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ponds-of-ink · 2 years ago

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Shattered Dreams but Intact Teacups (Followup/Part 2)

It’s finally here! Took longer than I thought, but I finally got it done! :D

In case you are new/need a refresher, here’s Part 1. In case you’re busy, though, the TL;DR is basically: Scraptrap tries to look good for Scrap Baby’s tea party through illusion disks and the plan backfires miserably. Now Scrap Baby/Elizabeth, while playing her tea party character, has to show him that she’s absolutely okay with him showing up sans-disks.

(@uwu-scraptrappy, get ready. I dunno what feels this part’ll give you, but I have a feeling it’ll give you some.)

Scrap Baby looked back at Lefty. Her mind flipped through the pages of her childhood memories (or, well, what was left of them). What fairy tale logic could she use here could she used to “cure” Princess Trapeze [and make Daddy feel better, of course]? What kind of ‘curse’ were they supposed to lift, anyway? A Beauty and The Beastie kind? A Cinderella-But-The-Fairy’s-Really-Mean type? Frog Prince? Little Mermaid…?

…Baby’s eyelids widened. “Blackbear, can we talk in private?” she asked softly, tilting her head towards a corner of the room.

“Sure thing, M’Lady,” Lefty replied in-character, already making her way to their intended spot. She waited for Baby to arrive, then asked the inevitable question: “Do you have a plan to cure her?”

“I do,” Scrap Baby answered, her tone fluctuating between pride and uncertainty. “But there’s one thing I need advice on. Advice that I think you can give.”

Lefty’s eyebrows raised. “All right, what is it?” she asked in turn.

“Do you think we can get a prince to give her a true love’s kiss?”

“Not really,” Lefty responded solemnly, shaking her head. “If Trapeze’s story is as sad as she makes it to be, I don’t think anyone’s even given her a hug— Let alone a kiss on the lips… Or the cheek, if that’s more reasonable for her.”

Scrap Baby’s eyelids lowered. Her shoulders slumped. “Well, I don’t think you’d count for a prince, Sir Black-Bear,” she muttered. “You’re just a knight.”

Lefty nodded. “And kinda glad about it, actually,” she admitted weakly. “I really don’t want to waste a true love’s kiss on someone I’ve only known for a few minutes. What if I find someone I actually love and I need to break them from a sleeping spell?”

“That’s fair,” Scrap Baby agreed morosely. Her pupils slowly drifted to and fro, as if skimming through the memory that brought her to this train of thought. Her furrowed “brows” relaxed as something eased her. “But I’M still an option,” she resumed, her voice regaining its typical confidence. “Of course I count, I’m a princess! If ‘true love’ can count for us, then maybe I can break it myself!”

If Lefty were a human, one would have definitely been able to see a cold sweat forming on her forehead. “That depends on how the spell-caster defined ‘true love’ when giving the curse,” she sputtered out uneasily. “If he meant romance, then PLEASE don’t even think about trying. It just won’t work with anyone other than who she’s supposed to marry to later. If he meant the kind of love that families or friends have, then sure I guess. Even the love you show when helping out a stranger in a rough time might work, if the wizard was that merciful.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Lefty sighed. “You can try, but I dunno the specifics of this ‘true love’ thing,” she summed up gently. “Just smooch her on the cheek or something, just to be safe.”

“I already had something in mind,” Scrap Baby assured warmly, turning her head towards Scraptrap’s face and arms lying on the table. “I saw Cinderella’s Prince do it once.”

Confident in her plan, Baby quietly glided back to the table. She stopped besides Scraptrap, towering over him even as she tried to look more sympathetic and gentle with her posture. She stood there for a few seconds, analyzing the poor wretch before her. Then, as carefully as she could, she pulled out his good arm and slipped the ring back on. This was the only “warning” she gave before planting her best prince-like ‘kiss’ on his hand.

To her surprise, Scraptrap was quick to respond. “What was that for?” he asked, quite frankly more shocked about the ring being back on his finger than the ‘smooch’ itself (though, not knowing the exact context, that did come out of nowhere).

Scrap Baby smiled sheepishly. “I… thought this would count as a ‘true love’s kiss’,” she explained as she lowered his hand back down. “You know, the usual way a curse like yours is broken.”

Scraptrap’s puzzlement melted away. He rolled his (would’ve been reddened) eyes and sniggered to himself. “I’m sorry, Princess Melodica, but I’m afraid mine doesn’t work like that,” he said, returning to being properly in-character. “In fact, I’m not quite sure if there is a cure other than these two trinkets.”

“Oh,” Scrap Baby answered, mild disappointment seeping in.

“But at least you made her stop crying, Your Highness,” Lefty chimed in, moving to Scrap Baby’s side. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve probably broken her real curse just by being this caring. Loneliness like hers must be considered a curse too, if you think about it long enough.”

Scrap Baby tilted her head at Lefty. “Really?” she asked the bear, clasping one of those black plastic paws in her mismatched hands. “But what about her—?”

Lefty cut in with a gentle shush. “That’s a spell to break another day,” she answered warmly. Then, she looked over at Scraptrap. “Besides, Princess Trapeze,” she continued in that same tone, “there’s an expression in my family’s kingdom that should do you well: ‘Fairer be the heart of gold and pearls than the fairest with dainty curls’… Or something like that.”

Scraptrap turned his face away as if flattered, but his expression showed otherwise. “B-But I don’t think either of those things apply to me,” he stammered, unsure if that was in-character or an unintentional expression of… potential guilt.

“I’m not talking total perfect—“ Lefty started, but stopped herself with a frustrated grimace. “Oh, never mind this whole part! I’m not good with summing up stuff like this. That was my dad’s job. I’ll just say that you’ll get better in due time if you’re not being extremely dumb, okay? Like, evil wizard-type of dumb.”

Scraptrap snickered at his companion’s outburst. “Okay,” he grinned as Lefty stomped back to her seat. “I think I understand. Thank you very much, Sir Black-Bear.”

“You’re welcome, but whatever,” Lefty grumpily murmured, crossing her arms and lowering the metal bowl over her head like a cowboy ready to sleep in his favorite rocking chair.

“As for you, Your Majesty,” Scraptrap resumed, turning his attention back to his glowing-eyed hostess, “I would like to thank you for your attempt. I don’t think anyone has actually tried to figure out an antidote before. Well, anyone besides me, I suppose.”

“You’re welcome,” Baby replied proudly, giving her guest her best curtsy. “I just thought I should try to help.”

Scraptrap removed the ring from his finger. “Speaking out of character for moment,” he spoke up, trying not to cringe at his own natural hoarseness, “I have to ask: Why did you do it, really? You could have easily made Princess Melodica politely excuse Trapeze from the party and carry on with her knight friend as if nothing happened. Why did you choose such a… considerate option?”

Baby’s faceplates twitched. Her roller skates shifted aimlessly in place. “Well, I didn’t want to make Melodica mean,” she explained, giving him her best ‘pout’. “It just didn’t feel right after what y— Trapeze said about being lonely.”

Trap nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds reasonable,” he muttered, picking up the ring and holding it in his hand. Then, as he started to slip it back on, something stopped him. He set the trinket back down with an uneasy expression. “I suppose now my only concern is…” his voice trailed as his eyes caught his murky reflection in that magenta crown. “Do you think…?”

His voice trailed again. His pupils remained fixed on that tinted ‘mirror’. Echoes of unseen, taunting voices rung in his mind, causing him to wince even more than usual. With each insult faintly recalled, he inspected his more ghastly features. The gash on his forehead (which itself was a source of ridicule enough already). The uneven eyelids that made him look dazed if he wasn’t paying attention to his emoting. The ghostly pin-prick irises that made his sockets look like metallic eyes. And this was only covering the parts one would notice if that disproportionate head didn’t—

A clawed arm gently shoved the crown away from the rabbit’s view. “Do I think what?” Baby asked softly, almost managing to lean down to his eye level.

“D-Do you think the same applies to me?” Scraptrap sputtered out, the cooling fan in his robotic suit spinning at top speed. “Do you think I look… passable? Or at the very least not nauseatingly vile?”

Baby blinked. “I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?” she asked in return, tilting her head to one side.

Scraptrap nodded slowly.

“And you know how I get when I see something I really don’t like.”

That got a chuckle out of the old rabbit. Oh, how could he forget? A moody little arm cross here, a sulky turning her back away from the hated object there, or even just an outright cry of disgust and a pinching of her nose— Well, if she was still the little girl he raised and not an almost eight-foot animatronic.

“So it has to mean something when I look at you and don’t do that,” Baby insisted, holding her dad’s good hand in her own. “Yes, you aren’t pretty and shiny as Circus Baby used to be, but neither was Patchwork Patricia! Or Mr. Frankenstein when I invited him for tea! Or—“

“I think he gets the point, Baby,” Lefty cut in, her tone wavering between annoyance and enjoyment.

Scraptrap acknowledged Lefty’s interruption, then returned to the matter at hand. “And I think that point is…” his voice trailed for a moment as he processed his conclusion, “…you do not think that I’m absolutely repugnant.”

Scrap Baby nodded firmly. “You are not a pug or an ant or a peanut,” she said with (over-confident) authority. “You are my daddy and I’m not going to kick you out for being a Franken-bunny. I don’t care what anybody else says to me later about letting you stay at my tea party without that fancy watch on— It’s my tea party, and you’ll be staying right here… if you want to.”

Minor skewing of the word ‘repugnant’ aside, the sentiment itself made Scraptrap beam in spite of the suit’s lowered rabbit ear. “I think I will stay,” he said as he slipped the ring back onto his finger. “Thank you so much, ‘Your Highness’.”

Scrap Baby giggled. “You’re very welcome, Princess Trapeze,” she responded, straightening her posture. “Now, let’s see if we can get this tea party back on track.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lefty remarked, lifting her second hat above her eyes. “All this reassuring was great, but I was honestly starting to fall asleep.”

The same couldn’t be said for Michael and the technician in the security office. The technician looked away from his static-ridden “TV” to see Michael pacing in one part of the room. “Guess this is a ‘like if you cry every time moment for you, huh?” the technician grinned sheepishly. “You look like you’ve just finished the latest season finale for The Immortal and the Restless.”

Michael stopped pacing. “Just change to a different camera, would you?” he asked quietly. “I need to know how the rest of the building is doing.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Afton,” the technician answered, switching from one camera feed to the other.

#scrap baby #scraptrap #lefty the bear #michael afton #fnaf fanfic #fnaf 6 #part 2 #tea party #more fluffy than last time #i sure hope so #otherwise i’m gonna flip a table metaphorically #also #elizabeth #sweetie #I know you’re trying but like #think it’s gonna take more than a fairytale kiss on the hand to fix your dad’s suit lol

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lilietsblog · 11 months ago

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Do you think current LLMs are unable to match the intelligence of a bird?

Yes.

If you would define "thinking" another way, what definition would you use?

I'm not really invested in this question, because it's true that dependent on how you define "thinking", if you say that anything that does "thinking" qualifies as an AI, a calculator is an AI.

If we're defining AI that way, sure, the current machine generators qualify too, but that's generally not the way the word is used, no.

What do you mean by "what a real AI would do"?

Let's say that by "real AI" I mean "person" AI. Human level intelligence.

As for an internal model of the world, current LLMs do have those. They can, for example, form records identifying the United States as a country bordered by Canada to the north, Mexico to the south, the Atlantic Ocean to the east, and the Pacific Ocean to the west, consisting of 50 states, 3.8 million square miles of land area, and a population of 333 million. They can form these records about anything, and draw conclusions about actions to take based on those records - and some of those records are wrong, but that's no different from humans.

"Forming records" is not the same as "internal model of the world". I know I'm moving the goalposts here verbally, but it's really hard to explain what exactly I mean.

I think this is mostly a philosophical question. Suppose I type out a paragraph outlining an image I want and put that paragraph into an AI art generator, and I also send that exact same paragraph to a human artist as a commission. Am I more or less of an artist of one of the resulting pieces than the other? Does it matter?

Well, you're - a contributing author of the image either way.

With the AI art generator, you're picking which generator you want, likely refining the prompt further after the first try doesn't give you what you want, etc.

With the artist, the artist is doing a lot more of the work - and if you work on the image closely with them, picking ideas etc, then yeah, you have some measure of co-authorship (greater than just commissioning it).

Multiple people can be equally responsible for the same thing. That you can invite another human to help you do the thing (create an image) or you can use a tool, doesn't mean the tool is also an artist.

No, medium is the material an art piece is made of. Painting, photography, and digital art are distinct mediums. Human-drawn digital art and machine-generated digital art are two techniques within the medium of digital art.

How is digital photography a different medium than digital art then? It's made of pixels just the same. Either digital photography is also a different technique, or machine generated art is alo a different medium. It's the same distinction.

If a human uses an AI to generate an image, then draws their own digital image using the AI-generated image as a reference, should they have to describe their drawing as machine-generated? Does this change if tracing is involved?

I would say this is a change of medium same as redrawing a photo, or illustrating a piece of writing.

What means do you take issue with, and what laws do you propose? I most often see people making these arguments in the context of advocating for using copyright laws against AI, but I was under the impression that was not your position. Has that changed?

And I'm not talking about waiting and hoping. I'm talking about taking existing frustrations around the job market and putting that energy towards UBI advocacy now, rather than wasting it on seeking laws that will cause more harm than good.

Union regulations from this summer about not being able to use AI-generated images of actors in perpetuity are a good example.

UBI advocacy is a good thing, but is it going to be achieved - in this election cycle? The union regulations were.

Also, there should be an overhaul of the concept of "Terms and Conditions", I have a global opinion on that. It should not be legal to bury a clause of "oh and if you use our platform you give us permission to use your images to train an AI and also to use them as promotional materials in perpetuity" in there. Or the "terms and conditions are subject to change whenever we want". That's one thing I was thinking about.

It does touch on the concept of copyright, and - well, let's say I don't have a constant, well-defined opinion on that.

Sure it is. It's communicating its understanding of the subject matter, in terms of the parts of the world it has studied and the resulting thought-code it has written into itself. Which is also a thing a human might do, through the exact same process.

So I'm going to step back from arguing here and in the spirit of learning more on the topic, ask for sources. Lots of sources. All the sources you have. Please? :3

@lilietsblog continuing from here:

"the ability to formulate open-ended instructions to itself" does not strike me as proof of intelligence, no, when those instructions result in the "how do you know where the nearest mcdonalds is" kind of interaction. its just another layer in the cake of stupid

I didn't say "proof" of intelligence. I'm saying it is literally what thinking is. If you would define "thinking" another way, what definition would you use?

LLMs reason in different ways than humans do, and that reasoning can lead to odd conclusions. But reaching odd and potentially stupid conclusions is, as we both know well, not proof of an absence of intelligence, just of a different perspective. Those are issues to work on, but they're issues of implementation, not indications of a fundamental lacking.

Even if current LLMs might not yet fully meet the expectations for "human-like" intelligence, I think we can pretty definitively say that they can match or surpass the intelligence of some animals, which is still plenty of reason to describe them as AI. Perhaps the best comparison is birds, which can be plenty smart as animals go. Do you think current LLMs are unable to match the intelligence of a bird?

#reblog #the ai discourse

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navnae · 2 years ago

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No because let’s figure this out, I just saw a tiktok about how Steve threw his shirt at Eddie when he clearly could’ve thrown it on floor of the boat, or give it to Robin or Nancy but decided to give it to Eddie instead.

This is what makes Steve and Eddie’s relationship so complex because on the outside we’re supposed to get the vibe of them not liking each other but then they turn around and do shit like this.

