he caught her wrist and held her back.

“Any chance for another kiss?”

Lizzie hesitated, looking at him apologetically. “Sorry, I don’t usually do that.” Her lips twisted into a sly smile as she added, “And you got way more than a kiss anyway.”

She turned to go, but changed her mind on a whim; standing on her tiptoes, Lizzie pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek.

“Maybe next time.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #rockstar au #orion amari #lizzie jameson #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

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starryeyedrogue · 3 years

Text

mental health & vent

again, a long one. please stick with me here.

tw: depression, anxiety, ptsd, epilepsy diagnosis, suicidal thoughts mention

hey everyone, like I said in my last post, I won’t be as active on here. this doesn’t mean I’m quitting by any means, I’m here for the long haul! I just need a break for a little bit.

side note: I am not in any way suicidal or practicing self harm. this is just to vent and act as a PSA for my mutuals/followers.

now onto my main message.

I’ve seen lots of posts about mental health lately, and I’m so incredibly proud of those who have spoken up. They’ve inspired me to make my own post, actually. normally I’d keep it to myself, but this time has been rough and I want to get it off my chest. I’ll probably delete this later, but still.

I’ve been depressed.

long story short, I had a very traumatic experience a couple years ago with an ex boyfriend (not going into it on this post, for details just dm me. not something I’d want to post publicly, this is just an explanation) and I was deeply depressed. I was never diagnosed “officially” because I was afraid to speak up, as this would expose what I was going through. I had really bad anxiety at that time too, and I still do. I also have PTSD flashbacks from it now and again. none of this was diagnosed, and I still don��t want to bring it up to my doctors/family. my irl friends don’t even know, at least not most of it.

I have monoclonic epilepsy, which means my seizures are fairly small. my arms, legs, feet, hands, and fingers twitch, and I lose control for a few seconds. it doesn’t hurt, and sometimes I don’t even notice or remember it happening, but my family does. epilepsy in general runs in my family, and it can be triggered by a great deal of stress, lack of sleep, and of course flashing lights. in my case, I never “had” epilepsy or seizures until the “experience” I mentioned before, as it caused massive amounts of stress for about 2 years straight. it’s gotten better, as I now have medicine and am out of that situation, and I haven’t had a seizure since September, which is amazing and a huge blessing.

writing has helped with my depression and anxiety a lot, as I can write out what effects me the most. honestly, some of the characters are based off of myself (before vs after) and the person from the “experience.” this is just for therapeutic reasons, as I don’t really want to go to real therapy (I’d be too embarrassed to ask for it or talk to someone anyway, though I probably need to go eventually and plan to when I’m on my own).

however, when I stopped posting it, I started feeling bad again. I didn’t think I needed to post my stories to feel better or to make a childhood dream into reality, but not posting it made me feel somehow worse. I’ve stopped writing as much, and I’ve lost motivation to do just about anything. I’m working on a couple things to help myself get out of this “funk,” but any tips would be greatly appreciated!

this may seems stupid, but I’ve been depressed and very anxious about my schooling. I started in cyber security and got about halfway through, but I became depressed and had other issues so I didn’t finish the degree. now I’m starting in psychology, after praying for months and months for help with figuring out what to do for school. I finally got an answer, and that answer was to be a Christian counselor! I want to help as many people as I can, especially since I know how it feels to be anxious, depressed, and have PTSD.

I’m dealing with a lot of changes right now, as I’m selling my first car, might have to move out of my first house/childhood home, and just a bunch of other stuff. this sounds trivial, but I hate change. it seriously stresses me out. my neurologist told me that if I have any more seizures, I won’t be able to drive for 6 months to a year to be safe (as I could have an “episode” as I call it while driving and hurt myself/others in a potential car accident). trust me, trying not to be stressed while being stressed, anxious, and depressed is not easy.

on top of all that, my irl friends have all but abandoned me. I never hear from them (all but one, she’s the best!), and when I do they ignore me or pretend to listen when they obviously aren’t. I try to make plans with them, but they ignore me or just say “definitely!” but never try to set up times to hang out. It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen them all together. I was able to hang out with the friend I mentioned earlier to go to another friend’s recital, but that was it, and that was months ago. I totally get being busy, but I miss them and I don’t think they miss me, which really hurts. one friend ditched us on graduation day and we haven’t talked to her outside of “happy birthday,” or “@___ look at this thing I know you like,” which she never responded to. graduation was 4 years ago. I miss them all, even if they aren’t really my friends. I miss familiarity and their chaotic personalities. I’ve known them my entire life. honestly, I haven’t made any other friends irl, even though I’ve tried (I’m very introverted and a lot of people don’t get my humor/personality. I’m very much a mischievous old lady that uses weird wording (li.e. using uncommon words for my generation mixed with modern stuff, basically I sound like a vampire that’s been around since the 50s and mixes the eras together in some unholy mixture) at heart and I have very niche interests that I cling to like they’re my last hope). basically, making friends and meeting new people is hard for me for various reasons.

tumblr is different though, which I’m seriously grateful for! the people I’ve talked to are all so nice and really fun to talk to, and they’re part of why I’m posting this. @elvish-sky gave me the courage to post this and @hey-its-nonny and @padawansofthejediorder have been amazing and super nice to me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. the reason I’m posting this is to let them know what’s going on if I don’t respond to messages for a while, and to let them know what wonderful people they are and how much it means to me that they care about me, even if we’re just tumblr mutuals. I love you guys, thanks for being here! it means more than you know.

my mom and dad both had health scares recently, which made me spiral even more. I honestly don’t know what I would do if one of them died. they’re literally my world and my best friends, as ridiculous as that sounds. my mental health was so low I honestly thought I’d die too. they’re both fine now, which is truly a blessing and a massive relief. when I say I thought I’d die too, I don’t mean I wanted to commit suicide, but I honestly can’t imagine a world without my parents, especially my mom (hers was the main health scare, it was a case of reaction to a new medication for her migraines). we’re insanely close and she’s my best friend, as cheesy as that sounds. I don’t know what I would do without her. it’s making me teary just thinking about it.

long story short, please be patient with me. I’m dealing with a lot right now, and I need some time to take a deep breath and focus on my mental health. if you have any suggestions/tips for dealing with depression, anxiety, and PTSD flashbacks, please let me know!

for those I’ve tagged, you don’t have to reply or even read this whole thing if you want, I tagged you because I thought you’d like to know about this and/or I wanted to show my appreciation for your kindness!

I love you all, thanks for sticking around and listening to my rants. <3

#roguespeaks #sorry that was super long #vent #mental health #roguesrambles

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golchaworld · 4 years

Text

Brown Sugar, Cinnamon Spice | H. HJ

pairing: baker!hyunjin x wedding planner!reader, (implied fem!reader), various celebrity cameos

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, a pinch of angst

word count: 5.4k

warnings: none!

summary: amidst stress and loneliness, you find your own decadence.

A/N: this is probably the longest fic I’ve written in the shortest amount of time! This only took me a few days start to finish. I guess I was super in love with the concept, and I hope y’all are too. As always, comments, critiques, and feedback are welcome and encouraged. My ask box is always open. Enjoy :D

You swear you’re going to die from a sugar overdose. Not from the piece of red velvet cheesecake sitting in front of you, but instead from the gazes that the couple in front of you shares. They fuss and coo, feeding each other different types of cake with disgustingly sweet smiles on their faces. It would be cute...if you didn’t have to deal with this everyday.

Planning weddings was always your dream. There was something so whimsical about the aura of weddings, the aura of love, that was always destroyed by the stress of planning. Ever since you were little, you vowed to take as much stress off of engaged couples as possible, in order to let them bask in the excitement of getting married.

Four years after college, and here you are, the best wedding planner in the city. The best wedding planner in the city, and absolutely, devastatingly single.

It’s not that you expected to be happily married by 25, but it would be nice to at least have a boyfriend, a significant other, someone. But no, instead you’re forced to help happy couples as they live out your dream. All too often you find yourself wishing you were in the place of the bride-to-be, having a fiancé to fawn over.

It’s sad, really, the way you watch the couple across from you as they bask in their pre-marital bliss. Every glance feels intimate. Every spoonful that they feed to each other feels private. You smile sadly before clearing your throat.

“I’ll leave you two to go through more of the cakes. Let me know when you guys make a decision. I’ll be waiting up front.”

The couple dismisses you with a wave, barely taking their eyes off of each other. You just set your shoulders and smooth out the blouse that’s tucked artfully into your skirt. Your heels make a satisfying click as you make your way to the front counter, adorned with cases of pastries and other sinful sweets. It’s the one behind the counter, however, that makes your head fill with sugar.

Hwang Hyunjin was more than just a familiar face. He was a college acquaintance, mutual friends always having the two of you running into each other. After graduation, the two of you were the only ones who decided to stay in the city, some twisted stab of fate bringing you closer.

You can say he’s your glorified best friend. The two of you aren’t exactly the closest, but you see each other often enough that conversation has moved from awkward to easy, distant to friendly. It also helps that the both of you have entered a sort of...business agreement.

You send any couples needing to taste cakes to his bakery first. When anyone comes to him with an order for a large event that needs planning, he sends them your way.

Now, the man just looks relaxed, smiling at you with a streak of white flour on his cheek. He leans one arm against the counter and you struggle not to look down at the way it flexes. Hyunjin always said that baking proves to be a full body workout. You can’t help but agree.

“Which one are they leaning towards?” Hyunjin asks in lieu of greeting.

“No idea.” You scrunch your nose in disgust. “They were too busy feeding each other and flirting to make any actual judgements about the cake.”

Hyunjin giggles in that unique way of his, high pitched and muted. His cheeks scrunch up, causing crow’s feet to form around his eyes. The flour flakes off in some spots.

“You can’t blame them,” Hyunjin teases. “They’re in love. Unlike a certain grumpy pants over here.”

You scoff at his insinuations.

“Don’t be jealous, Y/N.”

“I am not jealous! It would just make my life a lot easier if they just chose the damn cake.”

Hyunjin cocks an eyebrow. “Which one of us is actually baking it again?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it, Hyunjin.”

The bell above the door chimes, announcing the arrival of a new wave of customers. Hyunjin shoots a wink your way before heading over to the cash register. He has on his salesman smile, and that alone has the group of girls in front of him swooning.

In college, Hwang Hyunjin was the mega-hot culinary business student who never slept around and went to church every Sunday. Now Hyunjin is the mega-hot baker-slash-bakery owner who may or may not sleep around but still goes to church every Sunday. It’s fair to say that the entire city is in love with him.

They have a right to be, of course. Hyunjin is a hot, young, single guy who bakes for crying out loud. He specializes in wedding cakes. What 26 year old man specializes in wedding cakes?

Hyunjin, the anomaly that he is, is the apple of everyone’s eye, a diamond in the rough, a sweet lawn in the concrete jungle. He’s a breath of fresh air, coated in sugary sweetness.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him.

Even now, you watch how he makes small talk with his customers, how he shoots them small smiles and flirty winks. He lays the charm on thick; anything to get them to buy an extra cannoli, he says. And like a moth to a flame, you’re drawn in. You’re drawn into his sweet smile, his long blonde hair, the beauty mark under his left eye. It leaves you with a sugar rush.

Eventually, you’re called back to reality by your clients approaching. They decide on a simple yellow cake with the strawberry and vanilla pudding filling. Internally, you smile, knowing that it’s Hyunjin’s best seller...obviously for a reason.

You leave the couple with a reassurance that you’ll set up an appointment with Hyunjin to go over the design of the cake. They mentioned that they already have pre-determined cake toppers, and you fight not to roll your eyes. It’s always the cheesiest when the couples pick their own toppers.

You plaster on a smile and wave them goodbye, watching as the door closes behind them with a soft thud, the bell above still chiming. You glance down at your wristwatch and sigh. You have 15 minutes to get to Yeji’s dress fitting, all the way across the city. You straighten your shoulders, fix your blouse, and give Hyunjin one last glance on the way out.

He winks in return.

. . .

The catch of Hyunjin being your pseudo-best friend is that he has to take care of you. Not that you need a lot of taking care of. But at the end of a long work day, Hyunjin is always there to pick up the pieces. He always gives you a choice of desserts to make the day better, and today you choose to do so with tiramisu.

You practically groan when the first bit of coffee cream hits your tastebuds, followed by the bittersweet hint of cocoa powder. The cake is rich and moist, melting on your tongue in a way that’s not overly decadent. It’s not until you hear a chuckle from across from you do you realize that your eyes are closed.

When you open them, Hyunjin beams at you from across the counter, laughing at the way you’re indulging in your dessert.

“Stop laughing at me,” you command around a mouthful of cream.

“I’m not! It’s just,” Hyunjin tucks a blonde strand behind his ear. “You eat this tiramisu like twice a week, and every time you act like it’s the first...or like it’s going to be your last.”

“You should take it as a compliment.”

Hyunjin chuckles again. “Maybe I do.”

The bakery has a different aura at night. Instead of the lively buzz of coffee cups and sugar rushes, it’s bathed in a velvety decadence, illuminated by the subtle light of the pastry display. All of the chairs have been put up for the night, all of the leftover pastries have been discarded, all of the employees gone for the night. It just leaves you, Hyunjin, and the bold cream of tiramisu.

The first time Hyunjin had invited you to the bakery after hours, you thought he was joking. The two of you hadn’t been that close yet, and spending secluded, unstructured time together seemed like a recipe for disaster. To your surprise, however, the night was comfortable and casual, spent test-tasting various desserts and laughing over various college memories.

It surprised you how much Hyunjin embraced you when everyone else from school moved onto different things. In a city this big, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to disregard you completely. You stay up at night wondering why he didn’t.

“So, how was the fitting?”

Hyunjin looks genuinely interested as you recount the details of your day. At a certain point he even reaches for a fork, indulging in the tiramisu with you. With his cheeks full to the brim, he nods, smiles and inserts commentary wherever necessary. Hyunjin has always been the best listener.

“Why do you plan weddings if it stresses you out so much?”

You pout at Hyunjin’s questions. “Why do you run a bakery if it stresses you out so much?”

“Because I get to eat delicious treats at the end of the day.”

You smirk. “So do I.”

“Touché,” Hyunjin smiles.

The two of you are quiet for a moment, indulging in the last few bites of tiramisu. It makes you smile, the way Hyunjin is still in love with all of his desserts after having to make them all day, every day. After every bite he groans dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at the cake to say “damn you for being so good.”

When the tiramisu is finished, and all that’s left is the sound of forks scraping empty plates, Hyunjin sighs.

“Are you going to plan your own?”

“My own wedding?” When Hyunjin nods in response, you chuckle sadly. “At this point, it looks like I’ll never even have a wedding, let alone have the chance to plan it.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie. I’m sure you have suitors lining up to take your hand in marriage.”