Steve reaching for the walkie talkie when he hears Eddie’s voice then immediately taking charge to find him, Eddie invading Steve’s personal space whenever he got the chance, genuine happiness and softness around each other, Steve telling Eddie not to be so hard on himself, the stolen glances done when nobody else is looking, both of them having rough experiences with family but making sure that their the best role models for Dustin, when Steve asked about what car Eddie didn’t shut him down with a slick remark when he easily could’ve because that’s what everyone does to Steve but shockingly his “rival” didn’t, the flirty gestures towards each other, then with their final moments Eddie made it his MISSION to call out only to Steve once he realized that they were separating and this was probably going to be the last time he’s ever going to say anything to Steve again.

Lastly Steve being hesitant to look at the board that had Eddie’s photo on it after everything that happened. It was obvious he wanted to look but kept his head at this angle instead of just looking. We never got to see what Steve’s initial reaction was when Eddie died but I like to think that it was a heavy feeling in his chest knowing that he was gone. Part of it was feeling bad for Dustin knowing how important Eddie was to him but he started to realize he developed these feelings for him that Steve thought were for Nancy because that’s what felt right at the time. Steve got it wrong and he hates that he didn’t get to tell Eddie how he really felt about him when he had the chance.

Their story could’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened in season for if it was written better and more risks were taken. Steve deserved his self discovery storyline when he started having trouble with women and later on he could’ve realized maybe it because he’s tire of the same thing, that’s when Eddie comes in. Eddie is different from anything Steve is used to in many different ways which is why they would’ve been perfect (opposites attract). Then Eddie’s story could’ve been taking Steve’s advice and giving himself some slack but still feeling like he didn’t need to run, Steve would be the one to tell him that running away doesn’t define him in the slightest. Eddie never thought he would take anything that Steve Harrington says but here he was listening to him like his life depended on it.

In the end they were perfect for each other, going from “hanging out with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, yeah I’ll pass.” “I wouldn’t save your ass under different circumstances.” (I can’t remember how he said it but you get the point) then going to “Eddie’s a wanted man we can’t just go for a hike in the woods.” “I couldn’t grasp the fact that Steve Harrington, is actually a good dude.”

I don’t understand how people think that they couldn’t work when they were written this way with so many moments between them even small ones that are too quick if you blink you’ll miss it. Steve and Eddie deserved better and they deserved each other.

(Sorry for the rant but I hate wasted potential)

Also Eddie giving Steve his vest??? LIKE COME ON HE WAS INTO THAT MAN!

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

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Spilled Pearls Extra 1

- ao3 -

Lan Xichen spent a lot of time learning his family’s rules.

They were important to his uncle, who raised him, and that meant that they were important to him. They were his heritage and his birthright, and anyway he loved his uncle and it made him happy which was good enough for Lan Xichen, but that didn’t make learning them easy or anything. Each rule had to be learned both by itself and in context with others; it wasn’t as simple as memorizing a list and calling it done. You had to learn them and know them and then live up to them to the best of your ability, and that was the work of a lifetime – which Lan Xichen, now six years old, had been informed was an awful long time.

Moreover, though his uncle had never said so, Lan Xichen had heard from the other people in the sect that learning the rules was important because following the rules would make sure he didn’t turn out like his father, who had let down so many people in their sect. Many of the elders said things like that when his uncle wasn’t around, though his uncle never did – his uncle spoke well of their father, although in abstract tones, but sometimes he looked sad about it, too, and therefore Lan Xichen was determined to listen and learn the rules well so that he would never disappoint his uncle the way his father had.

Of course, there were other advantages to learning the rules.

The commentary, for instance.

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Talking behind other people's backs is prohibited.

“Unless it’s really funny,” Lan Yueheng said, and – as always – seemed not to notice the way Lan Xichen’s uncle glared at him. “Oooh, actually, let me give you an example, I just heard the best story –”

“If you don’t understand those around you, you will be at their mercy, rather than they at yours,” Wen Ruohan said, perfectly poised and with a sharp smirk, just the way he always was unless he happened to be talking to Lan Xichen’s uncle. “How better to learn to understand people than to know what others say about them when they are not around?” His smirk widened. “Look at what people say about me.”

“What are you supposed to do if you don’t?” Lao Nie asked, grinning wickedly. “Say mean things about them in front of their faces instead? I can do that!”

“I mean, if it’s news, it’s not gossip, right?” Cangse Sanren said, tapping her cheek while pretending to be thoughtful as if it would hide her great big smile. “I’m sure that’s how I learned it, and I was a very good student – no, no, don’t listen to what your uncle says!”

“Well, I wish my mother would do less of it,” Wen Xu said, rolling his eyes. He’d come along to visit with his father again the way he always did – he was always tagging along with his father, really, and his father indulged him more often than he probably should, according to both sects’ elders. Not that Wen Ruohan listened to anyone but Lan Xichen’s uncle. “Sometimes I think that’s all she does! It’s boring!”

“If you mean what you say and say what you mean, then your friends will never doubt you whether you are in front of them or not,” Nie Mingjue said, then frowned. “I mean, I think?”

“Listen to A-Jue,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said when Lan Xichen reported on the discussions, throwing up his hands in disgust. “He’s the only one of the lot of them worth anything.”

“It’s his mother’s contribution,” Lao Nie opined.

“It’s certainly not yours,” Wen Ruohan said. “Anyway, what was wrong with A-Xu’s answer? It was accurate.”

“It has nothing to do with the rule!”

“That’s because I’ve already mastered it years ago,” Wen Xu said cheerfully. Surprisingly cheerfully, given that Nie Mingjue was sitting on him again; maybe he’d gotten used to Nie Mingjue always winning.

Lan Xichen’s uncle rubbed his forehead. “A-Xu, if you really want to go copy the rules on humility a few more times, you don’t have to wait for me to instruct you to do so –”

“He’s right, though,” Cangse Sanren cackled from her husband’s lap. “Madame Wen is an amazing source of gossip, but it does get a bit boring sometimes. You can’t punish him for being right!”

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Do not succumb to rage.

“Unless there’s a very good reason,” Lao Nie said, picking Lan Xichen up in one arm as if he weighed as little as a feather, and Nie Mingjue in the other just as easily, even though he was much bigger. “In the world there are many injustices, and it is your duty to fight against them with everything that you have – if you are wholly above the feeling of rage, then you have forgotten your empathy, and soon will follow the crooked path into indifference.”

“The issue is succumbing to rage,” Wen Ruohan said. “You can be angry, or even furious, but you should always maintain your self-control. Once you’ve mastered yourself, you can master others.”

“He means get revenge,” Wen Xu said knowledgably. “You get angry, then you get even.”

“Oh, rage?” Cangse Sanren asked, rolling up her sleeves. “Well, as it happens, I’m going to go have a chat with your mother, I’ll give you a good demonstration of –”

“You are doing no such thing,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said, exasperated. “Get back here.”

“It’s a waste of time,” Lan Yueheng said. “Getting angry takes time and energy. Why not be happy instead?” He thought about it. “Well, I mean, sometimes cursing a little bit when something goes wrong is nice. Even the calmest concoction needs to blow off steam sometimes to retain its equilibrium!”

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Do not disrespect your elders.

“And I,” Wen Ruohan said, looking positively gleeful, “am the eldest.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said at once. “Xichen, you hear me? Don’t listen to him.”

“There’s a difference between disrespect and disobedience,” Cangse Sanren said. “Being old doesn’t mean being right, it means that there’s a greater probability that they’ve encountered something in their lifetime that will give them an insight you lack. You should honor and respect their insight, but always make your own decisions in the end.”

“I mean, you could always listen to me, instead,” Lao Nie said. “I’m your elder too, aren’t I?”

“Don’t listen to either Uncle Wen or my father,” Nie Mingjue said, looking long-suffering. “They both like to play tricks.”

“Wait,” Lan Yueheng said. “I’m an elder? Since when? That’s a terrible idea!”

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Do not take advantage of your position to oppress others.

“Don’t listen to Wen Ruohan,” Cangse Sanren said.

“Don’t listen to Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Yueheng said.

“Definitely do not listen to Hanhan,” Lao Nie said. “At all. In any way.”

“Probably best not to listen to A-Xu’s dad,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced over apologetically.

“No, no, you’re right,” Wen Xu said, nodding furiously. “He’s kind of awful about these sorts of things.”

“They’re all being absolutely ridiculous,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’m perfectly reliable on such matters. After all, what’s the point of working so hard to obtain and maintain power if you don’t oppress those that deserve it? If you don’t take advantage, who will?”

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Do not make assumptions about others.

“I used to assume that Cangse Sanren was a normal human being,” Lan Yueheng said. “Goes to show what I know, right?”

“I used to assume that Wen Ruohan was a perfectly normal self-absorbed murderer that would keep his greedy hands to his own people,” Cangse Sanren said, sounding irritable. “And not have perfectly ordinary rogue cultivators followed around by complete weirdos because he’s secretly worried about them like a mother hen!”

“I used to assume that people would be grateful when someone rescued them and their husband from near certain death,” Wen Ruohan said.

“I used to assume that the funniest thing in the world was watching Hanhan argue with your uncle,” Lao Nie said, chin on his hands. “Little did I know that adding Cangse Sanren to the mix made it even funnier.”

“Grown-ups are stupid sometimes,” Wen Xu said. “That’s why you have to verify everything they say for yourself.”

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Embrace the entirety of the world.

“By being righteous,” Nie Mingjue said.

“By taking it all over, as far as I can tell from my father,” Wen Xu said.

“Depends on what you define as the world, doesn’t it?” Lao Nie said.

“Be ambitious,” Wen Ruohan said. “Define it broadly.”

“I mean, I don’t think your arms are quite long enough yet, the world’s pretty big,” Lan Yueheng said. “But I pick you up and swing you around, maybe they’ll stretch a little. Want to try?”

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Do not associate with evil.

“I mean, it’s true, but you have to think carefully about what you categorize as evil,” Lao Nie said. “Just being a man-eating nation-destroying inhuman amoral nine-tailed fox isn’t automatically enough to qualify, right?”

“That’s, uh, a really weirdly specific example,” Lan Yueheng said. “I feel like at least three of the things on that list probably rise to the level of evil? Or have I missed something?”

“Lao Nie said – oh no, not again,” Wen Ruohan said, and patted Lan Xichen on the head before he stalked out the door. “I’m the only evil you should associate with, you hear me?”

“I bet she’s got teeth in interesting places,” Cangse Sanren said. “I’ve got to meet her…hmm? Evil? Does that really matter? It’s going to be funny.”

“She’s not evil,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s pretty nice, actually. She calls me ‘meatball’ and ‘pork bun’ and says I’m so cute that she wants to eat me right up.”

“I’m pretty sure she means it literally,” Wen Xu said. “Gear up, Xichen! We’ve got to go save Mingjue!”

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Do not tell lies.

“People don’t believe the truth, so why not tell it?” Cangse Sanren said.

“Using the truth makes your misdirections more believable and your critiques more devastating,” Wen Ruohan said.

“Why would you even want to lie?” Nie Mingjue asked, puzzled.

“There’s a difference between not telling lies and not having the slightest bit of tact,” Lao Nie said, rubbing his face. “Maybe you can help A-Jue figure that out.”

“Silence is always a good alternative when you don’t want to admit to stuff you’ve done that maybe, just maybe, might annoy some people,” Lan Yueheng said, looking over his collapsed laboratory with a wince. “Not that I’d know anything about that, of course.”

“Telling a lie will only get you into more trouble later when they figure it out,” Wen Xu said. “Because then they’re angry at you for what you did and for lying about it. It’s just not worth it!”

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Do not disregard the rules.

“Unless they’re really stupid,” Lao Nie said.

“I mean,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose. “As a general rule, yes. But it’s different if following the rules would permit injustice to happen, that’s for sure.”

“It’s a matter of picking what rule is the relevant one,” Wen Ruohan said. “Be thoughtful, and you can have the moral high ground in any situation…your uncle is irritatingly good at that.”

“You’ve got to know what the rule is before you break it,” Wen Xu said. “That way you can decide if it’s worth the cost of breaking it or not.”

“If there’s any you think are wrong, you should say something,” Lan Yueheng said. “The rules are a gift handed down from our ancestors and ought to be respected, but each of us has a duty to put in our own thoughts as well – our contribution to the next generation down. Anyway, your uncle will probably be able to put together a reasonable argument as to why changing the rule is appropriate and truer to our sect’s principles than the version carved on the wall. He’s good at that!”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I want the rules to be a foundation under your feet,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said. “They should give you confidence in your actions and pride in your family and sect; they should not feel like they are binding you. If they are, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Maybe if it was just Lan Xichen and his uncle, the two of them and maybe also little baby Lan Wangji and the rather unreliable Lan Yueheng and the even more unreliable Lao Nie, Lan Xichen would immediately and unhesitatingly agree, and then never say anything anyway no matter what he felt. He loved his uncle so much, and every one in a while his uncle seemed so sad; he couldn’t bear to be the one to add more pain and burden to his uncle’s shoulders, already weighed down with the expectations of the sect that should have been his father’s responsibility and would one day be Lan Xichen’s.

But it wasn’t just them, and Lan Xichen frowned a little, really thinking about it. “Maybe,” he said after a while. “Or maybe I’d tell Uncle Wen about it, and then he’d find a way to fix it, or to tell you about it in a way that didn’t make you sad. Does that work, too?”

His uncle looked amused.

“Yes,” he said. “That works. Just remember –”

“Don’t listen to him about ‘oppressing others’?”

“Exactly.”

#mdzs #lan xichen #lan quiren #wen ruohan #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #wen xu #cangse sanren #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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emeraldsandamethyst · 3 years ago

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lair & haunt lore (danny phantom)

so i am enjoying myself writing a midwest gothic thing about amity park (on AO3 here) and thought i might sort of share my ideas i'm rollin with re: haunts (and lairs i guess) i really don't know much fanon lore so apologies in advance, i do know haunts and lairs are generally considered separate things

lairs:

created by the ghost consciously establishing a place to exist in the Ghost Zone; usually done with the help of ghostly parents, results may vary drastically but all have at least one door;

doors are not locked some doors can't lock some doors can it's like, lairs are supposed to be safe places for everyone even if they aren't yours there's a culture of hospitality where as long as you follow the rules you're welcomed, to varying degrees depending, but the most base form of this ghost hospitality is providing a temporary haven from whatever the other ghost is fleeing from, waiting outside lair doors is not just in poor taste in some realms it is grounds for being imprisoned or even ended

lair doors are purple, other doors in the ghost zone can exist that are not lairs, the cultural rules on waiting outside these doors are much less sharply defined, some ghosts wouldn't think anything of it, others would think it's in poor taste but allowable, and all such differences between 'its cool' and 'do it and be unmade'

haunts:

haunts form instinctively and subconsciously to places the Dead died at and places any ghosts frequent enough to imprint the ambient ectoplasm with their ecto-energy; its like a function of time and power, a powerful ghost can form connections to places/people/things more easily than a weak ghost, and all of that is supposing that there is enough ambient ectoenergy for them to affect

i'm using something like the idea in @five-rivers Mortified of there being 3 kinds of Ghosts, the Dead, the Deathless and the Unborn

with this, haunts are a literal ecto-connection to a ghost, the Dead spreads their ectoplasm out through their haunt and depending on the strength of the ghost they either become the haunt literally until enough ambient ectoplasm builds up for them to develop some separate form, or they are strong enough to have both a separate form and a haunt right away; the Deathless (the ancients, the personifcations of concepts like Clockwork) their haunts are the concept they embody, so all of time is Clockwork's haunt with this idea; the Unborn can form haunts like the Dead, or they can form a haunt around a tiny bit of atmosphere/air/a seed, and collect more energy and more energy, will-o-wisps are like this with this idea; some blobs are Dead and some are Unborn, blobs are like crabs, everything be converging on that efficient body plan

ghosts control haunts mostly by their subconscious needs and desires, strong ghosts can consciously control their haunts but they must first be aware of the connection and what it is, the basics are taught by parents. basics are like, 'this is what it feels like when your haunt wants your attention, this is what it feels like when someone enters your haunt, this is how to take care of your haunt so you don't waste energy working against yourself' that kind of stuff

#emeraldsandamethyst #dp au #ghost pregnant au #ghost biology is weird au #danny phandom

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your-nanas-house · 3 years ago

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December 3 (Santa Claus)

★Jerome Valeska

Pairing: Jerome Valeska X Reader

Warnings: Jerome in a Santa Claus costume 🤭, horny Jerome?