You scoff, picking up the plate that once held your tiramisu. You deposit it in the sink full of soapy water behind the counter, along with the fork. Hyunjin grabs your arm as you get closer, forcing you to face his looming form.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

You shrug in response. “Maybe that’s the problem. My love life is such a joke that you being serious about it seems like an insult.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why—“

You’re quick to cut the man off. “It’s getting late, Hyunjin. I’ll see you, okay?”

You don’t wait for Hyunjin to respond, leaving the man nodding dumbly behind the counter. At the first whip of the harsh wind against your face, you groan. Hyunjin was supposed to be your ride home.

. . .

The thing about the city is that celebrity weddings are frequent. Celebrity weddings, known for their flashy, expensive decorations, and over-the-top attire single handedly wipe out your energy for the entire season. But they pay well.

The money may or may not be the reason you sit in front of the Minatozaki Sana in your office, her hand being held by her fiancé. He’s a gorgeous man, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. That much is expected as the fiancé of the top model in the country.

“So do you guys have a date in mind?” You ask the couple, a warm smile glossing over your face.

“Well,” Sana glances at her fiancé before returning your gaze. “We were hoping for November 18th.”

“Got it! So a year and a month isn’t too bad. It’s a little tight for planning, but—“

The fiancé chuckles. “Oh no, I think you’ve misunderstood. We meant November 18th, 2020. We want to get married next month.”

You can’t help the way your jaw drops. A month for a normal wedding would be hell on earth. A month for a celebrity wedding is like jumping head first into Dante’s Inferno. Your distress must be palpable, seeing as Sana’s brows furrow almost instantly.

“That’s...doable right?” She asks with wide eyes.

“Umm,” you rack your brain for words. “It’s going to be tight. Like really tight. But yes, it’s doable.”

Sana instantly lights up, clasping her fiancé’s hands in hers. “Oh wonderful! I’m so excited.”

You nod in agreement, plastering on the biggest smile you can manage.

“Oh! And one more thing!” Sana’s eyes sparkle with excitement. ��I want a Hwang Cake!”

. . .

Three hours later, you’re seated across from the engaged couple as the two indulge in a plethora of different cakes and icings. Hyunjin had managed to whip them all up in such a short amount of time, not once complaining about the pinch you put him in. At some point, though, you’ll have to tell him about the month until the wedding. You’re sure you’re going to hear some complaints then.

Instead of Hyunjin being the face of the bakery today, it’s one of his employees, a short but bright boy by the name of Felix. He always wears glittery eyeshadow and a smile too big for his face, and it only adds to how endearing he is. You’d never met the human embodiment of cotton candy until Felix waltzed into the bakery on his first day of work.

With Felix manning the register, Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. The only appearance he made was to hand-deliver the test cakes to Sana and her fiancé. He greeted them with a bright smile and many thanks for choosing his bakery. He only gave you a curt nod before disappearing behind the threshold of the kitchen.

“The red velvet is to die for! Don’t you think, hun?”

Sana’s fiancé looks back at the woman as if she hung the stars, confessing his love for her and more with just one glance. Once again, you are reminded of what true love looks like. Once again, you feel jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach.

“It is. I love it with the cream cheese icing.”

Sana smiles. “I know you do. Cream cheese has always been your favorite. If only you could see that buttercream is superior.”

For a second, the couple just gaze at each other, basking in the vitality of a fresh engagement. You can tell that even though their romance was very spur of the moment, they will clearly last for a long time.

Your chest hurts.

“I think we’ll go with the red velvet and cream cheese icing.”

You’re quick to put on a smile. “Perfect! I’ll go let Hyunjin know, and then later we can make an appointment to figure out the design and aesthetics of the cake.”

“Sounds good.”

As you stand and approach the register, you can hear the couple begin to giggle to themselves, as if choosing a wedding cake flavor is the epitome of cloud nine. You suppose it might be. You wouldn’t know

Felix greets you with a smile when you arrive at the register, the corners of his eyes scrunching cutely. “How did it go?”

You can’t help but return the smile. “Good! They decided pretty quickly. Where’s Hyunjin, so I can let him know?”

“In the kitchen,” Felix points behind his shoulder with a thumb. “You can just head back there.”

“Thanks, Felix.”

You expect the hardcore rap music that’s playing through the speakers in the kitchen. It’s muted enough so that the rest of the bakery can’t hear it, but loud enough that Hyunjin can get lost in it. It’s endearing, the way he mumbles the words under his breath while he pipes bright orange frosting onto a black fondant cake. It’s always around this time that he has to perfect his Halloween treats.

You wait until he’s done piping his row before calling his attention softly. “Hyunjin? They decided.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look up. He just moves on to piping the next row while he says, “and what did they decide?”

“Red velvet with the cream cheese icing.”

“Okay. We’ll make the appointment for later in the week.”

Hyunjin’s tone carries an air of finality to it. It’s formal, cold, and all too detached. Although the two of you have never been that close, this distance is still new from you. Hyunjin has never stood in front of you and felt miles away.

“Okay.” And when he doesn’t respond, “I’ll be back later, okay? After closing.”

Hyunjin stills for a moment before continuing his piping job, the movement almost imperceptible. “Tiramisu or cannoli?”

A sticky sweet smile blooms on your face. “Cannoli.”

. . .

The shell of the cannoli crunches deliciously, breaking the silence between you and Hyunjin. It’s once again after closing, but gone is the aura of awkwardness the two of you had left behind the previous night. Hyunjin glances at you, a small smirk gracing his face.

“Is it good?”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s good.”

“Maybe I do.” Hyunjin shrugs cutely, his white apron shifting in the process.

He looks more up-kept than usual. His long hair is tied half up by a navy blue ribbon that matches the oversized sweater he wears. He’s wearing his jewelry, all of his piercings filled with earrings, various chunky rings adorning his fingers. But when you look down, you notice he’s still wearing his trademark neon green crocs.

“Nice shoes.”

Hyunjin looks down before realizing what you’re referring to. “Oh shut up. You know they’re the comfiest for baking.”

“Maybe I do.”

You savor the taste of the whipped cream and ricotta as it hits your tongue. Hyunjin looks content to watch you enjoy the dessert, folding his arms over his chest as he eyes you. He’s not the slightest bit insecure about his work, knowing that no matter what he makes, you’ll love.

It reminds you all too much of the first time you met Hyunjin, packed together inside a way-too-crowded frat party. Changbin, a mutual friend had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you through the crowd, insisting that there was someone you had to meet. You spotted Hyunjin long before you could make your way over.

Hyunjin had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze had been disinterested, but confident, knowing that his presence alone was a gift in and of itself. At the time, he didn’t know how right he was.

“You know, I didn’t mean to insult you yesterday.”

The man’s comment has you finally looking up from your cannoli, the last bite standing frozen between your fingers. After swallowing down a mouthful of filling, you clear your throat, slowly lowering the pastry down to the plate.

“It’s okay. I think I just overreacted a bit.”

Hyunjin nods, arms still crossed tightly over his chest. Light glints off of one of his silver rings. “Why is it such a sore topic? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Honestly?” You chuckle bitterly to yourself. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I just expected something by now. But here I am, 25 years old, having a stable career, and having not had a relationship over half a decade. I just feel like I’m behind, you know?”

Surprisingly, Hyunjin nods. “I do. I mean, I’ve never had a relationship.”

This is news. Hwang Hyunjin, the star culinary student slash campus heartthrob has never had a relationship. Never? Even the thought seems ridiculous.

The confusion must be evident on your face, because Hyunjin chuckles. “I know, I know. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

“Not silly! Just...surprising…”

“Well, I guess so.”

You’re still attempting to process your thoughts, unable to stop a slew of questions from leaving your mouth. “Why not, though? Have you never considered it? Have you never had your eye on someone?”

At this, Hyunjin’s eyes grow sad. The confident light in them disappears like a wisp of cotton candy in the wind. His eyes swim with a salty-sweetness.

“I’ve actually always had my eye on someone. Since college, actually.”

Instantly, it clicks. “Oh! They must have moved away, right? Everyone moved away after college except us, and I know how sucky that must be for you. Gosh, I didn’t even consider that.”

Hyunjin traps a bubblegum bottom lip between his teeth, seemingly mulling something over in his head. His arm tenses, only once, before releasing. Hyunjin uncrosses his arms, choosing to lean forward onto the countertop.

“I don’t think they left.”

Your eyes light up at the same time your heart falls. It’s so easy to fake not being hurt by the information, just like it’s easy to fake not wanting Hyunjin. Just like it’s easy to say that sticking around after hours is for work and not personal agendas. Just like it’s easy to be his pseudo-best friend.

“Then why don’t you go for it?”

Hyunjin chuckles sadly. “I’m not even on their radar. Not like that.”

For the first time tonight, you laugh. You laugh genuinely and boldly. You laugh loudly, until tears are pooling in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin just looks at you as if you are crazy, overcome with a laughing fit in the middle of his closed bakery. But you can’t help it; it’s funny.

“You’re literally Hwang Hyunjin. There’s no one who’s radar you aren’t on! And I mean no one.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Then why don’t they ever go for it or flirt with me back? I keep waiting on them to indulge me, but they never do.”

“I think…” You take a deep breath in order to swallow back tears. “I think that maybe they dont know that you’re interested. You have to be bold and make the first move! I promise you no one would ever turn you down.”

Hyunjin sighs. “And you know this for sure?”

The smile that you plaster on is watery and obviously fake. However, it’s the best you can do in the dark chocolate ambience of the bakery. It echoes everything inside you at the moment—bittersweet.

“Maybe I do.”

. . .

You don’t see Hyunjin again until a few days later. Your schedule is packed with last minute rearrangements and irregular breaks as you make room for Sana’s wedding plans. It’s hectic, stressful, and overall just a handful.

Your hands hurt from typing out various versions of wedding invitations. Every venue in the city hates you for repeatedly calling and begging for availability on November 18th. A few of your clients are pissed for having their appointments rescheduled, and an even smaller few are understanding.

The worst part of it all is that when Sana and her fiancé waltz into your office on a random Monday, they have the audacity to look cheerful. Neither of them look the least bit stressed, and all the more in love, which angers you slightly. You have to remind yourself that this is why you do this. You have voluntarily become a stress ball for engaged couples. You’re starting to regret that decision.

Sana blinks her pretty eyes at you sweetly, greeting you with a honey-dipped smile. “How have things been going?”

You plaster on an equally sweet smile, composed of high fructose corn syrup instead of genuine sugar. “It’s been going well. Your cake appointment is scheduled for Thursday. All that’s left is for you to pick an invitation format, your dress, and the venue.”

“That sounds great! That’s nothing.” The fiancé exclaims.

You grit your teeth. “Yep, it should be smooth sailing from here.”

The couple leaves with various printed versions of wedding invitations that you paid extra to express print. The minute the door closes behind the two, you sag into your chair. Running your hands over your face, you let out a loud groan. The best part about having an individual office is that no one is around to hear your mental breakdowns.

You spend a moment indulging in the secret stash of chocolates you keep in the top drawer of your desk, letting the rich bitterness melt on your tongue. The taste is dangerous, and you remind yourself to hit the gym extra hard this week.

After a moment, your phone chimes with a message. It’s a simple text from Hyunjin, asking you if you’re planning to visit the bakery later. When you reply in the affirmative, he responds with a simple question.

Cheesecake or Torrone?

You smile and reply with the former.

. . .

The bakery is eerily silent when you arrive. Although it’s normally quiet at this hour, you can usually hear the soft hum of Hyunjin’s music, or the sounds of dishes and pans being cleaned. But this time, there’s nothing.

“Hyunjin?” You call out, slightly confused at the ambience.

It’s silent for a moment, and then a voice sounds out. “In the kitchen!”

You follow the familiar path back to the kitchen, surprised at the dimness of the lights and the lack of sound. When you enter the kitchen, though, it makes both more and less sense at the same time. Hyunjin has various candles littered around the countertops, illuminating the kitchen in a soft orange glow.

Hyunjin himself stands in the corner of the kitchen, changed out of his work attire. He’s wearing a neat button up shirt, untucked over black jeans. The look is completed with his black dress shoes and various jewelry. At his lack of bright green crocs, you’re taken aback.

At the center of the kitchen, poised atop what is usually used as a workbench for kneading bread, is a perfect cheesecake resting on a cake stand. The cake’s tan surface is tainted with tracks of a red reduction that has been placed gently on the center of the cheesecake. At second glance, you determine it to be raspberry. Your favorite.

“What is all this?”

A small smile graces Hyunjin’s face. “Well you told me to ‘be bold and make the first move.’ I don’t know what could be a bolder move than candles and raspberry cheesecake.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind at the revelation. First move? Being bold? It’s you? Through your jumble of thoughts and emotions, you manage out a small, “so it is raspberry?”

“I’m standing here confessing, and you’re asking about the cheesecake?” Hyunjin laughs. “Yes, it’s raspberry. I knew that was your favorite so…”

“So it's me? I don’t understand.”

Hyunjin finally moves from his position in the corner, crossing the large kitchen easily. “Well, I hoped we could talk about it over cake.” The man motions towards the stools around the workbench.

You just nod, taking a seat on one of the stools. You struggle to keep up with the situation, still wrapping your head around it. Hyunjin makes his way over, a smile still poised on his face. You bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You find yourself biting harder as you watch the flex of his forearms when he cuts the cake. The piece he deposits in front of you is picturesque, something straight out of a food and wine magazine.

When Hyunjin sits across from you, you take in the way the candlelight hits him, perfectly illuminating his features. His lips are plush and pink, blonde hair falling down onto his shoulders. There’s something glimmering in his eyes, a conflicted wetness that borders between hopeful and disappointed.

“So?” You start.

Hyunjin just shakes his head. “Take a bite first.”

“Hyunjin, I know what your cheesecake tastes like.”

“I don’t care. I’m not talking until you take a bite.”

Stubbornly, you pick up your fork and shovel a bite into your mouth. You’re about to immediately retaliate and open your mouth again, but the pleasant assault of flavor on your taste buds leaves you immobilized. Your eyes widen in shock, causing Hyunjin to chuckle cutely.

“It’s good, right? I added an extra hint of cinnamon spice in order to give the crust that extra umph.”

You practically moan around your bite of food. “Hwang Hyunjin I could marry you right--”

Hyunjin laughs again, this time appreciating the way you cut yourself off before he had to. He shifts in his seat, taking a bite of his own cheesecake before pushing a strand of hair out of his face. He savors his bite, chewing slowly and swallowing completely before opening his mouth again.

“I know this may be sudden,” he begins. “And I know we’ve never been that close. But I like you, Y/N. I have since college. And I don’t want to be too presumptuous, but I have a feeling that you may like me too.”

You nod slowly, trying to ignore the heat that rises to the apples of your cheeks. “Maybe I do.”

Once again, Hyunjin laughs. “Well I guess a ‘maybe’ is as good as I’m going to get from you.”

“No, I mean,” you clear your throat. “I like you, too. Not maybe. I do.”

Hyunjin’s smile is bright, soft around the edges as the shadows of the candle flames dance around his face. He’s gorgeous, all rounded cheeks and bleach blonde hair, squinty eyes and the faintest of dimples.