Words:

Summary: Jerome is found by Y/n in costume

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

.........................................................

He was just waiting for the moment when she would return from the mission Theo had assigned to her. She had left a week before and the last time they had seen each other things had become more heated giving a twist to their relationship and making Jerome fixate on her even more.

She was supposed to be back that exact day and the ginger couldn't wait to see her again and have another 'chat' like last time, he had everything prepared, all that was missing was her.

And luckily for him it all went as planned seeing the door open a few minutes after he had checked everything again, starting to smirk more and more as he watched every movement of the handle and the door rolling his eyes when he heard Theo's voice just waiting for Y/n to walk in and notice him.

The girl walked in quickly as she finished talking to Theo, closing the door behind her, letting out a snort while rolling her eyes walking over to the wardrobe muttering "boring" "boring? I thought you found me funny" she froze in place hearing the voice turning around slowly noticing the change in her room as she moved her gaze around stopping at the boy sitting on the bed, not being able to hold back a laugh when she saw how he was dressed "Have you been a bad girl or a good girl? ", she continued to look at him from head to toe letting out the laughter "what are you wearing? do you want a white beard too?". She slowly stopped seeing the look on the ginger's face giggling as she spoke again "depends on how you see it.. Santa". Jerome smiled darkly looking at her with hungry eyes remaining with the same position he had been since she had walked in: sitting at the end of the bed with his legs open covered by red trousers that were part of the Santa costume he wore which included the Santa coat holding it open to show his pale chest, defined abs covered by freckles and his head was covered in a Santa hat.

"I'm pretty sure you were a bad girl and bad girls get punishment," he smirked without taking his eyes off her form.

★ Jeremiah Valeska

Pairing: Jeremiah Valeska X Reader

Warnings: horny Miah? 😂

Words:

Summary: Jeremiah decides to take a break from his project

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

..............................................................

Jeremiah was still busy with a project of his when he heard the door open not taking his eyes off his papers until he heard her voice "can you help me, please? I wanted to ask Ecco but I can't find her" the ginger hinted a smile at the sound he had been missing all day bringing his half filled glass of whiskey back to his lips "I told her that she could go home for the day" the girl nodded letting out a sigh "could you help me? it doesn't take much you just have to close my zip and I won't bother you anymore," he nodded finally looking up at Y/n, widening his eyes at the sight in front of him, moving slowly closer, closing the zip of her Santa dress not wasting the moment to brush against her skin smiling when she shivered.

Y/n turned around fixing her dress while meeting her boyfriend's gaze tiredly, murmuring a thank you and moving to leave "are you going somewhere like that?" the girl turned around nodding "it's for my brother's son's party" "and here I thought it was for me" she smiled chuckling as she looked up "for you? I don't think you deserved it, you've been a bad boy this year" he smiled blushing slightly taking a sip of his drink without taking his eyes off her "and why is that? I'm pretty sure I've been a good boy this year, just like every other year," she nodded adjusting her dress again not noticing the man's hungry eyes, "too bad you're not the one to decide that," she smiled amused meeting Jeremiah's eyes for the last time, "good luck with the continuation of your project," he nodded muttering a thank you putting his glass down and opening his mouth again before she could leave, "don't you need help to open it again?" Y/n nodded, giving him a wink "I'll wait you in our room".

He smiled leaving his project behind walking quickly out, thinking that it was a good idea to take a break, not taking his eyes off the short Christmas dress she had on.

Taglist:

@gabile18

@mrsfullbuster500

@trainer--taylor

#gotham #gotham tv #gotham x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x you #jeremiah valeska #jerome valeska x reader #jerome x reader #jerome x reader x jeremiah #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska x you

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loki-hargreeves · 4 years ago

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Loki x Reader - Married in Secret

Warnings: a lot of fluff, implied smut, more fluff Word Count: 3,1K Summary: After you and Loki get engaged, Odin is trying to make a huge wedding happen for you against your wishes. So you and Loki get married in secret. Loki has another surprise for the two of you... {there are a couple choices at the end for you to choose from!} Author’s Note: I’ve always wanted to write interactive fanfiction. Better start late than never, right? Please enjoy <3 also pls don’t hate me for the vows, I did my best ok??

YOUR POV

Questions about the tiniest, most ridiculous things were bombarded at you from each direction as you walked in the palace,

“Do you want dark green or light green curtains in the ballroom?”

“We’ve already invited 500 people to the dinner party, can we stretch that to 600?”

“Should we pair the roses with orchids or gardenias?”

Ever since you and Loki had announced your engagement, Asgard had gone wild. The servants were tasked with making the most fantastic royal wedding, and it was getting exhausting. Loki hadn’t asked for this and neither had you. Odin was orchestrating it all, and it was definitely not from a good will.

The old man cared so much about appearance and he wanted to show the people what it meant to be royal. After all, Loki was a prince and you were about to become a princess. Odin wanted to put up a facade, and dare you say it seemed like he wanted to show that royalty was much better than the common people. To throw luxurious parties and waste so much gold on an unfathomable amount of flowers and other unnecessaries. To put up a show and conceal the love you and Loki had for each other. You were supposed to act cold and proud that day, but it wasn’t what you desired.

Truly, all you wanted was to be with Loki and celebrate the love you had for one another. Nothing more than that.

After days of circus Odin had created, you were done. You felt like slamming the door to your soon to be shared bedroom, but didn’t do it as you realized the door itself hadn’t done anything to you. Loki was sitting on an emerald green armchair, book in hand and he looked up to you with almost a worried gaze. It softened when he realized that it was you, not another poor servant who was terrified of getting any details wrong.

“Bad morning?” Loki judged the look on your face. Your shoulders were tense and it looked like you had been spun around like a music box doll everywhere you had been.

“You could say so,” You sighed deeply and made your way closer to Loki. Although the day had begun poorly, you felt immediately much better when you were with the Trickster you had fallen for.

Loki put the book down on the coffee table next to an empty cup of tea and he stood up, meeting you in a loving embrace. You relaxed in his arms and for a moment, you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the moment.

“I chose a dress,” You let him know. At least, that was done now. One less thing to worry about.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful,” Loki sounded excited. He couldn’t wait to see you in your bridal outfit. The thought alone made his heart race in his chest. Oh how lucky he felt to have you.

You parted from his embrace and sat down on the second armchair so you could stretch your legs. It had been a long morning.

“I don’t wish to complain,” you started carefully, “but I don’t know how much more of this I can handle. This wedding is getting out of hand.”

Loki agreed with you, but hearing it made him worry. He was afraid you would get cold feet. If so, he would certainly blame Odin for it. But now, he wiped that thought away, for he had an idea.

“My love,” Loki took your hand in his and he lowered himself on one knee right in front of you, just like he had a few weeks ago. He was so devoted to you, he made you feel special.

“Yes?”

“What if I told you I have a plan?” A familiar grin appeared on his face. The way his lips curled ever so slightly made shivers run down your spine. He was up to something.

“Oh?” You were certainly curious. Loki never had bad ideas. Well, it depended on how one would define ‘bad’ ideas.

“Let’s elope, in secret. It’ll be just you and me and whoever shall wed us. No one needs to know until it’s official,” Loki proposed his idea to you.

And it was a brilliant idea. It was exactly what you had wanted. Something small and private. Away from hundreds or thousands of eyes which meant you could be comfortable. It wouldn’t be a show, it would be a loving moment just for you and just for him, one you would cherish forever.

It was also slightly rebellious, which only made it so much better. You could already envision the smoke coming out of Odin’s ears, and the dumbfounded look on Thor’s face. The people would have something to gossip about.

“What will your family think of it?” Honestly, you didn’t really care, but you played with the idea in your mind.

Loki put on a thoughtful look for a moment, pretending to be deep in thought, “I think...” He then returned his gaze to you and a playful gleam lit in his eyes, “that I don’t care at all. Perhaps my mother will be most understanding. Either way, it’s none of their concern, so what do you say?”

“Let’s do it,” You were convinced it was the best idea he could come up with regarding your wedding.

Loki was relieved to hear that and he quickly leaned close to you in order to catch your lips with his. The kiss deepened quickly. The way he held you was so strong and lively that you were afraid the chair would fall back, so you wrapped your arms around his strong torso to brace yourself.

When his soft lips pressed against the sensitive skin on your neck, you let out a laugh, “Loki!” You held onto him tighter, “if you’re going to kiss me like that, then maybe we shall move to the bed? This armchair wasn’t made for two.”

In a graceful manner, he dragged the two of you up to your feet, off of the chair, “if you insist, my love.”

The sun was beginning to set behind the horizon. It was still warm outside and the gentle wind cooled everything down. You were high over the water which allowed you to see most of Asgard, yet the place offered much needed privacy. Shadows cast on the stony pathway under your feet, which contrasted beautifully with the golden rays of sunlight that made everything look like a page from a fairy tale. Your eyes followed the trail of flower petals that smelled so lovely and sweet, and then you saw Loki.

He was standing there with a nervous smile on his face. The officiant who was going to wed you stood beside him and even he smiled as he saw you, but you could only focus on Loki. He wore his full Asgardian gear and the gold and emerald green looked fantastic on him. His raven hair was brushed neatly and it looked soft underneath his helmet. The emerald cape was flowing ever so lightly as the wind played with it.

In that moment, you felt like the luckiest person in the nine realms.

You walked all the way up to him and then made sure your dress was smoothly cascaded around your legs and you wiped off any possible dust. It was the dress of your dreams and it made you feel so comfortable in your own skin. The jewelry you wore matched the dress and Loki’s gear, and you felt neat. You were truly a match made in the heavens.

When your eyes met with Loki’s, your heart jumped to your throat. He looked so beautiful and happy. Joy was simply radiating from him and it was infectious. To see him like that was a sight you could never forget.

He took your hands into his and whispered, “you look ever so beautiful, my dear.” There was a tear in the corner of his eye and surely there were tears in yours. This was the moment you had waited for since you were small. It was your wedding day, when you and Loki would commit to one another for the rest of your lives.

The officiant cleared his throat and you both turned to look at him. Asgardian weddings could vary so much. Everyone expected you to have the biggest wedding anyone had ever seen since Odin and Frigga’s, but here you were. It was just the three of you there. You didn’t recognize the officiant who was holding your rings, but it didn’t matter. The ceremony was going to be brief anyway and then you and Loki could do whatever your hearts desired.

At first, the officiant spoke about your forefathers and mothers, asked them to bless you on your shared journey that was about to begin. He talked about Valhalla, and wished you strength and luck for your future. Eventually, it was time for your vows. You were slightly nervous then and you wondered how you would’ve felt if all of Asgard had been watching you. That would’ve been a nightmare.

Loki took a deep breath as he prepared to speak. He had tried his best to remember his vows without having to look at a paper. Although he had known you for so long and shown you his most vulnerable sides, he felt jittery as he prepared to recite his vows to you.

“Y/N,” He began by saying your name. You gave his hands a comforting squeeze. You wondered if his words would make you cry.

“You’re the love of my life. I still don’t understand what I did in order to end up with you, but I promise to make it all worthwhile. I assure you, I will stand by your side through thick and thin. I won’t let anything come between us, ever,” Loki seemed more confident after a few lines. He stood more comfortable and let the tension wash away from his muscles.

“I will treat you like the goddess you are and I will support you through everything in life. You make me so happy, and I wish to make you happy too. I will cherish each and every day that I get to spend with you, because I love you. I love you for all that you are and who you will become as we grow. You make me feel like a better person and you make me want to be good.”

“...I want to listen to you, to be your rock. I want to go through good days and bad because now I know that I won’t be alone. I know that I am much to handle, but I will never allow my life to come in the way of yours. No matter where life takes us, I won’t leave you alone. As long as we’re together, I promise to be the best version of myself. For our future family, for us, for you,” Loki continued his vows smoothly. Each word seemed to come straight from his heart and soul. They certainly tugged at your heartstrings in the very best way. There was no doubt, Loki loved you as much as you loved him.

“I will love you, always,” He finished his vows with a pledge. If it wasn’t for the ceremony, you would’ve kissed him. Each cell of your being was practically begging for it, but you kept yourself together for just a while longer.

He grabbed the golden ring carefully, afraid he would drop it. Then he held your hand and slipped the ring on your finger. It was a perfect fit and it looked amazing. The green jewel looked like magic as sunlight pierced through it from a million different angles. You would have to get used to carrying that on your finger, but it wasn’t heavy. It was just right.

Now it was your turn. Both Loki and the officiant looked at you expectantly. How could you match Loki’s words? You only hoped that he could feel the sincerity of your soft spoken words.

“Loki, you are the light of my life, the reason why I get through even the hardest of days, and why I can enjoy the good days even more than I usually would,” You tried your hardest to stay composed. A part of you wanted to crumble because you were so overwhelmed with love. When you felt his hands on yours, you managed to stay calm and collected and you continued,

“I promise to be your ally in conflict, your partner in life, parenthood, crime,” You joked just to ease the tension you felt, earning a chuckle from Loki who hadn’t expected that, but he found it amusing nonetheless. This was exactly why he loved you. You were never too serious. Truly, you were his partner in crime.

“I promise to be yours forever. Being with you makes life feel complete. On hard days when we argue, I promise I won’t go to bed angry. I want to work with you through everything life has to offer. I will never abandon you. If you go, I go, right?” You paused for a moment and tried to remember the rest of your vows. You had written them down several times and you were happy you did so, because it made it so much easier to remember. The sentences came straight from your heart now.

Before you could go on, you decided to grab the ring that would soon decorate his hand. You held onto it for dear life.

“I can’t wait to grow old with you, Loki. I promise to give you my heart, my soul, my faith. Regardless of what happens in the future, I’m here for you. We will face it all together. From this day forward, until the day we die, until we are reunited in Valhalla, I love you. Always,” You felt immensely relieved as you finished your vows. It felt good to have said it all and know that soon you would be married.

Loki let you put the ring around his finger, and his ring fit him flawlessly too. For a moment, you adored the way your hands looked now that you both had your wedding rings on. It was almost too good to be true.

And when you tried to study Loki’s expression, you felt confident that the words had been enough for his ears. You couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so radiant. It was like you had stepped on cloud nine together and nothing could possibly drag you down.

The officiant deemed you finished, so he spoke, “I say this before our forefathers and mothers so that they may bless this marriage. They may bare witness to the bond that you are about to form,” He turned to face the prince, “do you Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard take Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until all eternity’s end?”

The moment you had waited for was finally here

Loki faced you fully and he couldn’t dream of getting married to anyone but you. It was easy for him to say, “I do.”

The man nodded and then asked you the very same question, “Do you Y/N Y/L/N, take Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until all eternity’s end?

Your heart was racing in your chest. It was like you were floating, that was how delighted you felt. There was no doubt to be found in your voice as you responded,

“I do.”

“Very well then,” The man failed to hold back a smile, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. May the gods and goddesses of Valhalla bless this marriage.”

Just like that, you were married.

Both of you were so ecstatic. When Loki leaned close to you and kissed you, it felt like you had entered paradise. Like all the flowers bloomed in seconds, like butterflies danced all around you, like you were bathing in sunlight and magic. You were enveloped in each other’s arms and your lips were sealed in a passionate kiss that felt never ending. It was your first kiss in the new chapter of your lives, and it was just for you.

The officiant gathered his things and left as quietly as a mouse, which Loki and he had agreed upon previously. That you barely noticed as you were lost in one another. It wasn’t until you parted from the kiss that you realized you were alone, just the way you liked it, away from prying eyes.

Loki wrapped his arm around your waist and then turned to look over the balcony. Vines were hanging over the railing and now you noticed the flowers he - or someone else - had set up. The sun was almost below the horizon and it painted the sky a beautiful mix of orange, gold and pink. Far away, you could already see a pool of stars gathering around the moons of Asgard. It was a beautiful sight.

“We’re married,” Loki had to say it out loud. It was difficult to believe to be true.

“Yes we are, my husband,” calling Loki that was thrilling. You wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

My husband, he enjoyed the sound of that. He would never grow bored of hearing it, he was sure. Loki played with the material of your dress, finding it smooth to touch. He couldn’t wait to discard it. He wanted to make you get lost in pleasure and bliss that night.

“I have a surprise for us,” Loki decided it was time.

“You do?”

“It’s our wedding day, my love. Of course I have more planned out for just the two of us,” Loki explained. He had been determined to make it special without guests. If others insisted on having a party later, that would be a problem for another day. You could celebrate without the judging guests and Loki’s family that could be a bit over the top.

“Does it involve cake?” You wondered curiously as he offered you his arm to hold onto. As you accepted that, he began to lead the way.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

~ select your surprise ~

[surprise 1]

[surprise 2]

[surprise 3]

A/N: choose wisely! Or read them all, it’s up to you.

I tried not to make the wedding too earthly, you know? I hope you enjoyed it. Now please, enjoy the surprise ending of your choosing :)

TAGS:

Forever Taglist: @iraniq @embrycallsgirl @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14 @peterpanouat

Loki: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02 @myraiswack @prettysbliss @weirdfangirl2416

#interactive fic #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Fanfiction #Loki fluff #Loki x Y/N #Loki/Y/N #Loki/You #Loki/Reader #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #MCU fanfiction #Marvel fanfiction

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moonbaby26 · 3 years ago

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Title: Growing Love

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: Story set nearer the Viking Age. You were a Greek sea goddess who crossed paths with the god of mischief. Continuation of previous chapter. Loki returns to Asgard and is confronted by his mother Frigga and her accurate suspicions on his newfound interest in Midgard. While you witness the completion of the building erected for you and Loki by the villagers, followed by his return back to you in the night.

Warnings: None this chapter. Just fluff! First Loki and his mental sparring with Frigga who loves him, and then some well deserved cuddling with you who is also starting to.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosaline-black , @lawfeys , @loveableasshole , @insanitybyanothername , @just-wordsandthoughts , @cringingmemeries

My Masterlist

——————————

A few days ago, Asgard

Loki emerged from the light, now back home before the bifrost immediately closed once more. The smug smile remained on his face as your last question still played through his mind. He knew that nickname he’d given you wouldn’t be something you’d let go of anytime soon. In fact, he counted on it. Something to distract and occupy you for the coming weeks until he could return.

It may be selfish of course. But if you were becoming stuck in his mind this often, he had to make sure he wasn’t the only one now having to suffer. Though there was something rewarding about getting to hide you away still. Even if he knew the arrangement in the village would come to light eventually, potentially making these trips to your realm far more problematic.

The sooner he could find an alternate route to Midgard to bypass the bifrost and Heimdall entirely, the better. He could not allow all his future ability to see you to become solely dependent on Odin’s whims.

Whatever the Allfather would think of these risks now being taken though, Loki truly did not care. But historically, whatever he’d most desired always ended up taken away from him in one way or another. Or even worse, absorbed into the limitless well of good fortune that seemed to follow Thor like a miasma. So he had to prepare for that, plan for it really.

Of course, you didn’t seem the type to fall apart so easily over just some long blonde hair and an oversized set of muscles. But Loki had lost count ages ago of how many times he’d still ended up with the short end of the stick whenever his brother had entered any situation. Parading you before Thor wan’t something he was willing to chance just yet either.

No, he had to consider both his father and brother now as threats to these new emotions he was still trying to define. It likely shouldn’t be so, but somehow it always was. They always got in his way.

And as Loki now strode forward, his appearance only shifted to that of a standard royal guard, wishing for a more discreet entrance back into the palace after so many hours away. He had let the adorations of those mortals delay him far more than expected.

But the feel of sitting at the head of that mead hall with you at his side had hit him in such a strange way as well. A fleeting taste which had caused him to linger even further there as he’d fantasized about sitting similarly content on Asgard’s throne one day.

That dream of seizing his birthright was nothing new of course, yet the difference was now the addition of you in that mental image. He wanted you there so suddenly, with loyalty and pride radiating from you for all the court to see. He needed you to want to be his, to be willing to do whatever necessary to defy Asgard’s enemies in his name.

And even now, those thoughts brought a flare of desire that he could not act on. Frustrating as it was, he knew he had to maintain some semblance of patience. Heimdall’s silent stare of judgement didn’t even rile him to speaking either as the still disguised Loki passed silently by the gatekeeper.

He was bold enough to change appearance right in front of Heimdall, yes. But he also knew that until he crossed the line of actually doing something which broke Asgardian law, Heimdall would still keep what he had seen to himself. Travel to Midgard was not yet forbidden after all.

But Heimdall’s current courtesy of silence would only go so far as to delay the inevitable. The clock was still ticking on this secret and Loki knew it.

And unlike Midgard that had still been fully night, dawn was now just breaking in Asgard as Loki made his way back into the palace. The sparse guards he did encounter, he only gave little mocking salutes to. Still in the guise of one of them as he’d mimicked their own protocols before he’d turned the corner into the next corridor and ended up at the massive doors to his own living quarters.

So close to being able to hide himself back away for a few moments before the palace fully awakened, he had just placed his palms on the ornate, golden door handles when a sudden sound made him still completely.

“Good morning, son.” The placid voice called to him from nothing as his mother Frigga only materialized directly behind him.

And there was just that smallest moment of fear inside him. Just the length of a heartbeat before he’d turned smoothly to face her, his own magic dissolving to remove his disguise as excuses bubbled readily to his mind.

Of course he was still in the same armor from all those hours before, the muck of that mortal village even still marring the soles of his boots as he offered her an easy smile. “Well...how long have you been waiting here, Mother?”

Yet she responded just as simply, a gentle look in her eyes. “Not long at all really. I suppose I have good timing.”

But he was still searching, examining her body language for any hint of her actual intention. How much did she know? “I suppose that you do. Have Father and dear brother yet returned triumphant from Alfheim then?” No, he doubted that. The halls would not be near as peaceful if so.

“No. They have not.” She only answered. “...But that is exactly why I thought you may wish to speak to me now while whatever we discuss can still be kept relatively private.”

And there it was. He felt that slight bit of tension in his chest as he weighed his options in quick succession. The foundation with you still wasn’t fully laid, he needed more time to secure things. Even though he trusted Frigga, she and the Allfather went hand in hand in the end. She would not lie to her husband if pressed.

And Odin may forbid this odd new relationship outright, fearing some insult to Poseidon no doubt. If that foreign, Olympian king fully knew that the Asgardian god of mischief was now digging his claws greedily into his youngest daughter without permission, it could easily become a full blown scandal.

Loki hadn’t even bothered to investigate if you were betrothed to anyone in your own kingdom or not either. He did not care. He was a prince and would take whatever he wanted.

Though he knew it better to reveal nothing of you to his own family just yet, he also knew that if he offered Frigga too little in return, she would only step up her efforts to investigate on her own. Motherly concern and all, endearing at times, highly troublesome at others. He’d let her feel as if she had pried a little out of him at least as he played along. “And what is it that we should need to discuss so privately, Mother?” Loki asked calmly at last.

Yet she only smiled, surprising him a little still as she took his arm. “Come. Walk with me. You needn’t play such games. A mother knows when her son is enamored.”

He scoffed, though still letting himself be led as they did begin to walk. The halls were still empty enough this early in the morning for their words to not be easily overheard. “Is that what you think this all about? I think you’re confusing me with that manchild of yours for once.”

“Loki,” Frigga only chided. “It is not weakness to admit such feelings. And yes, for your brother that is an all too frequent cycle. He is not yet mature enough for his relationships to be anything but passing frivolity. But you are different. Which is why it becomes all the more noticeable when it finally does happen. Do not waste breath to deny it.”

He raised his eyebrows, never missing when she did offer even the slightest criticism of Thor. But he was still quick to downplay her insinuation about your importance. “Yet you act as if it has never happened for me before. Just because I’ve been more focused on honing my sorcery skills the last several years, it doesn’t mean I haven’t had my share of frivolity as you call it, Mother.”

But Frigga just gave him a disapproving look then. “Do not be crude just to try and shorten this conversation. There is a clear difference between solely that kind of physical interaction you speak of, and this distraction that has now carried you back to Midgard more than three times now. And you know the significance of the number three in so many of the rituals and rights I have taught you, it-”

“No.” He cut in abruptly. That was the line. If she was trying to say this was already something now beyond his control, something fated, he fully rejected that notion. “I don’t follow the predetermined, Mother. And you know I never want to hear whatever future you’ve seen for me. I will make my own.”

But the queen of Asgard was not one to back down either, responding just as strongly, “And all a witch can see is the possible outcomes, not the one that will truly be. I would never curse you with the burden of such knowledge, even if I were sure. But don’t patronize me to act as if nothing has changed for you. I came here to offer you my help, Loki. If you ever wish to make whoever you have chosen legitimate in the Allfather’s eyes, to actually bring them here one day, you will not be able to do it alone. I hope you understand that.”

“Mother...” He couldn’t help but pause to look in her eyes again, as unexpected as that offer really was. Yet he so quickly grabbed onto the possible other meaning as well in her concern. “You say ‘legitimate’ almost as if I was considered the true heir again. After all, who the future king of Asgard could court would be awfully more important than whoever just a prince would choose, correct? Of course, I suppose a marriage that one day joined Asgard and Midgard would also be significantly more impressive politically than say Thor and Sif, or whoever the Hel he’s galavanting around with these nights...”

She gave him a little hit on the arm at that. Of course he knew she hated whenever he mocked whoever his brother’s current fancy was. But she still just continued. “What should be important to you is finding the person that makes you happy, regardless of their own station. That is the future I want for both my sons. Whichever of you should one day hold the throne.”

Of course she still refused to admit Father’s favoritism that Loki saw all too well. He straightened up a little, that real sincerity in him burning through then. “But it will be me, Mother. I will prove myself worthy to Father, worthy of the throne. One way or another.”

And he hated that sympathetic look in her eyes, even though the real warmth was still there as she answered. “And I still say you’ll be far happier when you focus on yourself rather than chasing the Allfather’s approval. He already loves you both, just as I do.”

That was all he could handle for now, as he took her hand gently, bowing to her slightly before he kissed it. “No, he does not love as unequivocally as you do, Mother. But I do thank you for that. I will consider your offer. Yet I think it is still too early just yet.”

And as he straightened back up, he could see she at least accepted this. She would not dig any further into his visits to Midgard just yet. But he’d only bought additional time for just so long he was sure.“I’m going back to my quarters for a brief rest now.” He told her. “But if you need me any further today, you will find me in the throne room. Where I belong.”

Until Odin and Thor returned from Alfheim, this would be his privilege. His days would be spent hearing any grievances of the kingdom, presiding over council meetings, casting decisions on any changes to security measures, and standing as the head of all the remaining soldiers here for Asgard’s defense.

But at night...at night he’d return to his chambers. And laying there alone, surely that would be when he’d pass the remaining time awake thinking of you. Thinking and hoping that those mortals would hurry up and complete that room and bed for you both.

Whatever they built would still not be to his standards he was sure. But until you could truly lay in his own bed beneath him in Asgard, he would have to accept the compromise of a little hovel of a den for you both in Midgard.

—————————-

Midgard, several weeks later

The days passed so slowly for you. You now divided your time between your normal duties monitoring the oceans, and taking that form of the osprey, flying to visit the little village in the north that Loki had claimed for you both.

Never before had you spent so much time around mortals to be honest. And at first you’d still taken every possible measure to remain hidden from their sight. But eventually, that effort grew too tiresome.

After a while, you didn’t stay so high in the trees any longer. Yourself curious to be true, and watching as step by step they’d raised the timbers to begin building that structure Loki had requested.

You still stayed just out of their reach surely, but you didn’t fly away anymore when you saw them take notice of you. They’d even greet you quite frequently now, just calling you that nickname Loki had given you which they thought your real name. Kærr.

Especially the children. Whenever they moved out into the forest to play or gather freshwater from the nearby stream you’d also now discovered, they always giggled and called to you as they ran along beneath.

You’d even noticed that they gradually seemed to stray farther and farther from the village than they had in the beginning. As if your presence alone gave them confidence of their safety. It was such an odd sense of responsibility. One you weren’t quite sure you were ready for just yet.

The days were growing shorter too, the nights far colder by the time they finally finished that building. And as Loki had suggested, it was still quite small. Like a one room cabin really. Though they’d made quite a show of asking for your approval on it, you didn’t know what you were supposed to really do. They seemed to take your silence as a positive at least before they’d left again saying you could now summon your “master” and they would leave him to his privacy in the new dwelling.

You’d still waited until it was late at night though, knowing most the mortals would now be sleeping before you’d finally landed, changing back to the form of a woman as you’d walked to take a closer look at the building in the dim moonlight.

They’d built this also far enough from the village, here in the deeper woods that they could not stumble accidentally back upon it unless they really meant to. So you weren’t afraid of being seen as you’d walked the perimeter curiously.

It seemed sturdy enough. Quaint, but somehow inviting. And as you moved back towards the door, you realized they’d also listened to Loki’s criticism on their village’s carvings needing to be changed to reflect their new protector.

You couldn’t help but smile as you recognized well that likeness as you now ran your fingers across the rises and falls carved into the wood. The cape, the outlines of armor, the horned helmet...

But the real surprise was his pose, one arm bent, raised near level with his chest. And there perched upon that arm, was a bird of prey. You. Looking far more regal than you ever really had right to be you were sure.

There was a mix of mild embarrassment and a strange amusement that rose in you as you took the whole image in. It was quite possibly the only likeness anyone had ever made for you in the mortal realm. And paired with Loki no less.

Eros’ words carried on your heart still as you finally opened the door to venture inside. You knew Eros couldn’t be wrong, not on this subject. But it didn’t seem like it should be true either. How could you be falling in love when you didn’t even know the real meaning of the word? When you’d only had such fleeting meetings with this man?