“I’m glad.”

You sigh. “This whole time I wondered why we were always on the border of friendship. We were close, but not that close. It felt weird to be your friend but also felt weird to not be. I guess that should have been a sign, huh?”

“I’ve always been bad at reading signals.”

“Me too.”

The smile you two share is warm and sweet, filled with the kind of rich sweetness that only comes with something fresh and purified. It’s not the synthetic sugar that makes candy, nor the citrusy sweetness of fruit. The sugar you share is rich, deep, with a slight tang. It’s reminiscent of the crust of the cheesecake, a mellow combination of brown sugar and cinnamon spice.

. . .

Sana’s wedding is just as grand as she wanted it to be. The venue is decked out in flashes of burgundy silk and red roses, complimenting the warm brown of Sana’s hair. Her dress is adorned with Swarovski crystals and delicate stitching, allowing her to sparkle all throughout the ceremony. Eventually vows are read, and the couple is officiated, and you hold Hyunjin’s hand when he sheds a few tears.

The reception is equally as flashy, various celebrity couples trying to outdo each other with their outfits and lavish gifts for the newlywed couple. They take up all of the space in the room and on the dance floor, their fame-inflated egos making the venue feel much smaller than it actually is.

The couple cuts into the cake with cheers in the background. Hyunjin cringes as they smash pieces of cake in each others’ faces, complaining about the waste of frosting and “immaculately made cake.” It takes two kisses and holding his hand for 5 minutes straight to placate him.

After cheers and various upbeat songs, the DJ finally slows down the pace. Various couples get up and slow dance together, swaying to the melody of the soft ballads. Even though its far from the vibes of Hyunjin’s favorite rap songs, he offers a hand out, and leads you happily to the dance floor.

The two of you find a small, unoccupied space on the dance floor, instantly falling into each other. You wrap your arms tightly around Hyunjin’s shoulders, revelling in the feeling of his warm hands around your waist. The two of you sway together, holding each other too close. You can feel the steady thump of Hyunjin’s heart under your head, each beat lining up with the slow pumps of yours.

The spectacularly sweet scent that always clings to Hyunjin as a result of his time in the bakery is ever-present, and you find yourself inhaling it reverently. You allow your eyes to close, getting lost in the song. And if you think hard enough, you can picture it being your own wedding.

You can picture you and Hyunjin at the altar, a few years in the future. You would hold each other’s hands tightly, fighting hard to hold back tears. Hyunjin would of course let a few fall, and you would laugh. And when the minister asks if you take Hwang Hyunjin to be your lawfully wedded husband, you would smile and respond:

“Maybe I do.”

#hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids #skz #escritos

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avversiera-writes · 3 years

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try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Then

Summary: continuation of chapter 4, Tobirama finds out that your copulating sessions have been successful.

Word Count: ~4k

A/N: welp, here we gooo. almost done tbh. if you prefer to read on ao3, then go ahead since most of the chapters have been posted there.

available on AO3.

When Tobirama is determined, he is very tenacious. He does not let up until the results are up to his satisfaction. Which would probably explain why the moment he comes home, the two of you are rushing upstairs to make it to the bedroom to fuck and not on the stairs, or the hallways, or anywhere else where you could get caught in an embarrassing way. You’re probably already pregnant from the first time, but since there is no way of telling at the moment, Tobirama has taken it upon himself to make sure that the deed is done well and good. He comes home earlier than usual, despite the heavy work that has to be done for the peaceful treaty with Kumogakure, and then if he still has some work to do, he goes back to the office and leaves you satiated.

You can tell that Tobirama is excited, despite not showing it. When you tease him about it, he only says that it is part of his duty to bring a new generation of shinobis into the village, especially as the Hokage, but when you look away, you can feel his gaze on you and practically feel his wonder at the prospect of having children. Of course, the both of you have that duty to parent children, but you trust Tobirama to be a good father and a teacher, because he had a huge hand in fostering young children into good shinobis.

You can tell that there is also a lot on his mind, and he seems to be a bit worried about how he will be as a father. It is on the way his brows knit whenever you mention the small things you want your children to experience or whenever you see something on the street, like a toy or a nursery crib for sale.

You cannot get anything out of him though, so you can only guess for now.

Today is one of those slow days, so you take it upon yourself to look for Kimiko, so that the two of you can plan ahead for your pregnancy. You are still not sure what steps to take or whatever supplements you might have to take because you never bothered to take those things seriously. Now, you wish you had because you hate bothering people for help, even though it was offered to you.

You chuckle silently to yourself. You preach about things people ought to do, like asking for help, but sometimes you fail to do just that. However, this is something you are trying to change about yourself. You still have a lot of growing to do.

You head to the kitchen, accidentally startling the servants that are there.

You smile at them kindly, and take your time to inquire about them. You share a few laughs, and then, you ask if there is something you can do to help out, hoping that there really is something, but they refuse your help and reassure you that they can take care of everything. Not being able to say anything else, you leave them be and you go on for your search for Kimiko.

Finally, you find her outside, hanging up bedsheets on the clothesline.

“Kimiko-san!” You call with relief. You jump over the steps leading to the ground and jog to her.

Kimiko stares at you worriedly. “My lady, you must not hurry like that. You could get hurt.”

You shrug, and you help her spread the next sheet over the clothesline. You give her a small smile. “My husband says the same thing.”

Kimiko chuckles as she places a pin over the blanket. “He is very protective of you.”

“Too much, at times,” you giggle and you hand Kimiko another clothespin.

“He means well,” Kimiko replies and the two of you finish the rest of the laundry in silence.

After hanging all the laundry, Kimiko leads you towards the dining room and asks you to wait there. You look towards the wall, where you and the other servants have hung some tapestries that Tobirama had received as gifts for becoming the Hokage, and to the painting of a snow mountain range on the wall. The house is minimal and almost spartan, but it is comfortable and pleasing to look at. You want the decorations to be practical, and because at times you couldn’t make yourself care about such things, you decided to make do with the collections of arts that Tobirama and the other Senju clan members have curated and given to your household.

Some are kept in storage as you have no idea where to place them. There are rooms in the house that remain empty, but you know that your husband may need those spaces for his growing library and his multiple journals, or his unfinished inventions that may never see the light of the day and your combined weapons.

And the rest of the rooms upstairs can be the rooms for your future children.

You smile at the thought and tuck that inside your mind for later entertaining.

You light the incense burner propped on a stand and then you go back to your seat, feeling a bit restless. You wish you could put your extra energy into training or being a shinobi, but those days are over. If you decide to defy your husband and continue to take missions, the people of Konoha may talk, and you do not want them to speak ill of your husband. They already concern themselves with your reproductive capabilities. They cannot be privy to any of your marital matters.

You sigh tiredly, but Kimiko walks in and you immediately compose yourself and shoot her a smile.

“Let’s begin!” You say excitedly.

Kimiko lays out several herbs and medicines on the table, some in vials or jars, and you are drawn to the colors, like a little kid. She sits down in front of you and gives you an amused smile and you give her your full attention, like you assume how good students do.

“Do you know whether you’re pregnant yet?” Kimiko inquires.

You shrug, and give her a meek smile. “No. I am assuming that I will have to wait and see next month.”

Kimiko sits down in front of you, unsure of how to react. “Well, do you feel any different? Do you feel nauseous? More tired than usual? Light-headed?”

“No,” you think back and reflect on this hectic month, but you come up with nothing. “I don’t have any problems with fertility, do I?” You feel some dread creeping up your throat. The thought of it almost brings tears to your eyes and you’re not much of a crier.

“No, my lady,” Kimiko immediately reassures. “Sometimes it takes a while. It’s different for women, not all experiences are the same across the board.” She smiles and reaches for your hand. “Besides, it’s a bit too early to tell. I was just asking because I don’t know how long you two have been, well, you know.”

You blush and stare at her, dumbfounded. “Oh.”

“Do not worry too much,” Kimiko squeezes your hand. “Besides, that is not good for you. You don’t want your body to be stressed.”

You nod and then gesture at the small apothecary that she brought with her. “So where do we start?”

“Well, since you are not pregnant yet, we’re just going to make sure that you’re eating healthy and that you’re taking care of yourself,” Kimiko says. “You need to take some supplements, and I can prepare those with every meal you have.”

“What kind?”

“Like, when you’re pregnant, sometimes a woman’s body will be depleted of iron, so you’ll have to take more of that. You’ll need to eat lots of vegetables too, to get your source of vitamins. Ginger tea as well.”

“For?”

“Morning sickness, and the like.”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you tell her, but you have already noted down the important details in your mind. “It sounds like a lot.”

Kimiko nods. “You need not to worry, my lady. It will be part of your daily routine, and I will help you.”

Kimiko begins to point out the herbs and the tea leaves, and some of the medicines that she brought with her, and you do your best to follow. You memorize the vials for treating certain symptoms that do not sound all good to you, and the jars with the ginger roots and the honey citrus tea, and other pleasant smelling green leaves that she presented.

Then, she tells you all about what to expect in the coming months. They do not sound delightful, especially when she tells you about the swollen legs and your muscles loosening and the gaining of weight or the crazy cravings, but then she tells you about what to look forward to, such as the first kick of your baby, and that you can even talk to them while inside your womb.

“Do you have any questions?” Kimiko asks as she notices that you have grown quiet.

You shake your head. “No, not really. I’m just…”

“Overwhelmed?” Kimiko supplies a gentle smile.

You chuckle. “Yes. A little. I’m scared and excited.”

The doors of the dining room slides open, and they reveal your husband, dressed in his training clothes, the blue wrap-around shirt and trousers and his mesh under armour, and the green sash tied across his waist. Sweat covers his neck and his chest, and you observe his collarbones, finding yourself pressing your lips together.

“Rough day?” You ask with a sly smile.

Kimiko clears her throat and she starts to gather the things from the table. The servants of the house are probably tired of the two of you flirting and fucking around.

“Are those opiates?” Tobirama inquires, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. He glances at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is she alright?”

Kimiko lets out a strained laugh, and you take note the way her voice changed. “Ah, my lord. Those are for pain-numbing concoctions. They can be used in small doses, and should your wife need it for the pain that comes with giving birth…”

Tobirama nods. “I see.” His forehead wrinkles. “I need to talk to my wife.”

You roll your eyes at Tobirama’s abruptness and you jump up to your feet. You quickly walk up to him and push him out of the dining room, and usher him towards the hallway that leads to upstairs.

“You are so rude,” you scold playfully. You bump your shoulder against his arm. “I forgot to ask her how I can find out if I’m pregnant. I’m sure there's, like, some mystical way of doing it. Like tracing the stars on the skies, or like, a lunar eclipse.”

Tobirama crosses his arms and he rolls his eyes. “Just take some wheat or barley seeds and proceed to urinate on it. If it grows, then you are pregnant. If not, then, we’d have to keep trying.”

Your jaw drops open. The idea of it is embarrassing to even think about doing.

Tobirama glances at you indifferently. “I have many nephews. The Senjus did this to confirm pregnancies. Barley for boys, wheat for girls.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Tobirama raises his eyebrows and stares at you pointedly. You are not sure whether he is kidding or not, and it makes you a little peeved.

“Why would I?” Tobirama asks in a tone that makes you think otherwise.

“The Senju and their plants,” you roll your eyes and let out a small sigh.

Tobirama shrugs, and you press your hand against his chest, and you push him towards the wall.

“What are you doing?” Tobirama suddenly looks alarmed.

“A service.”

“I beg to differ,” Tobirama looks offended. A harsh, red blush begins to creep up his neck and his ears.

You pull him against yourself using the sash around his waist.

“Our Hokage’s been hard at work,” you whisper on his lips. “It’s only right that I reward him for it.”

Tobirama leans his head away, but there is nowhere for him to go.

You stand on your tiptoes, and you lean forward to catch his lips. Tobirama stops, and when you pull away, he looks at you, bewildered and suddenly speechless.

“What?” You ask. “What were you thinking?” You give him a cheeky grin.

Tobirama’s face pinks and his hands grasp the sides of your arms. “Nothing.”

“Hm-hm. That’s what I thought.”

Tobirama’s jaw tenses, and you cannot help but smile wider.

“You do this on purpose.”

“Whatever do you mean, Lord Nidaime?” You feign innocence. You lean closer to his face. “What did you want to talk with me about?”

Tobirama stares at you, at a loss.

“I’m listening–”

Tobirama seals your lips with a kiss, so quick that it does not register to you that your back has hit your bed. The seal that Tobirama plasted on the bed recently does have its perks.

“Let’s use that bratty mouth of yours to good use, shall we?” Tobirama growls into your ear, and your breath catches in your throat.

Tobirama slips two fingers into your mouth, the pads of his fingers brushing against the roof of your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and you begin to suck at it, and Tobirama’s eyes narrow with lust.

“Good girl,” he whispers.

Sweaty and panting, you and your Senju husband lie side by side on the bed. Your body is still trembling from the ecstasy of being filled over and over again by Tobirama’s seed, and each touch and movement makes your shudder and moan. Tears stream down the side of your eyes, and you are sure that you have drooled yourself, but none of that registers yet. Your mind is still frayed, and you remember the sensation of Tobirama’s cock pulsating in your mouth, the way his aroused flesh just feels so rubbery and slick, and the way it throbbed and hardened inside you until he had emptied his load in you.

You touch your tongue to your lips, and you close your eyes, still seeing stars.

You feel his rough hand on your waist, and you whimper, unable to bear any slight movement at the moment. Tobirama gathers you into his arms and you tense up. It takes a moment, but finally, you relax and melt into him.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Tobirama states.

“Hm,” you say, or what you think you have said.

You share another moment of silence with each other, and you are content to listen to his racing heartbeat, which you have familiarized yourself with. You know every inflection and startle of his heart, and whether they mean he is calm or stressed.

Finally, your bones have settled into a pleasant feeling of fatigue, and you turn to your husband slightly.

“Something on your mind?”

Tobirama takes a minute to answer you. “Yes.”

“What is it?”

“The peace negotiations with Kumo are successful. We will have the peace ceremony in six months.”

“That is good,” you comment, your eyes flitting close.

“I hope so,” Tobirama says. “I will have to go.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’d rather you stay here, knowing that you will be safe,” Tobirama answers. “Besides, if all things go well, you’ll be pregnant, and the trip to Kumo will not be suitable for your health.”

“All right,” you acquiesce.

“That easy?”

“You know best.”

“I thought it’d be hard to convince you.”

You roll your eyes. “Believe it or not, I actually do listen to you.”

Tobirama lets out a low, amused chuckle. “I see.”

“You laughed,” you yawn.

“I beg to differ.”

“Chuckled,” you dreamily correct. “I’ll pull more laughs from you, Senju. Mark my words.”

Tobirama brushes your hair from your face and plants a kiss behind your ear. “I am counting on them.”