The little bit of moonlight barely penetrated the inside of the dwelling and you just left the door open to not fully smother the light as you walked in onto the rough wooden floors. Though they’d laid down some rugs as well as your feet found them.

The furniture was sparse and simple, though maybe still the best of what they had to be truthful. A couple chairs, a small table, a chest for belongings, and of course a bed.

There were candles, but you had nothing to light them with as you now sat down on the empty bed. It was certainly a far cry from the large and extravagant bedding in your father’s palace.

But for someone who could just as easily sleep to the rocking of the waves or the silence of the deeper depths, a makeshift mattress stuffed with wool, moss, or who really knew what, really wasn’t a problem.

It was so quiet too. You laid down on your back, just to get the feeling of it as you stared up at the beams which arched into the ceiling. It reminded you most of the beams inside the hull of a ship, which was likely little coincidence. The ancestors of these people were all seafarers.

Idly, you wondered too if Loki had ever been to sea. You knew from those books you’d read that Asgard had waters of its own. But did he feel comfortable on the water? Did he ever sail? Did he swim? And maybe more importantly, would he ever swim with you?

You closed your eyes, thinking what it could be like to show him things he’d never seen before. Would he feel as good under the water as he did above it? Would he ever visit your own kingdom?

Of his own family, all you really knew was the tension and seeming competition between he and his brother. Would any of your own siblings be impressed by him though? Surprised surely. You’d never brought anyone to the palace before. Maybe one day...

————————————

You thought you were only dreaming. Because it wasn’t as if it hadn’t happened before. Especially in the long stretches between seeing one another. That scent of him, the feel of his cool skin against your own, albeit only making you feel heated as you breathed in deeper.

It wasn’t until you felt that lightest kiss on the back of your neck that your eyes fluttered open. Laying on your side on the bed, as your vision focused you noticed the door to the cabin was now closed. That and a single candle newly lit, flickering dimly on the small table just a few feet away.

You’d fallen asleep at some point. For how long was unclear. But you were absolutely no longer alone.

“Hello, Kærr.” Loki’s voice came in an almost taunting whisper, using that nickname again.

You were startled, but you didn’t hesitate, rolling over immediately to then be face to face with him in the shifting candlelight.

The glint of his teeth met you as he smiled in amusement. But whatever harsh words you may have thought he still deserved, they didn’t come as you’d also noticed his bare chest now nearly against you.

You had to glance down to realize he wasn’t nude however. But dressed solely in a dark pair of pants as he laid so closely beside you.

“You left the door open you know. I took it as an invitation.” He added, one hand now tracing idly down the side of your dress.

“How long have you been here?” You finally asked, but tellingly not pulling away at all as you let the small touches continue.

“Long enough to realize you’ll have me putting protection spells all around these walls if this is how deeply you really sleep, goddess. Imagine if I’d wanted to do more than kiss that pretty throat.”

You stared a moment. And yes, maybe you should have been embarrassed to be caught so defenseless. But in reality, what real enemies had you ever had? You didn’t live always keeping one eye over your shoulder. Yet...was he implying he would choose to protect you if it ever came to that?

You only shifted closer to him at those words rather than retort though, boldly laying your head against his chest then as you scooted down a little in the bed. You liked the way he tensed slightly too, seeming surprised before he just pulled the bed’s quilt up around you both.

The secure feeling as his arm tightened around you beneath the blanket was also very new. Both of you quiet until it was you who next broke the silence. “Will you stay tonight then?” You could have asked how he’d known you were here, how many times he’d been checking on you via Heimdall, but it really didn’t matter.

All you actually cared about in this moment was how long until you’d have to say goodbye to him again.

His tone seemed unusual, caught off guard still perhaps. But he answered simply. “If it’s what you want. Yes.”

Which likely meant that his father and brother had finally returned to Asgard you thought. But you didn’t want to talk about anyone else right now. This time was now just for the two of you.

“It is what I want.” You confirmed, though not looking up at him in the bed. But with your head still against his chest, you could just hear his own heartbeat. And you didn’t think it was only in your imagination that it quickened at those simple words.

But it was true. You may not understand or be able to express more than this right now. You didn’t know how to talk about love or deeper need. Yet you could be honest to say you wanted him to stay. You wanted him beside you for as long as he could be.

And he just held onto you, staying pressed together as if it should always be this way. But it had to mean something to him too you hoped. Because Loki didn’t seem at all the type of god to do anything if it didn’t fulfill some sort of need for himself as well.

No, you didn’t think he would stay just because you’d asked, unless he’d already wanted to. But you wouldn’t question it out loud, not now as you closed your eyes again.

It likely didn’t take you very long to fall back asleep either to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat beneath your head. Yet even as you did you could also feel the rise and fall of his chest steadying out as his breathing relaxed in tandem.

If he did stay awake to watch you, it only would have been just barely as the two of you remained curled into one another beneath that blanket. He’d asked you once before, though under more lustful circumstances, if you could get used to being with him. You’d answered yes then, wanting the chance surely, but had he meant it in this way too when he’d asked?

Eros had given you the advice to see this through. He said it was the only way to know if your growing love might ever actually be returned by this god. And that was exactly what you were now going to do.

—————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#loki #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki lafeyson #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki odison x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki fandom #loki x original character #loki x original female character

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oldmanlenz · 3 years ago

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Mun stole this because it looked fun to fill in, so here it is-

Full Name: Billy Lenz

(Note: the name 'Billy' is actually a nickname for William, however I don't want to be 100% accurate in here with identities. Plus I feel like Billy doesn't identify with the actual William name, if you call him that he'd become inconsolable, no doubt in my mind he'd become aggressive too.)

Nicknames: Billy, Bill, Bee, mr. Lenz, mr. Billy, the old Moaner, old man, senior citizen

Place of birth: Good old Toronto, he was born there and he will never get out, not that he wants to. It's unspecified as to exactly where, city/hospital-wise he was born, or if he was born in a hospital at all, the old man can't recall, he's unsure if he even lived in Toronto already back then or if his family moved.

Current location: Toronto. He'll most likely never be able to leave Canada in general, long bus rides stress him out and airplanes scare the shit out of him, he would definitely end up vomiting multiple times on an airplane.

Sexual/romantic orientation: gay gay homosexual gay

Preferred pronouns: he/him and it/it's, mainly. He doesn't care much really, people assumed he was a woman on the phone multiple times too due to his voice impressions.

Sex: yes

Gender: manly man with horrible lifestyle choices

One personality trait they’re proud of having: Close to none. This man is quite ashamed of most things he's ended up becoming.

Defining gestures (i.e. lip twitching, keeping eyes on the ground, etc.): Often fiddles and fidgets with his own (sometimes very shaky) hands, twirls the cord of the telephone when using it to speak to someone else, often holding onto his own gut, tugging/pulling at his own skin(usually from his hands or neck) rather harshly, or gripping tightly at his own sweater(usually when nervous).

(He doesn't exactly have a gentle grip no matter how hard he tries, so he sometimes ends up hurting himself on accident by either squeezing his stomach too hard or have what little fingernails he still has dig too deeply into the skin.)

Speaking style (i.e. fast, loud, stuttering, etc.): A lot of times he just talks gibberish(especially over the phone), and another noticeable thing in his speaking is his stuttering in most sentences he manages to get out of his mouth. Other few times he talks so fast it can come off as gibberish to others.

He's not always a loud talker, he doesn't scream much nowdays since it hurts his ears(when he was younger he was not in a lucid state half the time, so, while screaming did hurt and stress him, he physically was unable to force himself to stop, which stressed him further), but he usually still raises his voice over the phone. Other than that, he keeps his voice on a moderate level, sometimes a bit too hushed.

Insecurities: A lot, going from physical, to social, to delusional.

Positive traits: He's very accepting of things, especially more 'modern' terms and such, even when he doesn't fully understand them, he welcomes it. Besides that, he's quite clever too, despite how out of control he used to be, he was and still is able to find out some kind of way to weasel around what he does.

Negative traits: He's got...maybe a bit too many, his impulsivity being one of the top ones, since he still sometimes acts on impulse without properly thinking about what he gets himself into. He's always been a tad egocentric/selfish as well, over the years it went from being a more reasonable sort of self-centered thinking, mostly due to him being homeless and resorting to breaking into people's attics to get warm back then, to a slightly more childlike one now, choosing to continue to break into people's houses for shits and gigs(and if he gets caught he panics, like a child who just got caught with their hands in the cookie jar, then gets mad), he just finds this to be entertaining and a fun way to 'conversate' to other individuals, since his people skills are awful.

Other people’s opinions of them: Either the classic "great uncle George there has been smoking from the wrong pipe again", to getting called a pervert over the phone, the usual. To absolutely no one's surprise the guy almost always comes off as creepy or 'not all there' even when he's genuinely trying to socialize properly.

Three words to describe them: Libido. Attic. Rat.

One major turning point in their life: The day he finally broke down and knew/planned to kill both his parents, that action alone is sort of what ended up spiraling into him being completely unable to control himself. Along with that, the day Agnes escaped from the basement of their house and (finally) got away from him, he felt betrayed and abandoned(in his mind he had this delusional belief that his sister was the only person he could trust and understand him), even if he Knew he had hurt her.

If they could time travel, when would they go? He'd go get some good waffles at the very first waffle house ever opened in 1955 so he'd be the first customer to step foot inside that building.

Ideal romantic partner: Literally anyone with enough patience to deal with him and his breakdowns, and responsible enough to take care of him and keep him under control.

Favourite way to waste time: He was nicknamed The Moaner over the phone for a reason, and that reason just so happens to be his favourite hobby.

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen? One out of three things, most likely. He either starts drawing on it, writing whatever comes to mind, or he begins to eat the paper and nibble on the pencil.

View on home and family? In the past? Disastrous and terrifying. Right now? Still somewhat disastrous but with some more stability and...best part of all: HE gets to control his own life! Finally! Plus, Billy now has three lovely kitties to take care of🥰

Any secret stashes? He has a big stash of plushies and dolls in his attic, half of which he stole from homes all around his neighborhood, because he thinks he deserves toys more than actual children.

How do they express themselves? It depends. Sometimes the old man might just throw a snowball in your face just to tell you "good morning" with a shit-eating grin on his face, other times he might creep into your house and leave you an anonymous written letter on your dining table, other times he just wants to have a laugh or rub one out so he calls you on the phone from inside your own house before beginning his usual conversation about female genitalia and big boy manly male genitalia.

He's grown smarter from his previous experiences with breaking and entering too, now he purposefully breaks into people's attics with a telephone(or takes one from inside the house), plugs it in, and if he does get the police involved again, to avoid getting tracked he just leaves and either leaves the telephone in there too or he takes it with himself.

What did they want to be when they grew up? He only wanted to be away from his mother, fear and anger took up any space for a dream job in his mind back in the day.

What do you like most about them? I don't....know honestly, everything I suppose? I find the idea of an anonymous, perverted character like this, having reached old age and still being able to keep up his harassing calls, to be stupidly entertaining and interesting since I like to dig deep into his personality.

One or more plots you’re dying to have: Nothing special right now, to be frank. Buuut I wish I could dig deeper on how he met his partner and how their first few interactions were like.

#extra info on the old man i guess😔#*not in your attic ooc #//oh dramatic relief i thought it was me// lore #//it's cold out here...// lore #//creep? hmm..i take offense for that.//#billy lenz #|👁| <it's me!#take a shot for every time i write 'over the phone'

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

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Guard My Heart - Ch 1 Daylight’s Wasting

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Read on AO3

Written for @livrever as part of the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Secret Admirer Lukanette Exchange!

Happy LBSC Exchaaaaaaaaange and I'm the one who gets to write for @livrever, who's been doing so much heavy lifting making sure everything runs smoothly this year! Because I am a sucker I decided to combine her prompts (I should have known better, since the last time I combined prompts from Mal I ended up with Killer Combo) soooooo today you get a first chapter instead of a completed story. I'll reveal the second prompt when it is time, but the first one was neighboring shop owners. I opted for slightly different than the traditional take for Reasons.

I love you to pieces Mal and I really hope you enjoy the journey!

Marinette is moving out on her own and starting her own shop, where she can be the boss and responsible for no one but herself. The years have taught her that for Ladybug to do her job, Marinette has to maintain a certain amount of distance in her personal life...but how's she supposed to do that when a blast from the past is moving in next door? Especially when she's got a box full of nosy kwamis cheering her on...This was not the new beginning she had in mind!

Rating: M, Implied sexual content in later chapters

“This is the big day,” Tikki crowed from Marinette's shoulder, and Marinette tried to smile as she carefully maneuvered her rented van around all the other vehicles crowding the back alley. “Come on, Marinette,” Tikki said gently, nuzzling up against her cheek. “It’s okay to be excited.”

“I am excited,” Marinette told her, putting the vehicle in park. “This is a big deal, Tikki. It’s just that there’s a lot of work to do and I need to be focused on that right now.”

“I wish you didn’t have to do all of this alone,” Tikki fretted. “It’s a lot to do by yourself. Are you sure you don’t want to call anyone?”

“I’ll manage,” Marinette smiled, flexing her arm for Tikki’s benefit. “Besides,” she sighed, opening the door as Tikki zipped into the purse at her hip. “Who would I call?”

Tikki didn’t have a chance to answer as Marinette jumped down from the van. She glanced around the alley at her fellow business owners who were also moving in. Some of them looked almost finished; some, like her, were only just getting started.

Marinette tried not to feel a little irked at the people who were already almost done. How early had they gotten here? Maybe their renovations had been finished earlier and they’d gotten a head start. Marinette pouted for a moment, and then tried to put it out of her mind. It wasn’t a competition, after all. She just needed to focus on her own work. She had a strict schedule written out and taped to the inside of the van that would have her moved into her new shop and the apartment above it, hopefully in time to make a quick run for groceries before it got too late.

Besides, the other shop owners probably had help or had hired people, whereas Marinette was depending on nothing but her own muscles. She couldn’t afford to hire anybody, she didn’t want to wait until her parents were free, and her friends...well. She had her life and they had their lives and other than a few friendly texts now and then, their paths didn’t really cross anymore except for major life events. Despite Tikki’s hints that opening her first boutique should have fallen into that category, it just didn’t seem worth the effort to push the issue. Marinette could do this alone. She was used to it.

A smile grew on her face as she pulled the shiny new keys from her pocket and unlocked the back door of the shop. Marinette couldn’t help a muffled squeal and a hop of excitement as it swung open wide. She kicked down the doorstop to hold it open, and went inside.

Marinette passed through the back room that would serve as storage and workshop, and into the small storefront. She stood there for a moment, suddenly feeling shaky and a bit short of breath. She swallowed. “This is a really big deal, Tikki,” she said, dropping unceremoniously to the floor. She ran her fingertips over the rough texture of the commercial carpeting she had picked out. “I can’t screw this up.”

“You won’t, Marinette,” Tikki assured her, peeping out cautiously. “It’s going to be okay. One step at a time, remember?”

“Right,” Marinette agreed, still breathless, and she pushed herself back up. “Time to get to work.”

She got to her feet, and went back through the shop and then upstairs to the apartment, propping all the doors open, mentally reviewing her plan and where everything would go. Marinette felt both excitement and relief at the thought of finally living on her own, with no one else to make excuses to. Starting tonight, no one would be monitoring her coming and going, or asking where she’d been, or complaining that she’d left her share of the chores undone. No one to report to, no one to worry, no one to disappoint. As nervous as she was about the risks of this new venture, that alone would be a weight off her shoulders.