A new month begins, and you anticipate for the week of your menstruation. You find yourself alone again, as these days Tobirama does not want you to concern yourself with any of his Hokage duties. He has been mostly focused with Kumogakure, and while you want to do everything in your power to help him, you know that this is something that he may have to do alone, as he is the best in delegating. Inserting yourself into his manifested but fragile chaos may not let him give his full attention to it. Besides, this is the first outside project that Tobirama has taken on as the Second Hokage. The best you can do for now is to support him.

In your alone time, you pick up on reading again, whether they are about parenthood that Tobirama brought into the house at one point, or books of poems and fiction that he had curated over the years.

And in that alone time, you ponder the idea of what Tobirama had told you a while ago.

If it does not work, then I’ll have a good laugh, you tell yourself as you go into the kitchen.

You rummage through the kitchen, being careful not to make any noise so that no one will come to hear your lame excuse of being here. Finally, you get your hands on wheat and barley seeds and a humongous amount of snacks because you are hungry and these snacks look delicious, and just thinking about how its flavors make you look forward to eating them.

You feel silly just holding on to these seeds, but you make it quick by stuffing a pot with soil, planting the seeds there and doing the rest in your bathroom. Then, you hide the pot in the inner garden downstairs, and you stay the rest of the day in your room, eating and studying.

Time goes by so slowly when you are not doing much, and pretty soon, you find your eyes growing heavy, and before you know it, you are sleeping in the comfort of your bed.

When you open your eyes, it is nighttime, and your husband is peering at you with concern or maybe disapproval because you remember leaving some snacks on the bed. He touches your forehead and his cool palm makes you flip your eyes close.

“The servants tell me you have not come down to eat lunch and dinner,” Tobirama states. “Are you unwell?”

You yawn and stretch, and you blink blearily at him. “No?” It takes a moment for his words to register. “Wait, I missed dinner?”

“It is almost midnight,” Tobirama replies.

“Oh,” you deadpan.

Tobirama sighs. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

“Did you just come home now?” You ask as you follow him down to the dining room.

“I got held up at work,” Tobirama replies vaguely. He makes sure that you are seated on the table and he disappears into the kitchen for a while.

When he arrives, he brings a whole entree of food with him: the rice, soup with vegetables and meat, steamed sweet potatoes, fish and a few side dishes to go with it.

Tobirama silently sets up your plate and utensils, and you thank him and begin to eat the rest of the food in silence. When the rice has run out, Tobirama stands up to get more without saying anything, only choosing to comment about making sure to slow down and chew through your food. You shrug at him, still hungry despite devouring the last of the sweet potatoes.

Tobirama narrows his eyes, but he keeps mum for the rest of the night, and leaves you to your own thoughts.

You peek from the threshold of Tobirama’s study. Your husband of almost three years is hard at work as always, with his jutsu inventing or just general Konoha policy work. You observe him for a moment, and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way his eyebrows knit together the deeper his concentration gets. His lips press together in a tight line, but you sense no bad tension from him. Right now, he is currently reading one of his notes–probably from one of his current experiments–and then transcribing it on another blank paper.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Tobirama finally asks and he puts down his pen.

You walk into his study and towards him. You gingerly take his face with both of your hands, and you study him. Your thumbs come up to caress his cheeks and then, you plant a soft kiss on his forehead.

“You look tired,” you comment. “You should get some sleep.”

“I need to finish this,” Tobirama replies, but whatever focus he has woven before you came, it is now gone and replaced by the tender attentiveness he offers to only you.

“Is it urgent?” You murmur. You bring a hand to his forehead and brush his hair up to reveal his pale forehead. “Can I help?” You kiss his forehead again, and then his lips.

A smile flits through Tobirama’s face but it is gone before you can even process it.

“It is urgent, but it requires about nine months of waiting,” Tobirama replies, and he places his hands on your waist. It seems like he is willing to be more affectionate these days. “Go rest.”

You roll your eyes. “I have been resting a lot these days, Lord Nidaime. Why do you keep making me rest, hm? I’ve had ample rest time.”

Tobirama looks down at your stomach, and then at you. He does not speak, and he squeezes one side of your waist reassuringly. His face softens as an affirmation takes place on his face.

“Do you know why?” Tobirama murmurs.

“No,” you start. “I thought you were just being your neurotypical, paranoid self.”

Tobirama sighs. “How are your meals? Do you find them agreeable? Do you tire easily?”

You stare at Tobirama as if he had grown another head, but you know that if you do not answer, he will keep pressing you. “My meals are fine, and agreeable. I find it impossible to get tired these days since you keep micromanaging my sleep.”

Your answers bring relief to Tobirama and you stare at him, confused. “Is there something that I should know?”

Tobirama takes both of your hands, and holds onto them tightly. “It feels strange that I am the one breaking the news of your pregnancy for you.”

Your mouth drops in shock, and the two of you stare at each other, one in disbelief, and the other smug.

“H-How?!” You stammer.

“I sensed a disturbance in your chakra, and...I realized that it has the same signature as mine. Yours flare stronger than usual, too.”

“Since when?”

“I confirmed it just now. Besides, it was just a theory.”

“Dammit, Tobirama,” you reply, more out of habit, but you are not exasperated with him.

Tobirama presses a kiss into your palms, and then your wrists. Warmth travels through your chest, and when you find your husband’s eyes, it is easily perceptible that he shares the same feelings as you.

“Now, go rest,” Tobirama orders, but the softness in his voice is so palpable, you are reeling from it.

You roll your eyes, and start to exit the study. You hear the shuffling of papers behind you, and you feel relief in your heart that he is not pushing himself as much.

Tobirama suddenly calls your name and you turn to him, expectant.

You watch as he takes a few seconds to steel himself. He is looking down at his hands, which are slightly trembling and he starts to pick at the corner of papers he stacked himself.

“Thank you, for making me a father,” Tobirama finally looks at you, and his voice is unexpectedly soft. The usual hardness in his tone is gone, replaced by this man, that is all soft tight-lipped smiles towards you. He is without the cold exterior that you experience from time to time.

This is Senju Tobirama, the man that you have always seen in him. Here in front of you, he is not the Nidaime Hokage, not the fastest shinobi in this generation, not the hailed politician nor his brother’s keeper.

He is just your husband right, here. Now.

“I know I impose on you a lot, but I also hope that you can depend on me some more. I am your husband,” Tobirama quietly says, his eyes set towards the ground. “I cannot promise that I will be a good father, but I must try. My own child cannot experience the cruelty I grew up with.”

“I know you will,” you tell him, and you give him a grin. “I know that you will protect them and fight for them, and that is what a good father does.”

Tobirama meets your gaze, and he nods. “Go. I will meet you in the bedroom in a moment.”

You smile, and you almost break out into a run, but Tobirama quickly reprimands you.

“Walk, do not run,” you hear him say from his study.

You walk, but you hurry towards the inner garden where you hid the pot of wheat and barley seeds. You pull it out from its hiding place, and you stare at it, joy bubbling deep inside your chest.

Tears prickle your eyes, and you blink them away.

The wheat has begun to grow, and you let out a breath that you have been holding.

You are with a child, and the realization makes you want to jump from excitement. You laugh to yourself, and decide to tell Tobirama your findings later, when the pregnancy is well on its way.

To be continued...

Chapter 6 - Now >>

#Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #tobirama x you #tobirama x reader #naruto fanfiction #angelica writes #you never said goodbye timeline/au #'til death do us part

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darth-mendax · 3 years

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Mendax and the Wolffe: One-shot Fic

A/N: Yes, I made this a while ago, yes it’s dirty, and yes I did it for my enjoyment. I am sorry for making this.

WARNING: It’s a dirty fic, man. You know what you gotta watch for. Stay safe bois. Also, the clones are being nasty lil boys, especially Wolffe being feral

Word Count: 5k-ish

Pairing: Darth Mendax x Commander Wolffe, OC x Wolffe

Ahsoka, Maul and his new, previously Jedi love Eli, weren’t resting on the random forest planet when evening was approaching. Eli had decided to try and save a few new clones from the wrath of this new Empire born from Sidious. Cody was their first target, and were going to supposedly deliver him to Kenobi. I felt it wasn’t wise to bring Maul on that adventure, but Eli argued against my opinion. Wherever Eli went, Maul followed. Now, I was stuck sitting near a growing campfire and surrounded by a couple clones and their downed ships acting more as shelter. I’d only learned their names when we first got here a few days ago.

The clones were relatively easy to tell apart, thank the Maker. The only blonde there was Rex, formerly Captain of the 501st. He had a blonde buzzcut, a clean shave but stubble was close to growing in, and his legs looked like they could kick her head clean off.

Next was a brash clone of the 501st named Fives, easy to pick out from the tattoo of the number five on his temple. He had short hair like Rex, only he had black hair, as well and a goatee like beard. He’d been injured badly, but he was healing relatively fast.

Jesse was next, almost like a child of the 501st group (based on personality). He was playfully flirty to me at times, but overall, was like sunshine after rain. He had a large tattoo of the previous Galactic Republic on his bald head, and a 5 o'clock shadow. Like Fives, he was injured badly but was healing.

Gregor, one of the few who survived relatively unscathed and a republic commando, was a bit shorter than his brothers. He had longer black hair that was neatly styled, and stubble growing in like Jesse. Rumor had it that his hair was much longer once. He was built like a boulder though, with large shoulders and seeming a bit thicker in build than his other brothers. His gentle nature contrasted his look greatly.

Kix was probably the most average looking of all the clones, and their medic. Once in cryo after some mystery mission, got rescued by pirates a good while ago, now helping the injured that survived the Order. He had a short sort of haircut with black hair, and friendly brown eyes like the rest of his brothers. Only, his eyes seemed to be able to comfort anyone and managed to speak in the calmest voices possible.

Echo had a messy sort of story, and his appearance made that possible. His skin was slightly lighter than the deep tan of his brothers, and he had darkened eye sockets, like he was constantly sick (though he was perfectly healthy). Multiple scars could be seen on his head in a particular pattern, and black hair was coming in like the crew cuts of Rex and Fives. He had a handprint on his armor, which made him stand out. He was also practically stuck by Fives’ side at all times, including around the campfire.

The last one was Wolffe, the one clone I knew before the mess Order 66 had caused. He was very different from his brothers. He had a pink scar going over right eye, and in the eye socket was a white cybernetic eye (it made him almost seem like he was blind on that side). He had short black hair like many of his brothers there, but it looked most similar to Kix. He was probably the tallest, even if it was by little over an inch. He had a stubble shadow, like Jesse and Gregor. Like the wolves on Lothal, he was built to fight and it showed. His biceps were certainly the second largest, outranked by Gregor, and thighs able to crush skulls (if he wanted). Without his top half of armor on and relaxing in his blacks, there was the clear outline of abs on his waist. I wasn’t sure I picked that detail up. He nearly killed me when I first arrived with Maul, Eli, and Ahsoka. My eyes remained focused on the fire in front of me, memories flooding my brain.

It was done, the Order initiated and finished in only what seemed like an hour. My clothes were dirtied by dust and almost ratty. Maul was in his usual sith robe attire, minus the usual cloak that hid away his features. We were sitting at a small table in what was like a casual living room. Eli and Ahsoka were whispering to each other nearby, wiping away a few stray tears. This Order had killed many of their friends, and clones alike. Families were shattered and Sidious was to blame, me and Maul knew that for sure. Ahsoka nodded to Eli, and then walked up to the bridge of the ship. Eli fixed her neutral colored Jedi robes and turned to Maul.

“Lucky for us, our ship is arriving at the safety rendezvous soon. I’d be wary of a few clones, they may think you’re against them so. . . don’t act too aggressive.” Maul leaned on the heel of his hand and gave an expression similar to someone raising an eyebrow. “Eli my dear, I’m constantly fueled by anger, driven by spite and revenge for years. Being aggressive is my personality.” I didn’t care to speak or include themselves in conversation. I simply hid in the hood of my Sith robe and remained silent. Eli turned to me, “Hey Mendax, there’s one guy who you’ll know once we arrive. Though I’m not sure he’d be the most happy to see you. Not the biggest fan of Sith still.”

“Don’t humor me. I’m not looking to make friends.”

Eli scoffed, then rolled their eyes. “Alright, fine, sit and brood. But you better not say anything that will make you end up with blaster holes.” I chuckled, then looked Eli in the eye, “If that were to happen, I’d consider it a mercy.” The Jedi turned away and went to join Ahsoka Tano on the bridge. Maul sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I know you’re still hurting, I can sense it. . .”

“I just don’t understand. . . It feels cruel to live. To live in such darkness as overpowering as this. All the death he brought, to us, to the Jedi-”

“I know that’s not the real reason you’re upset, Mendax. . . Savage would want you to live on. He loved you, so dearly.” I was silent, then leaned on Maul’s shoulder. Maul slowly placed a gloved hand on my head. He wasn’t one to regularly give comforting touch, but this. . . this was nice.

“Things will change now, and we’ll move past Sidious’ plans.”

When we were introduced, almost all the clones had aimed their guns at us. Wolffe seemed a bit hesitant to aim at me though, instead aiming at Maul. A few good sassy remarks were thrown, but we all agreed no more killing was needed. Wolffe still kept a close eye on me as days went on, however.

Jesse’s laughter tore me from my thoughts and into his conversation. All of the clones seemed happy, or amused. I glared at them and asked, “What’s so funny, boys?”

“Oh, nothing Mendax. We’re comparing body count and the comments made about us.” Body count? Was this a sick count of all the enemies killed? Fives made an impression of what sounded like a moan, then said, “Oh Fives, you know just how to please me!”

“No way! There’s no way you can please a woman with as rough as a hand like yours!” Nope, definitely not an enemy body count.

My face felt a little hot once I’d realized. I guess I should’ve known that soldiers like clones had needs. They weren’t Jedi so sexual acts were more. . . allowed? Wolffe was the only one who wasn’t talking about who fucked the best or how many men or women they spent a night of pleasure with. Feeling a little bothered plus warmed by the fire, I removed the cloak from around my body.

Fives was the first to try and get Wolffe to join in. “Hey, Wolffe! What’s your body count, hmm? I bet it’s a high one, what with the ‘rugged charm’ I’ve heard some women say about you.”

Wolffe grunted, taking a drink from a small cup he held in one of his hands. Fives went on, “Grunting is not usually an acceptable answer to a question, Wolffe.”

“It is now,” Wolffe replied, eyes landing on me as I sat across from him by the firepit. His gaze seemed to soften, and then he went back to staring at the contents in his cup. Fives decided not to push further, but rather turn to me. “And what about you, Mendax? Did the great Sith lord ever get any love?~”

“As much as I admire the Sith and their passions, we never really see many who use passion in a sense that they fight for someone. Most use passion more as ambition, seeking power and their way.”

“I asked if you had a boyfriend once, not your philosophies,” Fives said, rolling his eyes. I scoffed, and glared at him, “No, does that satisfy your curiosity? I had no one. All I had was Maul to oversee my progress and Savage to. . . to make me feel less lonely.”

“Define less lonely. . .”