Doors open and empty rooms ready, Marinette went back outside. She threw up the gate on the back of the van, pulled out the ramp, and took a deep breath as she surveyed the contents, nervousness suddenly threatening to overshadow her earlier confidence. “Okay,” she murmured to herself. “It looks like a lot, all stuffed together like this, but I can do it. Somehow.”

Marinette had packed the van carefully, and her boxes were meticulously labelled and color coded with stickers, so that she knew as soon as she picked a box up whether it was for the shop interior, the back room, or the apartment upstairs. Her world narrowed to the task before her, and she didn’t even notice the looks she got as she hauled box after box and pieces of disassembled furniture into her new space. Her muscles burned, but it was a familiar sensation, a normal sensation. Marinette had learned to take comfort from anything normal, especially on a day like today, when so much was changing. The burn was a reminder to pause and stretch and take a moment to breathe, and that helped keep her focused.

When it started to verge on too much, Marinette sat down on the ledge of her propped-open shop door to rest and drink a bottle of water, mentally assessing her progress and comparing it against her schedule. She was doing pretty well, she thought, although the hard stuff was still to come.

“Marinette?”

She jumped, nearly spilling her water all over herself, and looked up to the man who had spoken to her. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “L-Luka?” she gasped, scrambling to her feet. “Is that you?”

He grinned, and there was no mistaking it. His hair was a little bit longer, still streaked with blue but tied back at the nape of his neck, and his bangs were clipped back away from his sweaty face. His dimples were more prominent in his leaner face, his jaw more defined, but his smile and his eyes were the same. “Hey,” he said, as calmly as if they’d last seen each other yesterday instead of almost ten years ago, as he adjusted the box he was holding. “Wow, what a surprise, meeting you here.” That was putting it mildly, and Marinette almost laughed at the typically Luka understatement. His eyes flicked to the propped open door and his eyebrows went a little higher. “Are you...moving in?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, running her hand through her sweaty bangs, and trying to find the ground again. She hadn’t expected to run into anybody she knew today, let alone Luka. She hadn’t even known for sure that he was back in Paris. Marientte felt a pang looking at him, something between guilt and grief, and she suddenly didn’t know what to say.

Luka shifted his box again, drawing her eyes to both the box and the bunched muscles in the arms holding it. Her eyes snapped back to his face. “Wait,” she said incredulously, “Are you—”

“Yep,” he grinned, and nodded at the next door down from hers. “I’m on the corner, so...looks like we’re gonna be neighbors.” He groaned and hiked the box up again. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta put this down, but—when we’re done, maybe we could grab coffee or something, catch up? If you want to?”

“Sure!” Marinette smiled brightly. “I’d love to.”

The slow grin that spread over his face made her insides wobble a little. Wow, she thought, he really grew up. That smile had been intense enough when they were younger; with the sharper features of his more mature face it was devastating. “Okay. I’ll come over when I’m done and give you a hand if you’re still working. See you later.”

“Bye.” Marinette waved weakly, as Luka went to his own door, propped open like hers was. “Oh my God, Tikki,” Marinette hissed, and heard a giggle near her hip. “This isn’t funny, Tikki, what am I going to do?”

“Just go with it, Marinette,” Tikki advised cheerfully. “I know you’ve been lonely, and Luka was always a good friend to you. Maybe this is fate bringing you back together!”

“Tikki,” Marinette sighed, and leaned back against the building behind her, tipping her head back to knock gently against it. She paused, and then opened her purse to look down at the kwami and give her a look. “Fate, or luck?”

“Does it matter?” Tikki asked, shrugging. Her big eyes softened and she reached out just enough to pat Marinette’s hand. “I know you feel bad about the way you two left things, but Luka was always good for you, and you could use a friend like him right now. It doesn’t have to be romantic, Marinette. Don’t overthink it. It’s not good for you to be so alone, so just give it a chance and see what happens!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and sighed, and then checked the time. She needed to get moving if she wanted to stay on schedule, and people were going to think she was crazy if they saw her talking to her handbag.

She had to wait a moment, though, when she got back to the van, for her legs to steady. Luka Couffaine...she hadn’t seen him since he left to tour with Jagged Stone when they were kids. She bit her lip hard. Ugh, how could Luka even want to be her friend now after the way things had happened back then…she’d been so confused, and trying so hard to manage her life and her feelings, and she’d been failing so miserably. Luka had been so kind to her, and tried to help, and she hadn’t even kept in touch with him when he left. If anyone had genuine reason to call her a bad friend, it would definitely be Luka.

Marinette swallowed and took a deep breath and climbed up into the van. Focus, she told herself. Just focus on what you have to do.

She grabbed the closest box and hauled it out blindly. She risked a glance over as she walked by, and saw several young men and a woman, all with multicolored hair, carrying furniture from an even larger moving van into Luka’s place. Then she put her head down and went to her own door, determined.

Marinette did her best not to look towards Luka’s van again, telling herself it would only distract her, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted if she wanted to get this task done.

Everything went according to plan until she got to the wrought iron headboard of her new bed. She’d been able to lift it on her own before, but she realized now, as her arms trembled, that she should have placed this a little earlier in the unloading order. Well, she was going to have to make it work. She got it down the ramp of the van, and had to stand for a moment, bracing it as her muscles twitched and trembled, as she looked at the distance she had to cover to get to the door and thought of the stairs after that. She swore softly, and leaned her forehead against the frame as she tried to muster the strength.

A hand squeezed her shoulder. “We got it, just tell us where you want it,” Luka said, as Marinette looked up at him in surprise.

“Oh,” she said reflexively, “I can—”

“I know you can,” Luka grunted, grabbing one end of the headboard as one of his friends got the other. “But something like this is easier with two people.” He grinned. “Upstairs, I assume?”

“Y-yeah,” Marinette stammered weakly. “The bedroom. Um—” She ran back up in the van and grabbed the first pink-stickered box she came to. “This way,” she smiled at the boys, and went ahead of them, face burning.

“Dude, this is so much easier than all that heavy shit you brought,” Luka’s friend groaned, and Marinette giggled in spite of herself when Luka cheerfully told him to kiss his ass. The boys carried her headboard in and leaned it against the wall where Marinette directed.

“Thank you,” she told them sincerely, and Luka winked at her as he followed his friend out.

“Let us know if you need a hand with anything else,” he told her, and they were gone before Marinette had a chance to say anything else.

She ended up not having to ask him for help at all, because anytime she was struggling, either Luka or one or more of his friends would pop up to help her. Marinette was both touched by Luka’s concern and willingness to help, and angry at herself, for planning so poorly that she needed the help in the first place—no matter how much his friends joked that hauling her stuff was a nice break compared to hauling Luka’s.

Stupid, she scolded herself. Took on too much, as usual, and what would you have done if Luka hadn’t been around? Poor guy, he wasn’t expecting to have to haul extra stuff today, either. We’re back in touch for one day and he’s already having to bail me out. Just like old times. Nice to know I haven’t grown in the least in the last ten years. She kept working with grim determination, trying not to look like she needed more help, and getting angrier at herself every time one of them stopped to give her a hand.

Finally, she was done. She locked up the van and the apartment, and then went to stand once again in her shop front. There was still a lot to be done to it over the next two weeks before the big grand opening event, but now that the move-in was done, she could finally get started. Some of the fixtures she had negotiated with the leasing company, like the carpeted pedestal in one corner where she could do fittings and the full-length three-way mirrors. She’d created the countertop for her register herself, but the company had built the counter and installed her custom top on it for her. Marinette drifted over to it now and ran her fingertips over the resin surface with her monogram M and real pink flowers embedded in it. It turned out really well, she thought to herself, and smiled. That was one thing that went right, at least.

“Marinette?”

She jumped, but then remembered she hadn’t closed the back door yet. “I’m in here,” she called, and a moment Luka came through the door of the workroom, looking around. He grinned, seeing her stand behind the register. “Making yourself at home?” He moved around the front as if he were a customer, and Marinette giggled.

“Something like that,” she said with a shrug. “How goes the unloading?”

“I’m sweaty and filthy, but at least we’re done,” Luka grinned, leaning both elbows on Marinette’s handmade custom countertop. She resisted the urge to shove him off it. “How about you? Need anymore help with anything?”

Marinette shook her head quickly. “No, thank you. I’m done, and I feel disgusting.” She grinned weakly. “To be honest, there’s nothing I want less right now than coffee.”

“Agreed,” Luka chuckled. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, as long as it’s cold.” He winced slightly. “And cheap. This place kinda cleaned me out.”

“I hear you,” Marinette laughed, coming out from behind the counter. It felt too weird, having it between them. “I’m in the same boat. The only reason I could afford this at all is because my grandpa passed away and left all his things to me. Turned out there were a bunch of companies waiting for the old man to die so they could make a bid on his house. They’ve been trying to get the property for years but Grandpa wouldn't sell.” She folded her arms and leaned back on the counter next to him as Luka straightened to face her.

“I’m sorry about your Grandpa,” Luka said, putting his hand on her shoulder. The hand was bigger, but the gesture was the same, and Marinette felt a tender pang for the boy who had loved her. “I know your relationship with him was complicated.” Marinette nodded, but she didn’t really want to talk about it. Luka dropped his hand and gestured towards the door. “Listen, I still owe my friends Chinese and beer for helping me move—and before you say anything, I budgeted for that in my moving expenses.”

“You sound so responsible,” Marinette giggled, and he made a face at her before continuing.

“Why don’t you join us, if you feel up to it?” he suggested. “If not, that’s cool, I can bring you back something and we can catch up some other time when we’ve had a little more rest.”

Marinette hesitated a moment. She wasn’t sure she was up to meeting new people, and a shower would feel awfully good right now, but...they had helped her, and she felt like it would be rude to turn down their company. She bit her lip and glanced at Luka.

He smiled. “No pressure. If you just want to relax after all this, that’s okay. I can’t believe how much crap you moved out of that van all by yourself.” His brow creased for a moment, but he seemed to change his mind about saying anything else, and just waited.

So Luka. Marinette smiled suddenly. “Papa’s going to help me with the one or two really big things this weekend, and the rest I figured I could handle myself. I guess I overestimated myself a little bit. I really appreciated your help, though. I do want to relax, but…it has been ages since we could hang out. If you don’t think your friends will mind—a cold beer sounds awfully good right now…”

Luka snorted. “Since I’m buying, they’re not allowed to mind,” he said with a grin.

Feeling daring, Marinette linked her arm through Luka’s. “Tell you what. Since we’re both on the verge of broke right now, how about we each buy our own drinks, and I pay for my share of the food plus a little bit to cover you guys helping me out,” she suggested, “and the first one to hit the black owes the other dinner?”

“Deal,” Luka grinned, and warmth fluttered in Marinette’s stomach.

“So, um,” she said, looking away as they walked back out of the shop. “Music shop?”

Luka chuckled as they paused by the door so Marinette could lock up. “You’d think, but, ah...actually, it’s antiques and collectibles. And uh...curiosities.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not allowed to say junk, but you know Mom. Her taste is...weird.”

“Really?” Marinette looked back at him, shocked. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Mom’s been on her world tour, sending home crap from all over, and finally there didn’t seem anything else to do.” He gave her a sideways grin that told her there was probably more to the story than that, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. He offered her his arm again as she turned away from the door. “I talked to her about it and we went in on the shop together. She’s going to be my buyer and I’m going to run the business. A lot of what I’ve got is music related, though,” he admitted. “And I’ve maybe started a little collection of my own. I still love playing, but I like small audiences anyway, and well...if the shop does okay, then I’m hoping I’ll have a little more freedom to pick and choose my gigs without worrying about whether I’m going to eat that month.” He winced. “We’ll...see how that works out for me. Mom’s pretty gung ho, but...” He shrugged. “She never really was one for practicalities. I mean, I know I won’t starve if the place fails, she and...and Jagged would bail me out if I were really in trouble, but I really don’t want to have to fall back on that.” Marinette nodded sympathetically at the expression on his face. It seemed like he still had mixed feelings about Jagged, even after all this time, and Marinette could hardly blame him. “To be honest,” he went on, “this whole thing is kind of a gamble and I’m nervous about it, but it beats working for The Man, right?”

“Tell me about it,” Marinette sighed.

Luka put his hand over hers where it rested on his arm and she looked up at him. “Hey,” he said, in the same gentle way he used to when they were kids. “We got this. We’re gonna kick ass and be living in luxury.”

Marinette laughed. “I’d settle for being able to afford pizza.”

Luka groaned. “Please don’t mention pizza, I’m still traumatized.”

Marinette laughed again, and leaned into his arm, and he leaned back, chuckling along with her, and...it was like nothing had ever changed. Marinette felt her breath catch and a sudden lump in her throat, and Luka paused.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, looking down at her.

Marinette nodded quickly, blinking back the tears that wanted to come out. “Sorry, I—I’m just glad to see you again, that’s all.”

Luka smiled at her, and maybe it was just the heat but she thought he was blushing slightly. He took her hand off his arm and moved it down to his own hand, and threaded his fingers tightly through hers. “Likewise,” he said, squeezing, and Marinette smiled, squeezing back. She was selfishly glad to find he hadn’t changed too much, deep down. His hand dwarfed hers the same way it always had, but it gave her an odd little flutter now to look at her fingers between his. They stood for just a moment, and then Luka started walking again, tugging her along with him. He let go of her hand just before they reached the group of his friends standing around and put his hand on her back instead. “Hey, guys, this is Marinette. We’ve been friends for a long time and I haven’t seen her for ages, so she’s coming along with us.”

Marinette gave an awkward wave. “Thanks a bunch for the help,” she said, “I told Luka I’d help pick up the tab as thanks.“ They all grinned at her.

“Congrats, you’ve just won their undying loyalty,” Luka commented dryly. “Bunch of mercenaries.” He put just a little pressure against her back and gestured vaguely. “There’s a place a couple blocks over, we were just going to walk if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Marinette agreed, and the small group shuffled off. Luka let his hand fall once she started moving, but he stayed beside her, which she secretly appreciated, since the others were strangers. They seemed perfectly comfortable with each other, though, joking and shoving and teasing. Marinette found herself smiling as she watched them. This was what she was fighting so hard to protect, after all, even if it was something she couldn’t really have anymore.

Luka touched her arm lightly, and when she looked up at him, he raised his eyebrows at her slightly in silent inquiry. She smiled at him to let him know she was good. He relaxed a little, and turned back to the conversation.

There was some friendly chaos as everyone ordered their food and Luka and Marinette negotiated the split, but finally they all had their dinners and enough chairs to seat everyone. Marinette hadn’t realized how hungry she was until her food was in front of her.

“Ugh, I’m so hungry,” Luka moaned beside her, and there was a chorus of agreement that made her chuckle. The chatter didn’t exactly stop, but it slowed down considerably as they all applied themselves to their food.

Marinette focused on her plate and just let the talk flow around her, thoughts drifting again to all of the things she needed to do between now and the grand opening.

She only realized she had lost the thread of the conversation entirely when Evan’s words caught her attention again.

“I dunno, man, this neighborhood’s had bad juju since Ladybug and Chat Noir took down Hawkmoth,” he was saying, shaking his head slightly. “The whole area was levelled. Even though Ladybug fixed it, people don’t seem to stay and businesses don’t stay open. My sister said that’s why they shut everything down and redid all the buildings. One last-ditch effort at trying to revive the place. Turn it into artisan shops, make it attractive to tourists and hipsters.”

Luka shrugged. “I feel a lot better about my chances now that I know Marinette’s next door,” he said, nudging her with his elbow and grinning at her when she swatted him. “She’s got a great head for business and marketing. It can’t be a lost cause if she’s here.”