Jesse shoved Fives, “Shut up. She’s obviously never had a boyfriend.” Wolffe turned his gaze to me again; I couldn’t tell what emotion was behind his eyes. A few of the brothers muttered to each other, then turned to Wolffe. He caught on to the staring and sneered, “What?”

“So are you going to tell her, or. . .?” Wolffe gave a low growl at Kix. He practically barked at him, “Know your place, soldier. And stop your insane claims.” Kix held his arms up in surrender, and smiled, “Just saying, Commander.” Rex rolled his eyes, then lightly shook his head. Clearly, the captain was getting just as annoyed as Wolffe was at his men. I couldn’t really blame him. Darkness was swallowing the forest around us; Rex added more logs to keep the fire burning.

“So, what’s the sleeping situation, boys? Since the generals and Maul are gone?” Gregor had asked, his meek voice coming through with the brief silence. Echo wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “I already figured it out for you.” He pointed at one of the ships, the largest one of them all. “That one will hold me, Fives, and Rex,” he said. Echo then pointed to the smaller ship next to it, saying, “That one there will be for you, Jesse, and Kix.” The smallest ship there was a simple cruiser, but good enough for a few people to live on, and it was the one Echo pointed to next. “That ship there is where Wolffe and Mendax will be,” he concluded. Rex started to snicker to himself, and tried to cover it with one of his gloved hands. “Something funny, Captain?” Wolffe asked. Rex replied, “No no, it’s nothing. Just laughing at the arrangements.”

“And why is that?”

“You’ll have a ship alone with Mendax. And I don’t want to ruin the moment for the two virgins.”

Wolffe growled loudly at Rex’s comment, clenching the cup tightly in his hand. His voice lowered dangerously low, “How about you shut it, Captain? I’m sure you men would hate to see their leader suddenly get a black eye and busted lip.” Rex squinted at Wolffe, “You think your strength could save you there? You believe that you can take on the Captain of the 501st in a fist fight?”

“Oh, I know it would. My squadron regularly fights in the dirt, so what makes you think this will end with you winning against me.” The two brothers got up and stood in front of each other, Wolffe glaring slightly down at Rex and teeth bared. Rex seemed relatively calm, but a sneer was forming on his features. “How about you prove it, Commander?” Rex challenged. Wolffe stiffened and clenched his fists tight. The two of them raised their fits, ready to fight then and there. Hearing enough banter, I got up and decided to stop the impending fight.

“SILENCE! If you keep bickering, I’ll give you all a good reason to shut up!” The flames of the fire flared, and burned bright for a few moments. Silence followed my shout, besides the cracking of the firewood.

All the clones looked at me in shock, Jesse’s, Kix’s and Fives’ faces all slowly turned to smiles as they looked at Wolffe. He was staring at me, eyes wide and blinking as if he was processing what had happened. I could only imagine that my eyes changed, a little side effect of being Sith. If I was angry enough, they looked just like Maul’s. Rex sat down next to his men, “Sorry Sir.” I huffed, calming down and rubbing the back of my neck. Wolffe made a rumbly noise in the back of his throat, before stomping off. Gregor called out to him, “Where are you going, Wolffe?!”

“To relax! And hit the refresher!” The rest of the clones made attempts to bring Wolffe back, but it was in vain. He’d already entered the ship, and disappeared from view. I sat back down by the fire, hearing the clones burst into some sort of shanty, and had their arms around each other’s shoulders. It was touching, to see them still act like family even after everything. It was almost like Order 66 didn’t happen. But it did.

The moons of the planet were well in the sky, and it’d been nearly an hour since Wolffe went into the ship he and I would supposedly share. The fire was dying, as was the nightly commotion. There was less energy, less blood flowing through the clones’ veins. Growing restless of being quiet while the clones talked amongst themselves, I got up and put my cloak on. I mumbled, “Heading in for the night. . .” before trudging over to the shared ship. I stretched my limbs and back, beginning my walk towards the beds. There were at least five rooms, each one with a decently sized space and bed. Making my way down the hall, I passed by the way leading to the refresher. I paused, hearing that it was still on. “Wolffe must like long hot showers,” I thought to myself. I was about to walk on, when I heard quiet grunting, then what sounded like mumbling.

“Mendax-” I heard, barely heard over the water running in the refresher. A few curses followed, and I felt a bit of panic. Did he hurt himself? Did he know I was here? I slowly walked through the small locker room, seeing Wolffe’s armor and blacks resting on a bench. Moving past them, I peeked into the refresher room.

It was a line of refreshers in glass stalls on the opposite wall from the entrance. The floor was tile, leading into the locker room. Only one of the refreshers had their door closed, somewhat clouded up with steam. The amount of steam in the room made the air humid, and I was sure that my hair was starting to puff up with it. There was a towel on a hook nearby said refresher. Moving closer, but out of view, my face heated up as I looked at what was in front of me.

Wolffe was still in the refresher, but certainly not injured. His eyes were screwed shut, brow furrowed and biting his bottom lip. He was naked of course, water washing over him and moving down his body. Leaning against one of the tile walls of the refresher, one of his arms rested against the wall he leaned against, and his other was in front of him. He had hair on his chest, leading down to a nice trimmed happy trail leading down to his cock, where his hand was a bit. . . busy. He groaned again, his hand wrapped around his cock and moving faster. Wolffe’s head leaned back against the tile, his mouth slightly open now as a soft moan past his lips. He was close, very close.

“Fuck- Mendax~, I want you so bad~. . . Make me feel so good.” Wolffe’s voice was lower by an octave or two, rumbling and lustful.

I’d be lying if that didn’t cause some sort of feeling between my legs. He was so vulnerable, and definitely not bad to look at. We had had our differences before and were becoming something of friends, but this? It was a little unexpected.

Scrambling to get away, I made the mistake of kicking his helmet. It made a clatter that echoed through the whole of the locker room. Ashamed that I’d be caught. I hid behind the small wall of lockers in the middle of the changing room. The noise of the refresher being on stopped, and there was silence. Very tense silence. I heard the sound of bare feet walking on the tile, moving to where Wolffe’s armor was. They stopped, and the silence returned. He was behind the lockers, where I was hiding. Suddenly the footsteps sounded like they moved away and out to the hallway. I quietly breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Slowly, I moved around closer to the refresher room and towards the edge of the locker wall. I peeked around, and looked for Wolffe. He wasn’t there, but his armor was still on the bench. That was odd. . . I turned back and collided with something solid and damp.

I pulled away and found myself staring into a pair of eyes, one an amber like brown, and the other a pale cybernetic white. I froze, and felt immensely flustered. Wolffe had a towel wrapped low around his hips, the happy trail disappearing under the soft white cloth. A few droplets were still moving down Wolffe’s body, and he felt very warm, even just by being so close to him. His cheeks were reddened, and a blank expression on his face. I gulped, swallowing down my nervousness and composing myself.

“What are you doing in here?” Wolffe asked, his voice low and rumbly like he was in the refresher. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms, “Was wondering why you were taking so long in the refresher.” Wolffe didn’t seem to buy my reasoning. He leaned down, trapping me with his hands on either side of my head.

“Really? And you didn’t hear anything?” I shook my head, not bearing to look Wolffe in the eyes. “Liar,” he growled out. He knew, of course he knew. One of his hands grabbed my jaw and forced me to face him.

“Look at me in the eye.” My eyes moved back to lock on Wolffe’s. His human eye was blown with lust, brown being swallowed by inky, hungry black. I found myself looking at his lips, and the feeling between my legs returned. Wolffe tilted my chin up, “I’ll be honest with you. When you said you’d give us a reason to shut up, my mind went to. .. less than innocent ideas. And I couldn’t sit with them all when you were right there and looking so . . . delicious.” I let out an exhale through my nose, and dared to ask, “Like what? Hmm?”

Wolffe let out a guttural growl, and the hand holding my chin moved down to my neck. He gave a light squeeze as his lips moved to whisper in my ear. “I want you to shut me up and kiss me until I forget my fucking name. . . I want to swallow all of your moans into my mouth, know the taste of your lips. I want to feel your tongue, and maybe stop your snark for once.” My thighs were twitching with his words; he didn’t even stutter. My hands found their way on his back, and I raked my nails down the muscle. “Would you like that? Would you like to have me?” he asked. I quietly replied, “I’ve never wanted anything more than that right now. . . but I don’t know what to do. . .”

“Then I’ll show you. . .” Wolffe’s hands found their way to my thighs and he picked me up with ease. He carried me down into the hallway and opened one of the doors leading to a bedroom. I was carried right to the bed, and the door closed behind him. It was doubtful that anyone would come barging in, so there was not much reason to lock it. He was already trying to take off my robes as he carried me, rushed kisses being pressed to my jawline. Wolffe was desperate, and the desire coursing through him was infectious.

His lips crashed against mine once my back hit the bed, and my legs were wrapped around his hips. They were softer than I anticipated, and much more intoxicating than I believed kisses should be. I felt drunk, limp as Wolffe pushed his tongue into my mouth and hands explored under my now messy robes. He made quick work of the top half of my clothing, almost ripped them in the process. Wolffe’s lips moved down to my neck; my head moved to the side so he had better access. A rumbling noise went through his chest like a building growl and he bit down into the flesh of my neck. He bit hard enough that I whined at the pinching pain. My feeble attempts of squirming were stopped by the weight of Wolffe moving on top of me: one of his thighs between mine, and hands pinning my wrists down. The gesture of biting and leaving dark bruises on my neck was repeated until my neck and collarbones were littered with the marks like a night sky, varying in size and color. Taking his time and kissing back up to my mouth, Wolffe gave me a tender, sweet kiss.

When he pulled away, I felt cold and my lips felt like they were buzzing. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, in honesty. . .” Wolffe muttered, eyes looking over my face and his handiwork. His hands cradled my face lightly, like a feather caressing my skin. The innocence and purity of the gesture was lost when his thumb brushed over my lips and lightly tugged my bottom lip down. I opened my mouth and he pushed his thumb in, groaning as it was coated in my saliva. “Such a pretty little mouth,” he mumbled.

Wolffe pulled his hand away, then moved to pull off my pants. He started breathing heavily once he had a glance at the mess between my legs. “Fuck, you’re soaking,” was what he said. Without another word, he pulled me to the edge of the bed and knelt between my legs. Moving them so they rested on his shoulders, Wolffe began to mark up my thighs just like my neck. The feeling between my legs was starting to become unbearable, and I was aching to be touched. “You know, you could stop teasing and get to the point,” I grumbled. Wolffe responded by a smack on my thigh, looking up at me. The scene in front of me was sinful, and I thought it was all a dream since it seemed too good to be true.

“You want me to get to the point?” I nodded.

“Then I won’t stop til you’re begging,” he replied before moving his head down.

The feeling was heavenly, Wolffe’s tongue working through my folds and up to my clit. My hands found their way into his thick hair, tugging on his short black locks. He groaned at the action, then focused on working my clit. My body was twitching, and my back began to arch off of the bed. “Fuck- Oh Maker- Wolffe~!” were just a few of the words that spilled from my mouth out of pleasure. I tried to push him even closer, digging my heels into his muscular back and my thighs squeezing his head. It was almost embarrassingly fast how close I got in a matter of seconds, and my orgasm came with little warning. The pleasure was white hot, I felt like I was floating and my moans filled the room. Wolffe worked through it, and even a moment after I’d come down from the blissful high. My legs were twitching, and in the pale dim lights that were on in the room, I saw Wolffe look up at me with a smug look and my wetness on his chin. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and hummed, “My assumption was correct, you do taste delicious.” I sighed and flopped back against the bed to catch my breath.

“Maker above, that was nice. . .” Wolffe chuckled at my comment.

“It’ll get better.”

“Hm?” I looked down to see Wolffe taking off his towel and his cock ready for attention. He was big, as far as I could tell. Moving himself closer, Wolffe held onto my legs and I felt him nudge my core. “I’ll go slow, ok?” His voice was quiet and gentle again. I pulled him down into a quick kiss, and gave a soft smile. “I know you won’t hurt me,” I said. Wolffe gave a short nod and held onto my waist. He pushed himself in slowly, and his jaw clenched tightly as he did. A struggling groan came from his mouth, and was joined by a weak moan of mine. Once fully in, he was panting and practically laying on top of me. Wolffe was cursing under his breath, resting his forehead against mine. “This feels- mm fuck- way better than I imagined. . . Fuck me, you’re killing me over here,” he managed to rasp out. As if I wasn’t aroused enough, his praise pushed me even further.

I held his face in my hands, watching as he looked at me with a half-lidded, dazed gaze. “You can move now,” I said. He didn’t move at first, and I was about to tell him again until he interrupted me.

With a voice lowering a good few octaves, he asked, “You want me to move, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes.” My impatience was getting to me.

Wolffe gave a grin, “Then beg.”

I could only assume I made a somewhat amusing shocked expression, because Wolffe chuckled. “You heard me, beg for me to move,” he said. I didn’t want to, at first. After all, I was a Sith and he was just a clone. I could’ve overpowered him and take control easily, yet I didn’t. My desire was getting the best of me, and I could barely move from underneath him. So I begged for Wolffe.

“Please- Please move, I need you.”

“Please who? What do you call me, sweetheart?” This was near torture at this point, but I went along.

“Please Sir. . . Please move~.” He smiled again, and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.

“There’s my good girl~.”

Wolffe moved slowly, but Maker did it feel great. The slow drag of him against my walls was enough to make me start digging my nails into his shoulders. He wasn’t patient though; soon he was sitting up and setting a brutal pace. I was moaning, loud enough to probably end up being heard from the hallway. Wolffe’s brow was furrowed, but the smug grin on his face told me that he was enjoying having power over me. “Moaning like a bitch for me, and I’m the only one who can do that, right?~ Only I can make you moan and desperately beg~.” I tried to growl at him, to try and show that I didn’t like the degradation. My body betrayed me, and I could only moan and try to move in response instead. He was growling and panting, keeping his pace and his gaze staying on me. “Look at you, covered in my marks and bites. Kriffing beautiful and all mine to look at~. All fucking mine~.” Given that biting seemed to be the way he showed his affection, it was no surprise that it came with possessiveness as well. When one of his hands came down to rub my clit, I was already close again.

“Maker- Wolffe, Sir- I’m so fucking close-”

“You close? You wanna make a mess all over my cock? You wanna beg for me to make you finish?”

All of the pride and dignity I had was long gone by then, and of course I begged. Of course I said, “Yes, please! Please, Sir!” I was glad he was so merciful. He replied, “Now, you can finish.” And I did, shaking and grabbing at the sheets. I heard myself almost yelling, and I’m pretty sure I screamed out Wolffe’s name too. Wolffe’s pace stuttered, and began to get sloppy. Not a few moments later, he finished as well, spilling himself inside of me and throwing his head back in bliss. He made what sounded like a groan, or maybe he was biting back a moan. Either way, we were both very satisfied by the end.