Marinette snorted. “Maybe it’s just all I could afford,” she said, making a face at him.

“The price was right, that’s for sure,” Luka admitted. “Either way, it can only benefit me to have you attracting traffic next door. Although maybe I’m assuming too much, are you still doing fashion?”

“Yes,” Marinette confirmed. “I graduated from ESMOD last year. I’ve...well, I decided the regular industry jobs aren’t for me, and that I’d be better off working somewhere where I could be the boss.” Also I can’t stay employed when I have to run off to akuma attacks constantly.

“I’m just surprised you picked this spot, that’s all,” Evan chuckled. “I thought sailors were superstitious.”

“We’re also cheap,” Luka snorted. “This was the best option I had that didn’t involve going to the old man, and—”

“And that woulda been fireworks,” Dingo laughed. “I almost wish you’d suggested it so I could’ve watched the Captain freak out about it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it would have been fun for you. ” Luka threw a peanut at him. “Since I’d be the one in the blast radius, I don’t think so.”

“Well, just so you know, I’m gonna laugh my ass off if Harvester levels this neighborhood the week after your grand opening,” Evan cut back in.

“Unlikely,” Marinette said without thinking, and everyone turned to look at her. She blinked, and then shrugged. “Hawkmoth caused damage on purpose, to lure out Ladybug and Chat Noir because he wanted their Miraculous. Harvester doesn’t seem to care about the Miraculous; she’ll take them if she can get them, but she’s just...I don’t know, greedy. She causes plenty of damage on a small scale, but she doesn’t usually destroy whole neighborhoods. There’s nothing where we are that’s worth her targeting, though. Besides, her targets tend to be in the wealthier areas of town.” She made a slightly sour face. It was bad enough that they hadn’t managed to recover the butterfly with Hawkmoth’s defeat. It was worse that it fell into the hands of someone as selfish and greedy as Harvester. She was barely more than a petty thief, and it was a burn to Ladybug’s pride that they hadn’t been able to catch her yet.

Trouble was, because Harvester lacked the kind of focus that Hawkmoth had had, she was less predictable, and more ruthless. There had been a certain rhythm to Hawkmoth’s attacks that Ladybug and Chat Noir had learned to work with over time to minimize damage. Harvester was much more random. She didn’t care what kind of damage she caused, she didn’t care if people got hurt—she just didn’t care, period. She wanted attention, and she wanted expensive things, and she didn’t care who suffered if she didn’t get her way.

Scratch that. She did care about one person’s suffering—Ladybug’s. She didn’t seem to care about their Miraculous, but she wanted Ladybug. Alive if possible, but she’d shown more than once that she wasn’t opposed to Ladybug very painfully dead, either.

Marinette shuddered.

Luka’s hand fell on her shoulder and she looked up at him, startled.

“You okay?” he asked softly, leaning in a little.

“Yeah, of course,” she lied automatically, with a bright, extremely fake smile. “Just tired.”

She’d forgotten how good Luka was at seeing lies. She could see in his face that he didn’t believe her, but he gave her a small smile that said it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, and turned back to the table.

Marinette took a breath and tried to tune back into the conversation as Dingo, Evan, and Marcie continued their good-natured ribbing over Luka’s new enterprise.

“So how do you two know each other again?” Marcie asked, and Marinette froze, her mouth full of noodles. She glanced up and saw Marcie watching her with slightly narrowed eyes.

“Marinette went to school with Juleka,” Luka replied easily. “We got to be friends right before I left with Jagged.” His tone was pleasant, but he cut his eyes up at Marcie in a sharp look that Marinette didn’t quite understand. Marcie clearly did, though, because she said something inane and changed the subject. Dingo and Evan exchanged a look, and then Evan looked down at his plate and Dingo looked at Marinette with a thoughtful expression—or at least she thought so, but it was hard to tell because he was still wearing his sunglasses.

She was having trouble getting that mouthful of noodles down with him looking at her like that.

“Ding,” Luka said mildly, without looking away from his own food, and Dingo huffed, shook his head, and went back to eating.

It still took effort to chew and swallow, and Marinette shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and began trying to think of a way to make her exit. Before she could, Luka put down his chopsticks and started closing the containers nearest to him. “Well,” he said, “I’m really grateful for the help today, guys. You guys can all consider one favor knocked off the big stack that every single one of you owes me.”

There was laughter and protests, and Luka raised his voice to be heard over them. “But I’m exhausted, and I still have to shower and get at least enough of my stuff unpacked that I have somewhere to sleep tonight, so I think I’m going to head back. Are you still eating, Marinette?”

“Oh, no, I’m good,” Marinette said hastily, recognizing the out as she began packing up her own containers. “Mind if I walk back with you?”

“Sure,” Luka smiled.

“Hey Lu,” Dingo called after them, and Luka looked back as he opened the door and held it for Marinette. “Don’t be a dumbass, man.”

Luka just flipped Dingo off with his free hand and followed Marinette out of the door.

“They know, huh?” Marinette muttered as the door fell shut behind them, and Luka sighed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Not the details, but...enough. I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable.”

Marinette shrugged. “Not like I don’t deserve it.”

Luka put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed in a light half hug, turning her in the right direction as they started walking. “I forgave you a long time ago, for what it’s worth. We were just dumb kids. Not to say the feelings weren’t real, but let’s just say we hadn’t exactly reached the age of sober judgement yet and leave it at that, okay?”

Marinette shook her head. “I still feel like I...owe you an apology for all that. I wasn’t very considerate of your feelings. If...if it hadn’t been for Adrien…” Marinette began, and trailed off as Luka’s arm tightened around her. “It’s just,” Marinette tried to control her breathing, and blinked quickly to keep the tears back. “I tried so hard to keep everything together, and it all kind of fell apart anyway, and looking back, I just...wish I’d made some different choices about my priorities. About which people I put my energy into. I’m just...I’m sorry I didn’t choose you, Luka. I’m...sorry I didn’t stay in touch after you left.”

Luka blew out a slow breath. “It was a crazy time for both of us. That year with Jagged, it was...it was a lot. I’m honestly not sure I’d have been able to keep up my end, so. Don’t worry about it.”

“You...still don’t get along with Jagged too well?” Marinette ventured.

Luka rolled his eyes. “Having one parent constantly acting like a child was more than enough, I really didn’t need a second parent to take care of.” He winced. “Sorry, that came out a lot more bitter than I meant. It’s not like I expected him to act like a dad, but…” Luka shook his head. “Anyway, a year of that lifestyle was enough. I finally told him I was going home. I’m not interested in anything he can give me. Maybe it would have been different, if I’d done it on my own, but...there is no on my own anymore. I can’t make it in that industry without being attached to him, and I just...don’t want that.” He gave her a rueful grin. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” Marinette said, reaching up and curling her hand around his where it rested on her shoulder. “No, not all.”

He smiled at her, and she dropped her hand. They walked in silence the rest of the way.

“Well, home sweet home,” Luka said, letting his arm fall as they walked up the steps to the balcony that ran along the back of the buildings, providing outdoor access to their apartments. “This gonna be weird,” he admitted, as they paused in front of his door. “I’ve never lived alone before.”

“Me neither,” Marinette admitted with a nervous giggle.

Luka smiled at her. “Well, if you ever need anything, or you just want to talk or hangout or whatever.” He nodded to his door. “You know where to find me.”

“That’s a dangerous promise,” Marinette tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure it worked. “You did so much for me before, and never got anything back for it. I feel like I took advantage of you.”

“You didn’t,” Luka replied immediately, like she should have known he would. “Marinette, even if that were true, and I really don’t think it is...I never did any of that for...payback, or something. I wasn’t expecting anything out of you. I just wanted you to be happy.”

Marinette couldn’t think of anything to say to that. It was true that everything he’d done for her, he’d done voluntarily, and that she had done some things for him, although they were more really for Kitty Section as a whole, but...it didn’t change the way she felt. She’d failed Luka, just like she failed everyone that cared about her.

She jolted slightly when she felt his hand on her shoulder again. Luka let go quickly, his hand hovering there as he looked over her face. She started to open her mouth to apologize, but Luka let his hand drop. “I’ll see you soon, neighbor,” was all he said, and then he turned to unlock his own door. He gave her a smile over his shoulder, and though it looked different on his adult face, it was the same smile he used to give her, the one that said he had faith in her, no matter whether she had any in herself at the moment.

Then his door closed with a quiet click, and she was standing there alone.

“Marinette,” Tikki whispered after a moment, reaching out of Marinette’s purse to touch her hand.

Marinette jumped slightly, and then turned to her own door, fumbling her keys out. She unlocked it and went inside.

“Marinette?” Tikki zipped out of her purse to float at eye level, her expression sympathetic and concerned.

Marinette gave her a weak smile. “I can’t decide if I’m glad he’s there, or if I’m upset about it. He’s always been so observant. What if…” She trailed off, and folded her arms uncomfortably.

Tikki tilted her head slightly. “Is that really what you’re worried about?”

Marinette bit her lip. “Not really,” she admitted. “It’s just…” She folded her arms and chewed her lip, trying to find a way to articulate her feelings. “Luka’s easy to depend on,” she said softly. “Having him right there...I’m not sure it’s good for me. I’m afraid I’ll...I don’t know. Be tempted to lean on him more than I should, and end up hurting him all over again. Not that—not that he feels the same as he did back then, but Luka’s still Luka, he just...he’s a helper, and I’ll end up asking too much and he’ll resent me and he’ll end up selling his shop just to get away from me and—”

“Marinette!” Tikki waved her arms to catch her attention. “Okay, I get it. But Luka does live next door and there’s nothing either of you can do about that now. So what can we do?”

Marinette sighed. “I just have to be careful,” she decided. “I have to make sure I don’t ask him for too much. For...for some things, maybe, because Luka’s discreet and he doesn’t ask questions so there might be times when I can ask him to cover for me and stuff...but not too much. Only when I really need it.”

“Okay.” Tikki flew in close and laid a paw on Marinette’s cheek. “That sounds like a good plan. We just take one day at a time, right?”

“One day at a time,” Marinette agreed, and then smiled. “And we still have to get this apartment fit to live in, so let’s let the others out and get started making this place into home. We can do the groceries tomorrow.” Dinner with Luka had not been in her schedule, after all, but...this once, she didn’t mind.

“That’s the spirit!” Tikki cheered, and followed Marinette towards the bedroom.

It was weird, that first night, with the smell of fresh paint and cardboard, and all the noises from outside that were so different than the ones she was used to. It was hard to go to sleep, especially when there was so much to do, but the kwamis finally bullied her to bed, and their presence tucked in all around her gave her enough comfort to doze off. The same weirdness woke her early in the morning, and she wandered around her apartment like a zombie in her striped pajama pants and tank as she waited for her coffee to be ready.

She was halfway through her second mug, still staring blankly at the pile of boxes and making absent noises of agreement now and then at the chattering kwami perched around her, when a knock on her door made her jump and sent the kwamis scattering for cover.

Frowning, Marinette padded to the door in her bare feet, coffee cup in hand, and stood on her toes to peek out of the slightly-too-high peephole.

“Luka?” she said in surprise, and opened the door.

“Hey,” he smiled at her. “I was going to do a grocery run, and I saw you didn’t have a car, so...I thought maybe you’d like a ride with me?” He held up a motorcycle helmet. “Not exactly the same as my old bike,” he grinned, “But if memory serves, you can handle it.”

Marinette burst into giggles. “I can handle anything you can handle,” she said when she could control herself, folding her arms and cocking a hip.

Luka’s smile warmed, and he winked at her. “Finish your coffee and meet me downstairs in ten.”

It took most of that time for her to dig out her riding gear; she hadn’t expected to need it anytime soon, so it wasn’t particularly accessible, but thanks to her overly detailed box organization system, augmented by a little kwami assistance, she found the right box and got it open, pulling out her black padded jacket with pink panels on the sides, and her carefully-packed black and pink helmet with her flowers stenciled on the side. A little more digging found black motorcycle boots with pink hardware up the side to hold the lacing. She put it all on over a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and hurried for the door.

“Wait!” Kaalki cried, bursting out of another box, towing something sparkly. “Don’t forget these! You haven’t seen him in years, so you simply must look fabulous !”

Marinette giggled and took the glasses Kaalki held out to her. “Thanks, Kaalki.”

“They’re not as good as mine,” Kaalki huffed, fluffing her mane. “But they’ll do.”

Luka did a double-take when he saw her, his eyebrows practically flying off his forehead they shot up so fast. Marinette giggled at his reaction. “Grandma,” she shrugged with a grin, and slid the chrome riding glasses with pink lenses and rhinestones lining the frame. Luka burst out laughing.

“You look amazing,” he said, trying to stifle the laugh.

“Thank you,” Marinette sniffed. “She decked me out so she could take me on a road trip for my eighteenth birthday.”

“Nice,” Luka grinned, zipping up his own padded jacket and swinging one leg over the bike. “I want to hear all about it later.” He jerked his head. “Come on, hop aboard. I hope your list isn’t too long, we can’t carry too much on this thing, but we should be able to get the essentials.”

Marinette didn’t bother answering, putting on her helmet instead and then climbing aboard behind Luka. Her list had been long, but she could live without most of it for a few days. This might actually work out better, giving her a chance to get the essentials so she’d have less to carry when she went back for the rest.

Luka showed her where to put her feet, and grinned back at her before he strapped on his own helmet. “Just like old times.”

“Not quite like old times,” she giggled, putting her hands on his waist. “I’m really glad to have you back though,” she said quietly, not sure whether she wanted him to hear her or not.

He must have heard though, because Luka put one gloved hand over hers for just a moment, and then started the bike. “Tap my shoulder twice if you need me to stop,” he called back as he backed them out of the space. He blew out a breath, and then flipped down his helmet’s visor and took off.

It had been a while since she’d been on a motorcycle, so she tried to concentrate on moving with him as they rode. She was rewarded by a smile when they dismounted the bike and Luka pulled his helmet off. “Your grandma’s a good teacher,” he said. “You’re easy to ride with.”

“Thanks,” Marinette smiled, letting him stow her gear with his. “Don’t buy any bread,” she warned him as they walked into the store. “My parents are going to be by sometime today or tomorrow I’m sure, and as soon as they hear you’re my neighbor I know they’ll bring extra.”

“I’m not going to say no to that,” Luka chuckled. “Anything your dad makes is going to be way better than anything they’ll have here.” They shared a smile, and a slightly awkward silence fell between them as they each picked up baskets and started walking through the store. Marinette wondered if she should go off on her own, but the store wasn’t that big and she’d probably keep bumping into him and then that would be weird and she couldn’t just ditch him—

“How are your folks doing these days?” Luka asked, picking up a box off the shelf.

“O-oh, they’re...they’re good. Well. I mean, pretty much the same as always, you know?” she said, flustered.

“How are they handling you moving out?” he asked, smiling as he put the box in his basket and then stuck his hand in his pocket as they strolled forward.

Marinette let her head drop back and gave a sigh of longsuffering. “They’re...doing their best,” she giggled. “They’re very enthusiastic, but…”

“Holding a lot back?” Luka smiled.

“Not very successfully,” Marinette giggled. “What about you, how’s your family doing? How’s J-Juleka?” she asked, and tensed when Luka gave her a sideways glance.

“Pretty good,” he said, selecting a box from the shelf to put in his basket. “I haven’t told her yet that I ran into you.” He glanced at her again. “You want me to, or should I not? I know you girls lost touch a while ago.”