In a dazed and half awake state, we managed to fix ourselves under the sheets and get comfortable. I found myself clinging to Wolffe’s side, resting my head on his chest as his arm was wrapped around me. His thumb traced small circles into my back. A realization came to me that night; I’d fallen for him. Badly. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then, but I knew I would when the time was right. With fatigue pulling at my eyelids, I curled up next to Wolffe and slept soundly for the first time in a good while.

Bonus:

The clones were heading to their ships for the night, but they made a decision to just crowd the ship farthest away from Mendax and Wolffe. In a crowded and simple room with bunks, the clones whispered to each other. “I told you it would happen, now pay up!” Fives whisper-yelled to Echo. Echo begrudgingly handed him a few credits, and huffed. Jesse was also passing credits in the dimness. Rex sat up slightly and rubbed his eyes, “Men, what are you doing?” Fives gave a half-hearted laugh, “I’m surprised you slept through it. Wolffe and Mendax just did the deed. I made a bet that they would do it tonight, so now the boys owe me. Well, except you and Gregor.” Fives looked over to Gregor, who was busy hiding his head under his pillow. “I think he’s scarred for life,” Jesse added. Kix interrupted, “Yeah yeah, you won. Now can we sleep?” “They should be done now,” Fives replied. Rex rolled his eyes and went back to sleep.

“Go to bed, boys.”

“. . . Yes Sir.”

There was a brief silence, and a moment of peace.

“. . . Should we tell them we heard?”

“No way, Jesse. They’d kill us.”

“. . . What if we told Maul and Eli when they get back, Fives?”

“They’d kill them, well, Maul would.”

Another silence.

“. . . Who do you think started it?”

“GO TO BED, BOYS!”

“Sorry, Rex. . .”

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x oc #oc x wolffe #the clone wars #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars the clone wars #darth mendax #pls don't judge me #i'm just a writer #the cloons #clone bois #clone troopers #commander wolffe smut

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

Text

Inch By Inch (Sequel to Seven Inches - Tailor!AU)

A sequel to Seven Inches, written for both our TwoKinkyBeans July Exchange plus the line prompt that Lien sent me:

“Oh” Tony coos as Peter gives him another quick gasp. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?”

I hope you guys enjoy!!!

Warnings: nff, smut, handcuffs, light dom/sub, pet names, a size kink I didn’t quite intend to write but IT HAPPENED.

Peter stares at the supple material that’s spread out all over the desk. He swallows and reaches out for it. His fingers trace past the tightly woven twill texture. May, from the other side of the shop, cocks an eyebrow at him. “You’re alright up there?” Peter’s cheeks flare up right away. He tries to come up with a somewhat plausible excuse as to why he takes such a sudden interest in the navy blue material. He can’t think of any. The only thing that keeps replaying in his mind is Tony’s promise. He can nearly feel the man’s hot breath tickling on his ear again. “Make that tweed suit yourself, kid, and it’ll be the one I wear when I take that sweet little ass for the first time.” The man had slapped is butt and resumed their earlier conversation as though nothing had happened. Fuck, he wants Tony so bad.

“I, eh-” Peter stutters, “-I want to learn how to make a suit myself.” May squints at him, searching his face. “Why do I have a feeling this has something to do with a certain customer?” She presses her lips together, but her eyes betray how she’s trying to hold back a wide grin. Peter smiles sheepishly. “I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about.” “Mmmh.”

Peter’s focus is nowhere to be found. He wants to listen to May as she gently explains different sewing techniques to him, he truly wants to. Yet, it’s only Tony’s voice he hears inside his mind. Gosh. He wonders what it’ll feel like to have Tony inside of him. Sure, he’s been topped by other guys before, but nothing is comparable to the size of Tony’s massive cock. He can already imagine it sticking out of the thick pants proudly. The suit itself would be a hot as fuck look without question. Would Peter be able to feel the structure of the fabric against his thighs? Feel every little fiber?

Peter craves it all. The man’s voice, his hot gaze. Since the ‘Shop Incident’, they haven’t even laid hands on each other again. Okay, well, they had. But nothing truly sexual. Just chaste kisses and whispered promises as it’d been impossible to find space in their shared schedules. Peter has been very occupied with his newly found Spider-Man duties now that Tony had taken the role as a mentor too. His new suit is insanely good, and Peter loves patrolling in it and exploring all the latest tech the man included. Tony has been busy also, and he hasn’t made it into the shop once.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, get your ass back to earth.” “Wha-” Peter breathes out startled and blinks a few times. There, he’s got no focus.

No.

Focus.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but your crush is as big as Stark’s wealth.” His aunt shakes her head almost teasingly. “Aaaargh, May, how do I get rid of it?” “You don’t. Well, you will eventually. But while it’s there, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You’ll be walking with your head on cloud nine for quite some time.”

Peter is silent for a few seconds, letting her words sink in. “Do you… Do you think I’m too naive?” “How- Why do you think that?” “He’s Tony Stark, May. Am I… Delusional for thinking he might actually want me?” “It’s clear he does, isn’t it?” “I mean…” His voice trails off. May finally puts the fabric back down on the table. “Yeah?” “More? I mean more. Oh, I don’t know. I don’t even know if I want more, then how can I even think about what he might want from me?” May makes a shushing noise, shaking her head and grabbing Peter’s hands within her own. She smiles sweetly at him in the way only she can. A warm, comforting feeling spreads in his chest, and his panic dies down.

“Peter,” she whispers and tucks a loose curl back behind his ear. “As much as I understand your nerves… They’re only natural. And there’s no hurry. Now tell me, what’s with the suit? Every time you see it, you get a little weird.” “He… He made a promise about it.” “Oh?” “Mmmh, I’ll spare you the details.” “Oh.” She chuckles. “In that case, why don’t we get back to making it?” “That sounds like a solid plan.”

And that’s what they do.

Peter’s heart hammers in his chest when his eyes dart up to the top of the immensely large building that is the Stark Tower. He’s been here before, obviously. But never as Peter. Always as Spider-Man- with the other Avengers around as well. Now, he’s just Peter. A tailor-in-learning. On his way to deliver a handmade suit to his crush/mentor/hero. Tony. Tony Stark. The richest man in the States.

How the fuck did he get here.

He stares at the intimidating entrance. Men and women in their sophisticated clothes walk in and out of the building. He feels terribly out of place, but he takes a deep breath and pushes through his nerves. The large, busy foyer nearly overloads his sense. However, a few deep breaths help him to shut out the visual and audible stimuli. He strides over to the reception area and smiles politely at the lady behind the computer. “Hi! I’m Peter, Peter Parker, Miss. I uh, I’m here to see Mr. Stark? About his new suit?” He holds up the package to show it. The woman returns his smile and nods. “Let me check his schedule, Sir.”

Sir. Peter almost snorts but feels very proud at the same time.

“Mr. Stark is expecting you in his private quarters. Here,” she says. She hands him a keycard and then points towards the elevator. “The keycard grants you access to both the elevator and his suite. It’ll take you to the right floor automatically. Please hand it in when you leave the building.” Peter nods, his jaw slack as he takes in all the information. He slides the keycard through his fingers, twisting- turning and playing with it nervously. Pressing his lips together, Peter thanks the lady once more and makes his way towards the elevator.

It isn’t until he actually sets foot into the metal box that he realizes what exactly the woman had told him. He nearly gasps. His heart misses a beat and his cheeks heat up.

Private quarters.

Oh God- Oh God. Tony has set up the meeting in his private quarters. That means something. Doesn’t it? Or is he the type of man that doesn’t care about random people stalking through his living space? Peter has no clue. He hopes he’s an exception to the general rule. That no one else is allowed in the man’s suite.

He hopes… Well- He hopes Tony and him are going to have sex. Real sex this time. Tony promised. He told Peter they would. He wouldn’t back down now, would he? Peter sighs, tapping his foot in restless motion. Peter eyes the small display indicating the floor they’re at and inhales slightly when he sees they’re nearly there. This is it. This is-

Ding.

Peter clutches the suit a little closer and hesitantly steps out. Everything in the Tower is absolutely gigantic, and apparently, the suite is no exception to that. Peter can’t even imagine having… This much space. The glass windows let the sunlight cast a golden glow over the man’s presumable costly possessions. He takes it all in. The large, plush sofa. The pool table. The fucking hot tub in the middle of the room with circular descending steps around. A soft, instrumental beat is playing through the hidden speakers. Peter wonders how on earth he will find Tony seeing that this is just his leisure room. “Mr.-” “Ah, Parker, there you are. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Peter turns around startled and stares at the man leaning against the side of the bar. A smirk plays on Tony’s lips and he raises his glass. “You want some?” “I, eh-” Peter babbles, still a little dumbfounded. Tony flails his free hand, and Peter decides a quick why the fuck not. If he’s old enough to fuck whoever he wants, he can sure take a small drink, right?

A few minutes later, they’re seated on the large plush sofa. Peter sips his Tequila Sunrise cocktail. Tony insisted that Peter would enjoy it and much to Peter’s liking and dismay, Tony was right. He’s not 100% sure what’s in there, but he sure isn’t complaining. “So,” Tony smirked, “-I see you brought a new suit?” Peter eyes the suit, still neatly packed in its cover. “I- I did, Mr. Stark. Would you like to try it on?” Tony tilts his head. His eyes burning, prodding and oh God- Peter can feel his own heartbeat speed up. “Show it to me first, boy.”

They stare at each other for a brief moment. They both know what’s happening. They’re slipping back into their roles. Just as they had in the shop. Tony’s voice already dropping a notch, the rough scratch in his words catching on his tongue so sweetly. So… Authoritative. “Of course, Sir,” Peter gushes and rushes to pull the zipper down. Carefully, he takes out the suit, smiling slightly at the feel of the thick, textured fabric as it slides past his hands. Tweed suits are not very high in demand, but they definitely radiate a certain chic vibe. Maybe because it’s so timeless. “Here you go.”

Peter stands up, holding the piece by the clothing hanger and blushes when he hears Tony’s appreciative hum. The man stands up too. Slow. Calculating. He strides closer, making Peter’s dick twitch every time the man’s leather soles hit the floor. When Tony stops right in front of him, the older man grins. “Oh, isn’t it just gorgeous,” he coos. “Almost as beautiful as you. Tell me, did you make this?” “I-I did, Sir. My aunt, uhm- May. She obviously helped me get the technique right.” “Goooooood.”

A pause.

“Now, be a good boy and help me change clothes.” “Yes, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers breathlessly. For a short second, Peter waits for Tony to make the first move. It never comes- oh. A strangled noise escapes from his throat when he takes a step closer. His fingers moving up to help Tony get out of his cardigan sweater. He’s the one making the movements, and yet it feels almost humiliating to undress Tony. In the very best way, of course. “Am I doin’ it right?” “Mmh- Just keep it up, honeycomb.” Peter nearly cracks up at the pet name, but the lustful look in Tony’s eyes keeps him going. He’s deliberately not being very careful. His fingers brushing past Tony’s naked, warm skin at every possible opportunity where he slides the fabric off the man’s shoulders. The icy, blue light coming from the Arc Reactor shining freely onto Peter’s face. It’s… Such a powerful device. Peter groans. “I can feel the vibrations,” he mumbles as he keeps staring at it. His hands slowly trace down now. He definitely should work a little faster if he wants the man inside him sooner rather than later. It’s not gonna happen automatically. His hands work on the fly of the pants and he tugs them down impatiently. Then, he drops onto his knees. Carefully untying Tony’s shoelaces and taking them off together with the pants. All that’s left now are the tight, black undies. “Leave them on for now. Go on, dress me.”

“Oh, oh!” Peter whimpers out loud. His arms are shackled to the headboard above his head. His legs are draped over Tony’s still fully clothed shoulders and the man’s cock pounds into him harsh and fast. The soft, thick wool pants have slid down to Tony’s knees where it rests on the sturdy mattress. “Oh” Tony coos as Peter gives him another quick gasp. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?” “P-Please, gimme everything, every last inch of you,” Peter pants heavily. He feels so incredibly full. It’s nothing like he’s ever experienced before, and it only aids in riding his ecstasy more and more. He can’t really feel Tony’s balls slapping against his skin yet, and somehow it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted at this moment. “More, need more!” “Yes, ’m gonna make you fall apart at the seams,” Tony growls. He slows down his movements for a good second and tightens his secure grip on Peter’s hips, dragging him up a bit. Peter snorts at the pun, but the light chuckle morphs into a loud and pleading moan when Tony slowly but surely fills Peter up wholly. The weight of his balls finally settling against his skin. Peter’s eyes water at the near overwhelming intensity of pure happiness coursing through him. He did it. He took a full seven inches inside of him.

Everything that happens after that is one big blur. Tony manages to hold him up with just one hand, using the other to drag sweet strokes on Peter’s hard and leaking cock. Everything just feels so goddamn perfect, the fire in his stomach building and building and building and- “I can’t- I can’t stop oh fuck oh Tony!!” Peter cries out, cum spurting from his cock right onto his chest. His eyes are pressed shut, his head pressed back into the soft, fluffy pillow. “I keep coming...” he mumbles completely dazed. It’s true though, he can feel the muscles jerk- aiding in forcing even the last few drops out of him. Tony’s hips stutter. His breathing simply stops as he presses into Peter with such force that it brushes past Peter’s overstimulated prostate again. It stays there when the cum oozes from the man’s dick. It fills him up, Peter can feel the slight pulsing inside of him.

“Oh, sweet boy…” Tony murmurs after a few seconds of undisturbed serenity. The firm grip suddenly becomes a very soft caress on Peter’s tired muscles, and it’s only then that he feels they’re trembling. Slowly, Tony helps him put his legs down. As a result, his cock slips out, and Peter gasps when his hole desperately tries to clench around nothing after the fast pounding it received. “Mmh- feels cold,” he mumbles. Tony is quick to respond to that, shifting around so he’s able to tug the sheets up to cover the exhausted boy. Peter lets out an appreciative groan. “So,” he smiles sleepily, the tiredness catching up with him, “-do you like your new suit?” Tony snorts, and he nods. “It’s perfect, such hidden talent in you, Spider-Boy.” “Oh, go fuck yourself,” he giggles. Tony tilts his head playfully. “Nah, I’d rather fuck you. After a short break, obviously.”

Peter gives the man a teasing push, only to draw him down and nuzzle into his chest. He might not be sure what Tony wants from him, but Peter sure as fuck wants cuddles right here, right now. “Hug me.” “As you wish, honeycomb.”

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ataraxiies · 4 years

Text

✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦ ︴boyfriend material

synopsis: round one of headcanons concerning the hq boys as your boyfriend!

★˚｡ —⌇characters: kageyama tobio (181.9 cm of bf material) , sugawara koushi (174.3 cm of bf material), akaashi keiji (182.3 cm of bf material), oikawa tooru (184.3 cm of bf material), & tendou satori (187.7 cm of bf material)

★˚｡ — ⌇ genre: fluff

★˚｡ — ⌇ warnings: n/a

★˚｡ — ⌇ author’s note: i know this prolly has been done a dozen times before (i rlly hope these aren’t repetitive), but this just seemed like the proper headcanon set to start off with! so voilà: my first series of headcanons! hope you enjoy! \(*´꒳`*)/

✶▐ kageyama tobio ↝

✦ even if he’s a socially awkward boy, a bit rough around the edges, kageyama could make such a sweet boyfriend (i mean having you as his s/o makes him softer alright). he’s passionate about the things and, in this case, person, he cares about, and it shows through his actions more than his words.

✦ now i’m not saying he’ll write you love poems & serenade you in the night or anything crazy like that . . . as i definitely headcanon him as the type to be a unintentionally mean to his s/o.

✦ but hear me out! those nicknames he calls you may be a little mean in spirit (“dummy”, “idiot”, “stupid”, etc) but the way he says it-- it’s more on the endearing side than mean-spirited. you’re his adorable dummy, okay?

✦ he’s the classic case of “if the boy is mean to you, he likes you”— basically a tsundere lol. he has probably accidentally made you cry once, but since then, it’s been his priority to never make you cry again. his apology to that: it was very sincere & short, and you could tell by the grim look on his face that he felt bad. all is forgiven-

✦ he’s very shy about physical affection especially in the early stages of your relationship; the boy just tenses up whenever you initiate a hug or even hold his hand. you’re prolly worried about how rigid he is tbh. but... not to worry! over time, he’ll ease up & melt into it. maybe even initiating it himself for once (yeah step up, kags).

✦ not gonna lie, he’s gonna be a bit clueless at times. also- insensitive, dense & just outright awkward (*cough* “the course of true love never did run smooth” *cough*) . . . but the reason for this is you’re probably his first significant other, so this whole concept of being your boyfriend is foreign to him.

✦ he still puts up A+ effort because he really does want you to be happy. he’ll be good at remembering some of the small details (your birthday for one). besides, he’s straightforward, so if he’s unsure about what he’s supposed to do, he’ll ask.

✦ kageyama definitely is more chivalrous than he appears! if you’re shivering from the cold, he’ll gruffly inquire, “why didn’t you dress better?” ... while he takes off his jacket to cover around you gently.

✦ this just goes to show his love language is most definitely either: acts of service or quality time. later on in the relationship, as your bond deepens, his love language may change to physical touch. he’s just never been one for words, so i can’t see words of affirmation for him.

✦ he’s not sure how to handle you or comfort you if you’re sad, but he probably ends up listening quietly & giving you his full attention. you’re taken aback by his level of concentration on you.

✦ by the way— he can be brutally honest, so if he ends up telling you a compliment then you know it’s genuine.

✦ kageyama has a habit of looking... kinda surly all the time?? but that’s just his face! he’s always content hanging out with you, be it tossing a volleyball back and forth or walking around town on a date.. but truly, the boy adores volleyball dates... like if you don’t play, he’ll try to teach you even at the risk of being made fun of by his upperclassmen (looking at nishinoya and tanaka specifically...). but, if you do play, practicing together regularly is lowkey a thing between you two.

✦ unfortunately, he’s bad at texting. the world’s dryest texter... the king of one word replies: “okay”, “sure”, “no”, “yeah”... even the dreaded “k”. it’s gotten to the point when you’re surprised if he answers back with more than a single word.

✦ communication may be a bit tough at first— but as long as you guys are equally honest & open, there is no such thing as a problem you two can’t solve.

✦ one more thing: steal his sweatshirts!! he’ll be so flustered at how cute you look in his sweatshirt. the boy ofc won’t admit, but yeah you doing that makes him so soft & makes him want to hold you in his arms.

✶▐ sugawara koushi ↝

✦ this boy would make such a god-tier boyfriend— the type that even your dad would have to approve of because sugawara is that attentive & supportive.

✦ of course, he does have a mischievous side to watch out for... but honestly that makes him ten times more dateable in my book.

✦ i get the sense that he once joking called you princess.. and then it just kinda stuck?? like, he probably has a plethora of endearing nicknames for you, but his favorite is princesss. he treats you like one, too.

✦ he, for sure, does cute good morning & good night texts like: “good morning, princess! ☀️ hope you have a good day & i can’t wait to see you on our date later ” & “good night!! 😘 i wish we could spend more time together... but make sure you have 8-10 hours of sleep so you’re fully rested ! ”.

✦ he’s so loving & he really looks out for you... he’s responsible and sensible by nature. so yeah, that’s probably why your mom is looking at you with those eyes that basically say “you picked a good one”.

✦ however— as mentioned before, sugawara... isn’t as angelic as he may appear. as much as he loves doting on you, he adores playfully teasing you, too! your flustered expression just makes him feel some kinda way.

✦ he probably lovingly teased you even before becoming a couple. why? to grab your attention of course. you appreciate that he never crossed the line, and that he kept it lighthearted.

✦ his love language?? why not all? i mean, i can definitely see words of affirmation (the boy can whip up some really smooth words okay) & physical touch being his main ones. he just can’t help but say what he feels about you; it’s no surprise it’s all good things. but he also adores soft touches... like he may be a bit needy in the sense that he adores holding your hand, or softly pulling you into an embrace just to have you close to him, or giving you a soft head pat—

✦ he may come off as clingy & protective (sugamama—), but he means well! plus, he’s selfless to a fault & always puts you first. problems in your relationship may stem from the fact he neglects his own needs (which adjsdeheh so flipping bittersweet).

✦ he definitely is so touched/moved when you essentially try to pay him back. for example, something as simple as initiating a hug, or giving a meaningful gift, or just hyping him up when he’s feeling down... like JUST seeing his beaming smile is more than enough for you to fall in love with him all over again.

✦ suga doesn’t strike to me as the jealous type, but he does have natural instincts that may make him protective?? like, in his mind, he rationally knows that he’s the one for you, but at the same time, he can’t help but occassionally let others overtly know you’re taken! catch him giving you a surprise kiss when he’s listening to his instincts-

✦ on a different note, your dates with sugawara are especially cute! like, sugawara works to make things run smoothly. you probably go on all the typical dates like movie night or dinner date (he without fail offers to pay), but doing so with sugawara makes it so more fun!

✦ he treats you right: he walks you home, he listens to you with no distraction, he happily lends you his jacket/sweatshirt, and he even gives you piggback rides (even if you’re like “no, no i’m too heavy—”, he’s quick to say “nonsense! besides, i’m pretty strong you know.. i do work out, y/n)”.

✦ by the way, daichi & the whole karasuno volleyball squad totally approve of your relationship. it’s so touching how they support you and sugawara (even if it’s by whistling when he innocently pecks you on the cheek or something)-

✶▐ akaashi keiji ↝

✦ akaashi keiji . . . you mean the epitome of boyfriend material?? i’m not biased i swear.

✦ given that he’s blunt, i can imagine a decent amount of girls turning him away as a potential boyfriend. . . even if he’s such a pretty boy.

✦ but you?? the one who insisted on being with him because of his overall personality & being? not just his looks?? yeah, you better believe he does treat you right.

✦ i just have to say it: STUDY DATES.

✦ akaashi is very smart, so i feel he’d make such a good peer tutor like you don’t even know! he’ll be great at explaining certain problems in a way that even the teacher may fail at doing, and more importantly, he knows how to motivate you to study.

✦ whether you yourself are a smart bean or not, he will cunningly offer sweet rewards to get you to study & retain the needed information. he’s a little more sneaky than you give him credit for— he knows what he’s doing, playing this game.

✦ of course he just wants an excuse to hug & maybe even kiss you - but he swears that he’s doing this for your own good, which technically isn’t a lie.

✦ bokuto definitely helped orchestrate you two getting together. he’s the ultimate wingspiker as well as wingman if you know what i mean. bokuto often made plans for the three of you, and uh, coincidentally he had other things come up the day of those planned meetups (but he didn’t really fool akaashi-). even so, bokuto also somehow expedited the process of akaashi opening up to you, and you’re just... hella grateful.

✦ akaashi is quiet & reserved; it takes a decent amount of time for him to let down his walls... but it’s worth it! once he opens up to you, you find there’s more to him than meets the eye. i mean that could be said for anyone, but akaashi is more protective & sweet to his s/o than people have guessed.

✦ he’s not overly doting or affectionate, but it’s the small things he does that show you he cares. he regularly texts you to see if you’re doing okay or if you got home safe. he makes sure to hover a little closer to you in a way that’s shielding you if he senses someone eyeing you with ill intentions. he doesn’t hesitate to buy you a snack or a drink if your stomach growls (to which you may blush profusely for) or if you look particularly parched. he’s quietly attentive and only the super observant people can catch on to that fact.

✦ acts of service may just be his main love language! he’s ALWAYS looking out for you & doing things that, in retrospect, is really thoughtful & heartwarming.

✦ even his gifts reflect how much time he spends on thinking about you. for example, you’ll be like “akaashi how’d you know i wanted this?” and he’ll simply reply “i remembered seeing you eye this in that one shop we passed by, so i bought it the other day-” and you’re just like “akaashi... that was like eight months ago how did you remember—” “ . . . ”

✦ it’s not to say he’s perfect (imeanifeellikeheisbutthat’sbesidesthepoint) ! he does have moments where he just can’t help but feel a little clingy especially if it’s just the two of you?? like there are moments where he’s very vulnerable around you, and just needs you close to him. it’s moments like these where he’ll pretty much be desiring cuddles and soft kisses— he’ll die if you end up telling bokuto about this side of him though. it’s like a secret side only you get to see, alright?

✦ he gets a bit flustered with pda though... like small pecks and hugs and hand holding is all good, but full on making out is a rare occassion (perhaps when he’s feeling a bit possesive??).

✦ also- just one more thing... akaashi can have sarcastic humor, but in your relationship, you can tell when he’s being serious or if he’s simply teasing you. in fact, the two of you joke around quite a bit?? his laugh is so beautiful. which is so wholesome because that means you’re at that level where akaashi isn’t closed up!

✶▐ oikawa tooru ↝

✦ we all know oikawa got dumped by his girlfriend due to him being “obsessed with volleyball” (cue that scene where it’s nighttime ‘n he’s watching volleyball film with intense concentration)... so the fact he’s got a significant other who accepts how passionate he is about this sport makes him happy beyond words!

✦ so happy that he makes it his obligation to rub it in his teammates’ faces. it makes his teammates royally pissed off especially iwaizumi. of course when it’s on the volleyball court, he’s dialed in, but off the court, he excitedly rambles about the cute or maybe funny things you do. he just loves bragging about you.

✦ if he ever hears about you bragging about having him or hyping him up, he’ll catch all the uwus. it just makes his ego swell ngl. but if you ever hype him up in front of him?? hoo... he’ll combust; it’ll move him so much. he’ll sheepishly say “thank you” because it just caught him off guard.

✦ he pulls you in for cute selfies & pictures literally everywhere you go. it may get old, but the pictures serve as visuals for memories. plus, they always come out good because he knows how to work a camera- his go to pose is the peace sign with his boyish smile.

✦ oikawa’s social media ends up consisting of three things: volleyball, family & you... but ever since you guys started dating, you make quite a lot of appearances on his social media. as such, his teammate tease for this; “it’s basically a fan account for y/n” — kunimi probably.

✦ unfortunately, you may have to deal with some jealous people given that your boyfriend is hella popular. and it’s tiresome because where do people get off?? but, part of the reason why oikawa is so open with his romantic gestures is to show the others that you’re the only one for him. it’s not a question; he’ll choose you over a fan anyday.

✦ oikawa... can be lowkey childish, and i can imagine him being pretty touchy-feely (his love language being physical touch or words of affirmation most likely??). again he’s a bit of a show off, so pda may be a prevalent thing. he’ll probably sit close to you, and he’ll urge you to lay your head on his shoulder if you’re feeling lethargic. or he may give you a surprise kiss when he think you look cute- he can’t resist. but i can imagine him backing off if it makes you uncomfy! he does prize your comfort above his own needs!

✦ he’ll also be much like a puppy in a relationship?? he especially likes it when you initiate those cute couple things- it’s usually him taking the lead, but he’ll adore it when it’s you for a change who wants the affection- it may go two ways: a) he teases you and eventually gives you what you want or b) he just gives in because you’re too cute!

✦ oikawa is an avid texter, responding back pretty quickly (unless he’s at volleyball practice)... anyway, he doesn’t hesitate to send you funny things he found or articles that affirms something he said in turn proving him right about that or just checking in on you. he uses a decent amount of emojis, too, so it’s always amusing to see his barrage of texts. he probably saves texting “i love you” after saying it aloud rather than doing so on a screen first.

✦ why do i feel like you guys go on fun dates?? like take his interest in aliens! for one date destination, you guys probably have visited a site where aliens allegedly landed! and after, you just watch cool sci-fi movies together with plenty of snacks & blankets to cuddle up in. and perhaps on a different date, you guys go to a haunted house (catch oikawa screaming louder than you lol).

✦ he loves it when you support him at his volleyball games!! like, he’ll feel fired up to show off for you because you’re there & he wants your validation okay? (not sure if he’s the type to point to his s/o in the crowd after a good play but maybe??) he’ll also return the favor, supporting you in whatever endeavors you pursue!

✦ speaking of support... his teammates, despite teasing oikawa for being, well, oikawa, definitely support you guys! like, someone who can keep up with oikawa & his antics?? they’re impressed there’s someone like that out there.

✶▐ tendou satori ↝

✦ tendou satori as a boyfriend?? actually more boyfriend material than you’d initially think. like sure, he’ll mess with you a little to evoke cute reactions, but where it counts, he’ll treat you so well.

✦ given that tendou has been bullied & made fun of for his appearance (and name), i feel like he’d never go as far as to make you feel the way he felt when he was branded as a “monster”. he keeps his teasing pretty lighthearted, and he’d never want to seriously degrade you ever.

✦ i feel tendou does have his moments where his confidence is at an all time low. and he naturally seeks you out for reassurance & comfort because your very presence calms him and gives him a mood boost. he visibly lights up if you offer to come over to his dorm room for much needed comfort huggles. it’s times like those that he really feels lucky you’re his and he’ll make sure to return the favor tenfold!

✦ speaking of huggles, tendou’s hugs tend to be pretty tight i’d imagine. like the kind that squeezes you with all the love he wants to show you? he just loves you so much, and he feels his words won’t be enough to convey that. i think he’d love to pull you in for hugs at spontaneous times; not that you’re complaining. also- if you run your hands through his hair during hugs, it drives him crazy—

✦ he’s probably into pda — he’d gladly show you off because he truly believes he struck gold when you became his s/o!! but, he may be receptive to the offhanded comments about you deigning to date someone like tendou. at which point, if you pull him in for a kiss then & there, his spirits would be quite lifted. he doesn’t mind being caught off guard like that, and he’ll definitely try to get one more kiss-

✦ his love language is for sure physical touch! he enjoys the hugging & kissing component of dating a lot; he can’t keep his hands to himself. catch him tryna initiate tickle fights. besides, he practically lives on your physical affection, and he gets a lil’ greedy, wanting more. of course, if you’d ask him for affection, he’ll be lightning quick to give it (well maybe after teasing you for your openness, not that he truly minds it ofc)!

✦ on a totally different note! tendou does enjoy drawing out fun reactions from you. like, he’s the type of boyfriend to scare his s/o for the fun of it... for example, you’re casually waiting around for tendou, and the next thing you know he totally shocked you with his tight hug from behind. it’s sweet & you weren’t expecting it but man that scared you when you didn’t realize who it was at first!! you probably become more alert of your surroundings due to this. of course, he apologized for scaring you, but couldn’t help his chuckle.

✦ he definitely texts you about the randomest things... like, you’re always kept on your toes because you just don’t know what to expect from him when he’s texting?? like, one day, he’ll text you a really cute good morning and the next day, he sends a random meme without any context. by the way, there’s no pattern- you start to think he just texts you randomly because he’s curious on how’d you react.

✦ for some reason i headcanon that he likes to say “i love you” in a sing-songy voice (and ofc he means it), but when he’s in a serious mood, he’ll just come out & say it without any sing-song cadence. it just hits different i’d say because his serious expression matches what he’s trying to convey.

✦ oh for dates?? you guys could literally go anywhere, and it would be so much fun! like— amusement parks are a go... aquariums... hikes... petting zoos... internet cafes... you name it! you two can find fun in any sort of date because you both knows it’s always the companion that matters more than the actual activity. tendou definitely holds your hand a lot on a date— squeezing gently now & again because he doesn’t really want to let go (tendou your protective side is showing skdueus).

✦ tendou’s teammates actually like you a lot by the way... you make tendou really happy (which is something semi noticed right away). at first, they were a little surprised someone would genuinely date him, but given your wholesome interactions with him, they give you two thumbs up— even if they’re slightly envious tendou’s got a girl.

#haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #hq hcs #haikyuu headcanon #hq headcanon #hq hc #kageyama tobio #sugawara koushi #akaashi keiji #tendou satori #headcanons #haikyuu #hq #lily writes

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nymphigeon · 4 years

Text

From me, to you || 06

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.9k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, mention of murder, mentions of gambling.

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

05 06 07

The walk back to Taehyung’s cell was uneventful. I was scared Ella would be waiting for me around the corner, ready to scream at me all over again. Luckily though, she was nowhere to be seen.

Taehyung didn’t really say anything anymore about our talk, just silently walking in front of me. Some colleagues passing us gave me weird looks, as if they knew what had happened. Well, seeing your supervisor angrily stomp to her office might be a dead giveaway something went down.

“Taehyung?” Again, when he entered his cell, no words were spoken. He simply went to sit on the bed and stared at the ground, not even acknowledging my presence. Even now as I try to grab his attention, his gaze stays fixed on the grey coloured ground.

“You haven’t eaten a lot since you got here right? Wait, I’ll go get you something.” I turn around in the direction of the small kitchen, not really planning on waiting as I’m not expecting a response. My expectations aren’t met however.

“No need.” Short, but clearly stating his desires. Or rather, lack of desires. “I insist. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out you must be hungry.” I don’t look at him as I speak, still facing the destination only a few steps away.

“I know that talking about it must’ve reminded you of that time, brought up feelings you forgot about for a while. They were the past back when I rescued you of the street, and they’re still the past right now. Nothing changed.”

A memory of Taehyung scarfing down food because of my tears pop up. It causes a tiny smile to appear on my face, even though at the time it wasn’t the happiest moment. “Should I start crying again?”

It’s said as a joke, something to lighten the mood. A light chuckle coming from behind confirms it worked. “I won’t hesitate to call you a baby this time.” I can’t see him, but I can hear the smile in his voice.

We’ll be able to laugh at this in the future. Looks like that’s true.

“Hey, it’s a good thing to let out emotions, bottling them up causes stress and discomfort!” Putting my hands on my hips, I take on a defensive stand. The one where I defend my statement, not to fight, fortunately.

“Sure miss smarty pants. Go get me some of that delicious prison food.” If I wasn’t so relieved that he finally accepted to eat, I would’ve probably defended my cooking skills as well. Contrary to the others working here, I actually can cook without burning everything I touch. Now that is what I call an achievement.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Ella, I need to speak with you.” A familiar voice pushes its way through the door. One that I haven’t exactly missed, but looked forward to hearing from nonetheless.

She’s direct, rough sounding. The normal politeness her words usually contain gone, most likely together with her respect for me. Not that she can show it, as I still hold all the cards, though it sure would be fun to see her try.

Whether her directness was born out of her growing disdain towards me, or out of the confidence she built knowing the answers to my questions is unknown to me. I don’t really care, it doesn’t matter with the position I’m in.

The position I got by being harsh and unforgiving. Throw your sympathy out of the window, just focus on whatever you need to find out. The way you do so is unimportant as long as you succeed. It’s the exact attitude she screamed at me for. The exact attitude she’s giving me right now. Perhaps she is more useful to me than I thought.

“Do come in.”

With no hesitation the door opens and she steps into the room. Her expression is different from the typical kind determined face she wears around the office. The kindness has gone, replaced by something else.

I’m curious as to what she will tell me. Will I be left disappointed? I didn’t count the option that she might just come beg me to keep her. Reckless of me.

“I found the guy.”

Disappointed I am not. Then this is most likely jealousy. Jealousy for the way she found what I failed to acquire myself. Though that’s just half of it. The other part is joy.

“Now this is interesting, tell me about it.”

She nonchalantly throws the device she had been holding at me, the recorder I left in the room with the hybrid the other day. First, my sad attempt, and second her who effortlessly got what I couldn’t. “You can take a listen at that after we’re done, it contains all you need to know.”

That I will do, but I don’t say it out loud. Simply nodding, I motion for her to go on. Just get straight to the point, I’m not satisfied until he is behind bars.

“The guy’s name is Lee Ji-hyun, who, according to Taehyung, is a popular gambler. Presumably that’s the way he got enough money for a tiger hybrid. Found his name on a few gambling websites, completely unlawful if I may add, which confirms that.”

Not only did she find him, she also figured out that wherever he went for his money, the places aren’t supposed to be there. I never asked her for any more than that guy’s name, and instead of one, she brought me two cases to work on, one easier than the other. I’ll worry about the easy one later.

“According to our records he got arrested for drug use a few years back, but got released due to too little evidence.” That makes things easier. At least we already know something about him from the investigation back then, we won’t have to start from square one.

“Great work, I’m impressed.” Praise encourages people to work hard, makes them even more useful to me. Why figure things out myself, when I can boss others around to find it out for me?

“I need access to the World Hybrid Register and a search warrant. I don’t just want to catch him for murder. The signs of hybrid abuse, hybrid dealing, illegal gambling and drug use are also there.”

Again, as direct as she can be. She isn’t asking me, neither is she ordering me. Stating what she needs with the underlying expectation she’ll get it. Normally that would give her a one way ticket out of this place. Normally.

“Sure.” The determined face she was wearing crumbles into a look of shock. The underlying expectation I thought I heard had been completely faked, and I fell for it.

“Wait, really? Just like that?” She seems happy. Everything about her posture exuded confidence when she walked in here. Now I’m beginning to think the entire thing was one big act. One that she played perfectly.

“Yeah. I’ll make sure to get you whatever you need. I trust you know what you’re doing?” It must be apparent how I’m nice when you do as I say, not so nice when you go against me. Apparently a great leader listens to those lower in the ranks, however my superiority complex holds me from doing so.

“Always.” It’s back. The sweet smile playing on her face brings back the kindness she walks around with. The one I thought was her weakness. For once, I was wrong.

“Great. Go send me the details over email, I have stuff to do.” My sentence ends in a sigh, not feeling like going back to the old boring work I was busying myself with before her arrival. Whether I like it or not, I have to. There are still people holding power over me, I can’t decide entirely on my own.

“Of course.” With that she excitedly bounces out my private room. A type of excited I don’t show, but definitely feel.

Let’s see what you’re capable of Y/N.

It wasn’t even 24 hours after the talk with my supervisor that I got an email inviting me to the World Hybrid Registration Centre headquarters. The organization has offices al around the world, keeping tabs on who all own a hybrid, who aren’t allowed to own one, who has had a warning before, etc. They basically just make sure the hybrids are treated well and kept healthy.

I’m not exactly surprised they’re okay with my checking the system, as this is just as much their concern as it is ours, but I am surprised at the speed in which they replied. Known to be extremely busy since the hybrid owning trend blew up, a reply is usually days to weeks after the first email has been sent. Even for the police it can take a couple of days for them to come back to you.

Immediately after I’ve completely read the email I shut down my computer and pack my bag with whatever I may need. I don’t tell any of my colleagues that I’m going, as I know at least one of them will offer to come with me. There is no need for anyone else though, I prefer to go on my own.

The address is way out in another town, causing a two hour drive I’m not looking forward to. Reminding myself of the poor hybrid back at our office and the extra money I’m getting paid, I gain the necessary encouragement for the long trip. At least I’m doing this for someone.

The parking lot is completely full when I arrive. Expensive Tesla’s and huge Mercedes’ litter the place as if the pay is ten times higher than mine. If I would take a second to think it would seem logical, since even the cheapest of hybrids are still mad expensive, and part of that money goes to the people registering everything. Besides that there’s also the hybrid tax, of which, again, a part goes to these workers.

Stepping out of my extremely out of place looking car, I make sure I properly lock the door before walking inside the building. It’s not hard to find the front desk, with it being the first thing you come across after having been blown in the face by the warm air coming from inside.

“Ah, Y/F/N Y/L/N, thank you for coming on such a short notice. I’m sorry it had to be on the same day, we didn’t have any more room for appointments until next month.” The rather old looking lady behind the desk smiles my way with an apologetic look on her face.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m actually glad I was able to visit this fast.” The lady nods and takes off her glasses after typing something into her computer. “It’s our pleasure. We too got really concerned after we heard about the multiple offences.”

There is a hint of sadness to be heard in her voice. Coming across hybrid owners is quite rare where I live, as nobody has the funds to do so. Most people will just curse at the rich and despise anything that has to do with them, including hybrids. Seeing someone who truly cares about them is a nice change.

“You personally wanted to check the information we had on this hybrid mentioned in the email, correct?” The lady, who stood up from her chair a few seconds ago, rounds the desk to stand in front of me. In her hand she holds a card attached to a string that goes round in a loop.

“Yeah that’s right. It’s suspected the hybrid has been neglected, so we just want to know the origin of the hybrid, when it has last had a check-up, things like that. I just need a copy after that and then I’ll be on my way.”

Not knowing whether I could fully trust all the workers here on giving me the right information, I decided to come check everything out myself. It’s said that even here not everyone fully supports hybrids, with the worst stories claiming some are even trying to bring the organization down from inside.

The registration centre has tried to calm the accusations down by stating they check all the workers regularly on their hybrid views in extensive programs, but this was never verified by any other source other than themselves.

“Great! This pass will give you authorization to any room you may wish to enter and on the back is a code to access any systems. One of my colleagues will be with you at all times, but in case you wish to enter places yourself you can use this.”

With one of her hands she beckons me to crouch down to her level. When I do, she carefully places the string around my neck and makes sure it isn’t cutting into my skin, before pushing me to stand back up again.

“Eun-ji! Can you escort this lovely lady around please?” The newfound nickname startles me, not having expected something like that. She clearly doesn’t seem to notice though, keeping herself busy with making sure Eun-ji knows all the details of her upcoming job.

The place is a lot more confusing inside than it looks from the outside. Long hallways with doors to rooms everywhere, stairs in spots you wouldn’t expect them to be and dead-ends in places I was sure looped around in circles. If it wasn’t for my nervous guide, I would’ve definitely already been lost.

“And here we have one of the registration rooms. We fill in all our paper work into the system and make sure everything is updated, although most information just comes in digital nowadays, so all the binders placed in the corner don’t really have a function anymore.”

The room just consists of a bunch of computers with huge monitors screwed to the walls. Right now there is absolutely no one here except for the two of us, but a few of the monitors are still turned on. What a waste of electricity.

“Would you mind if I search the system now?” I already have permission to do so, though my kind nature refuses to just start typing without a heads up. “Of course, that’s what you’re here for after all.” Eun-ji lets out an awkward giggle while fiddling with her fingers. She’s clearly uncomfortable, even though she does her best to hide it.

I don’t waste a second, immediately sitting down behind one of the computers. The system isn’t too hard to navigate, the simple search bar being the only tool I need.

Name owner: Jihyun Lee

Name hybrid: Taehyung…

“Is it needed to fill in everything? I don’t know the hybrid’s last name…” I mentally slap myself in the face for never having asked his full name. Even his file back at the office just has his first name, and nobody ever questioned it. Perhaps we all just assumed he didn’t have one.

“Just fill in whatever you do know. Most hybrids take on the last name of the owner though so you could try that.” In the little time I’ve been staring at a screen, Eun-ji has made it her mission to put as much space between me and her as possible, pretending to be busy doing something at the other side of the room.

Name owner(s): Jihyun Lee

Gender owner(s): Male

Name hybrid: Taehyung Lee

Gender hybrid: Male

Hybrid animal: Tiger

That’s how far I can fill it in. The following bars needing a hybrid type, hybrid identification code, adoption centre, all clog my brain with question marks. The little information I can fill in reminds me of how there is not much I actually know about Taehyung.

Realizing there is nothing else that I can do, I click the search button and wait for the results to come up.

Nothing.

Huge letters on the screen apologize to me, suggesting that I may have made a mistake in whatever information I gave. A breath of air escapes my lips as I sigh and delete Taehyung’s last name.

Still nothing.

“Could it be that I’m doing something wrong? No results are showing up.” Going back to the main screen I try to figure out if perhaps I used the wrong tool, but nothing suggests that I have.

“Okay wait, let me see.” Eun-ji hesitantly comes closer when I stand up from the chair, only sitting down when I’ve moved back a few steps. “What’s the name of the guy?”

“Lee Ji-hyun, or well it’s first name, last name right? Then Ji-hyun Lee. Wait, should I have used a hyphen?” While I’m still trying to come up with what I may have done wrong, Eun-ji quickly brings up a list of people.

“There are a few males with that name owning a hybrid around the world, though since we know he lives here we can narrow it down to one country. What type of hybrid is it?” She doesn’t look at me as she asks, though as soon as I answer her head slowly turns my way.

“You’re sure it’s not just a striped house cat? Or, I don’t know, another predator hybrid instead?” Disbelief is written all across her face. The nervous look she has been wearing got replaced by furrowed brows, obviously going down a list of animals that may look similar.

“Yeah I’m sure. They’re not forbidden right? I would’ve known.” I can’t understand the confusion written across her face. Sure wild animal hybrids are expensive, but that doesn’t mean nobody owns them.

“No not forbidden, I mean they’re hard to come across sure, but…” Eun-ji’s hesitance is making me nervous, something is off. Something that I’m definitely not going to like.

“Miss, this hybrid doesn’t exist.”

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