Marinette shrugged without looking at him, blushing faintly. “I don’t mind. We didn’t have a falling out or anything, just you know...time, and stuff. She probably doesn’t want to hear from me, maybe you should just not mention it.”

Luka smiled, eyes on the shelf as they strolled. “I don’t know. Juleka and me, we were always taught that people have to live their lives, you know? You appreciate them while you have them, and you let them go when your paths drift apart. You were always going places, Marinette, everybody knew that. I don’t think Juleka will hold it against you.” His smile broadened, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “She’s been doing some dream chasing of her own, after all.”

“Really?” Marinette said, taking the phone when he handed it to her. She looked at the image and her mouth dropped open. “Oh my gosh, she really did it? She’s a model?”

“Cosmetics mostly so far,” Luka told her with a smile. “She’s trying to get into clothing and runway but she’s done really well with the cosmetics companies. Her eyes are so amazing and her skin’s always been flawless.”

“She looks beautiful,” Marinette sighed, handing the phone back. “Is she happy?”

“She seems to be.” Luka pocketed the phone, and went back to shopping, giving a pointed look at Marinette’s empty basket. She hurriedly turned to the shelves too, trying to make herself focus on her list. “Anyway, she’s had to let a few things go in the process, so I think she’d understand. She did have to get a new number a while back, but I can give her yours if you want me to.”

“Well…” Marinette still felt a flutter of nerves, but she pushed it down. “Sure.” She smiled weakly. “You always make everything so easy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Luka chuckled.

“It is,” Marinette smiled.

“It’s the same for me, you know,” Luka said, and Marinette blinked at him in confusion. “About the friends coming and going, I mean. It’s just a part of life, Marinette. It’s not something you should be embarrassed or ashamed about. It’s just the way things are.” He gave her a kind smile. “There were a lot of friends I left behind that year with Jagged. I wasn’t kidding about how busy I was.”

Marinette smiled, though she kept her focus on the shelves. “You’re still friends with Dingo.”

“Don’t remind me,” Luka chuckled. “I can’t get rid of him. There’s some people, you know, where no matter how long you go without talking. With Dingo, no matter how much time passes, it’s like we last talked yesterday. Besides, he knows all my secrets. I can’t afford to cut him loose.”

Marinette sighed. “That must be nice though. Having someone who knows you that well.”

“Sometimes,” Luka agreed. “Though mostly he just uses it to make my life hell. Thank God he’s still chasing Brielle or I’d never get rid of him. He has to pretend to be an adult at least half the time to convince her he’s still worth wasting her time on.”

“Wow, they’re still together?” Marinette giggled. “That’s impressive.”

“They are, they aren’t, they are again. It’s…” Luka shook his head. “Not my idea of the ideal relationship, but it works for them—well, most of the time—so…” he shrugged. “I’m chronically single, though, so who am I to judge.”

“Really?” Marinette finally looked up at him. “Why? I mean—” she turned red and spluttered, and Luka had to dodge her flying grocery basket as she tried to frantically erase the question with her flailing hands. “Ooooh, I’m sorry, that was so nosy.”

“It’s okay,” Luka laughed. “Relax, Marinette. What about you? Anyone special in your life?”

Marinette’s face heated, but she figured Luka was the last person on earth likely to judge her relationship history. “Me? Oh, no. I had a few flings in high school and uni, but…” she shrugged. “They never lasted long. I’m...not very good at casual, but I don’t have a lot of time to give a relationship. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried it all tended to fall apart sooner rather than later. Eventually, I just stopped trying.”

“Timing,” Luka sighed sympathetically, shaking his head, “Timing is a bitch, no doubt.”

Marinette hunched her shoulders a little. “You can say that again.”

Luka touched her arm gently, and they finished the rest of their shopping with lighter small talk, mostly about all the crazy shenanigans Anarka was up to now that she was free and unfettered with both of her children out of the house.

It took some ingenuity to get their purchases loaded on the bike, and Marinette had a few things precariously wedged between herself and Luka, but they made it home without losing anything, and that was what mattered.

Luka stopped at his door, while Marinette kept walking to hers. She was still trying to get her keys out of her pocket when Luka got his door open.

“Marinette,” he said, and she looked at him in surprise. “If you need anything, let me know, okay?”

“Oh...um, sure,” Marinette said as brightly as she could, remembering her vow the night before not to ask him for anything more than necessary.

“I mean it.” Luka held her gaze for a moment and grinned. “Because I have like a million favors I’d like to ask, and I need to start stockpiling on my end. I could use some help with branding and advertising, for starters.”

Marinette blinked, and then laughed, and she saw his shoulders relax a bit.

“You can just ask, you know,” she told him, and Luka shook his head.

“Nope. Fair’s fair. Every artist deserves payment for their work, I just don’t have the cash handy for it. So if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. It’ll be a down payment on designing my new signage.” He grinned at her one more time, and then opened his door and was gone.

That was...so Luka, she thought affectionately, coming up with a way to put the offer of his help out there in a way she couldn’t refuse. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be mad at him for daring to see through her so easily.

Well. She definitely didn’t want a repeat of last time, where she was constantly taking from him and giving nothing in return. But surely, an equal trade would be okay? She could do that without making it weird.

She opened her door and stepped inside, and was immediately swarmed by kwami hoping for a snack. “Only one each!” she scolded them all, making her way to the kitchen. “We’re never going to make this work if you’re constantly eating me out of house and home.”

“Did you enjoy your trip?” Sass asked her, and she met his knowing smile.

“Yes, I did,” she said, lifting a finger to poke him in the belly. “It’s good to see him again.” She smiled. “He’s doing well, Sass.”

Sass chuckled, still giving her that same look. “That isss good to hear.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at him.

“Are we ssstill painting the shop tomorrow?” Sass asked innocently.

“Yes,” Marinette said firmly. “We have a lot of work to do before the grand opening.”

Fiction Master Post | LBSC 2021 Exchange Collection

#quickspins #guard my heart #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #lbsc 2021 exchange #rated: m

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dumblemonchickenwing · 3 years ago

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response to @sageoftheuniverse in relation to their post that was the reponse to my post regarding Toffee

Even though I never intended to go in the “Toffee is incapable of feeling at all” and my intention was never to imply that him being a villain was Because of him being “built different”, I suppose I can actually see the point in your reponse to that post.

My point in that post was not that Toffee was evil and never knew love Because he “is not capable of it” or “less capable” of it, I gravitated more towards his way of life than his nature or brain structure. I highlighed more the fact that his way of living built his cold attitude, and him living longer further amplified it, because he had to fight wars for way longer times than most others which I think would harden him even more. I may have articulated myself poorly and used wrong words, and if I did, I apologize.

1. A deliberately heartless villain who defined himself by his emotionlessness wouldn’t use kindness as a weapon to recruit Ludo’s monsters.

It may be just a nitpick to your nitpick, but it is actually possible to mask kindness in order to get other to do what one wants, its a sort of manipulation thing, and in order to do that one doesnt have to feel kindness. Tbh I actually more agree with You on this one, because it geniunely seemed that Toffee looked out for Ludo’s monsters more than Ludo did.

2. Someone like you described wouldn’t walk away from his enemies after they were defeated, he’d just kill them.

It really depends. Some may kill Because of emotion. Toffee being cold toward Moon and Co. didnt mean he would 100% kill them. He got what he came for, he didnt want to waste any more of his time.

I didnt write responses to your 3rd and 4rth parts because I felt no need in commenting on it for I saw nothing to object to.

I really dislike bringing up my personal issues and stuff for an argument, and I won’t; I will just sorta partly do that by confessing that I wrote that post about Toffee while partly self projecting onto him. kind of the similar reason you came forward to defend him and debunk my post, actually... In other words, I didnt write the post about Toffee from the point of view of someone who doesnt know what its like to be autistic and alienated. not all individuals can emotionally connect to others, and some may Actually struggle a lot to feel feelings, such as love due to the way they have been developed.

I do not know what Watsonian and Doylist analysis techniques are...

Although I do agree my post was kind of lacking in terms of characterization. For example: I didnt bring up Toffee’s arrogance, I forgot the parts where he subtly showed his negative emotions like anger in mewnipendence day, how he actually felt some sort of excitement when he fought Moon. Those were emotions, even though not positive emotions but emotions nonetheless, and I kind of forgot about it.

All those things about Star obliterating him and other things, Solaria getting redemption, rubbed me the wrong way too. And I noticed that mewmans get their story arcs and the show follows Their stories and monsters’ stories get kind of omitted (including Toffee) too. Even though I was thinking about how it is unfair and that there porbably was needed more backstory on Toffee, I still think that his redemption arc would not happen, for few reasons i can think of:

1) Toffee would not be willing to change his ways because he would pursue violent ways and see it as the only way

2) Even if he would want to change it would have to take a long time, and it would not fit the show’s time scale (time period?).

I do believe you probably have a way better understanding on the show’s flaws and in writing than I, because I am no analyst and i am not a write; I cannot articulate myself correctly for cognitive reasons

Also I wanted to share my opinion on redemption discourse about Toffee. Usually ppl when saying that Toffee cant get redemption, they bring up reasons such as “he killed Moons mother’ and that he almost killed Star and that he has killed many, manipulated Ludo. But to my mind, those reasons dont sound plausible in the context of the show, because the chaarcters who had killed people in past, have been redeemed: Globgor, Eclipsa, Solaria, maybe even Meteora (she hasnt killed anyone but she did suck their souls out).

Maybe Toffee could get redeemed, if he wanted to change. I kind of wish the show played around with that concept, and shed more light on Solaria and Globgor’s past to create parallel to Toffee’s arc. But, Toffee is dead so... i guess it does not matter no more..

I take back what i said about Toffee being emotionless and I admit my post was flawed (I was not taking my analysis that much seriously to tell the truth, I was just speculating), but I still think that canonically Toffee is an unkind individual. It has nothing to do with him being a monster I think. Buffrog is a monster and he is kind and loving, Ludo is loving toward his brother, Rasticore is a Septarian and he is not resentful and is pretty nice. Toffee is cold and hardened because of his way of living and his resentment that he kept inside instead of letting go, and not really bc of him being a monster. The show was..flawed, but I dont think they demonized Toffee Because he was a monster. He was a monster who happened to be an unkind individual. But.. he deserved to have some more info about him been revealed in the show which never happened sadly.

Thank you very much for responding to my weird analysis with politeness and a constructive critisim, you are very kind and undersatnding. You didn’t lash out or threaten me and approached it without hate, it was very thoughtful and nice of you and I am grateful for it

#sageoftheuniverse #text #comment #reply #also a lot of plot point is in magic book of spells which i have no access to so i am kind of clueless on many things #althought ive watched some videos covering its contents #also im sorry if i was offensive you can correct me

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wkemeup · 3 years ago

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Hey Kas. So I’m going to college in the fall and I don’t know what I want to do with my life but I really love writing and English in general, and I want to do something (anything) with that. I think you may have mentioned it before but correct me if I’m wrong—you were a psych major? So I suppose you can relate to people doubting what you’re pursuing and all that :P I was just wondering if you have any advice for figuring out what to do and if a college major really has that much influence on whether you’re ‘successful’ or not in life. Sorry if this is too personal to delve into, you don’t have to answer ofc. I don’t mean to treat you like a counselor or something, bc you’re a person too! You just seem really put together and wise haha, which is why I’m asking you.

My family, save for my dad, keeps telling me English is a shitty major to waste a college education on. But goddamn it if I don’t want to try and become a publisher or editor or something similar and write on the side (the dream!!) and prove them wrong. I don’t want to take the safe, listless route like they all did. I’m scared to fail but I’m also scared to regret

This is going to be a long answer so I'm going to add a read more cut lol

Thats sweet you think of me as put together and wise because most of the time I feel pretty unstable in my own life haha. But yes, you're right - I was a psych major and did social work in my masters. I was constantly being told you can't do anything with a psych degree and warned about how social work makes shitty money - but I did it anyway because I was passionate about it. I'll be real with you- they were right about the pay and it can be super emotionally draining, so at times I do really wish I'd done something different. But that's also the nature of this field. It has super high burn out. But I'm also in my first 'real job' since I graduated so that doesnt mean finding a different job won't make things easier for me emotionally or look more like what I had imagined when I went into this degree. A lot of that stuff has to do with the specific job you're in, not so much your degree. You can often use a certain degree in a lot of different types of jobs, even within the same field!

But it's so impossible to ask an 18 year old to decide what they want to do for the rest of their life. Its a ridiculous burden to put on a kid. When you ask about whether your major determines your success - I think that would depend on your definition of success?

Is success doing something you're proud of and passionate about? Is it making a lot of money and having nice things? Is it being able to work 9-5 consistently without overtime and long hours? Is it helping people? Is success more than just your job? Success can be defined by your relationships in life and how happy you are. Your job doesn't have to be the defining variable for what makes you successful.

I think if you went into an English major with no real idea of what you wanted to do with it, I'd tell you to put some thought into that - but also you have four years to figure it out. But! You sound like you have real ideas about what you want to do with the degree and those are legitimate, real jobs! You're clearly passionate about it and it means a lot to you, so screw the rest of your fams opinions! Everyone is scared of failure, but if it means enough to you, you'll keep at it. A lot of time after your graduate, your first job isn't your dream job. You have to work your way up and gain experience first. This clearly means something to you, so you should go for it!

I'm not sure if that was helpful at all, but the bottom line is that this is your life - not the lives of your family members telling you not to pursue this. You need to be the one thats happy with what you're doing in life. If going into publishing and editing is what makes you happy - DO IT 🙌🏼🥰

#inbox

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weaselle · 4 years ago

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Sims 4 Build

OK. So. I started a new play through a while back and I wanted my sims to go out to eat and if you aren’t familiar with the Sims there are only bar/lounges and of course that ridiculous place in the faux Hollywood world. So I went to the Gallery and downloaded a couple of restaurants and...

Because I have worked for 25 years in the F&B service industry, I immediately became salty about a number of things.

And that’s why I built this restaurant, full of all the things people leave out of their restaurant builds.

See, it’s not a house. Stop building house shaped restaurants. And, nobody includes parking lots, but since I did, I made sure the handicap spots are the two closest to an entrance and have a loading zone adjacent.

I’m detail oriented in my sims builds.

If you’ve worked in restaurants, you’ll identify with all the commonalities I’ve found missing in most gallery builds that I’ve applied to this restaurant, even if you don’t play Sims.

If you haven’t worked in restaurants but you do build them in Sims 4, you could view this as a tutorial

FOH - The Floor

First of all, idk what people are looking at when they go out to eat, but evidently it isn’t the seating arrangements -- I kept finding restaurant after restaurant that seemed to have no ideal how to set up a dining area with tables. Like, the tables would be so crammed together the sims couldn’t actually walk between them, or they’d have a white cloth establishment with almost all 6 and/or 8 tops (a six-top is a table with six chairs) and almost no 2 or 4 tops; sometimes there would be like, mostly 10 or 12 tops!

Or they’d put chairs on every side of every table even though this makes everything cramped, or they’d jigsaw a bunch of different table sizes into a giant crowded square filling most of the restaurant. But mostly I saw people... doing all of these things at once they were all just doing all of this all the time omg.

(Though I did see a couple builds where they had a huuge restaurant and then like, five small tables) Nobody seemed to know how many people a space should comfortably seat, or how many tables/seats a restaurant might need, or how to set them up

look

some things to notice:

This seats 46. That’s good. When we move into the bar the bar tables and seating at the bar are going to bring it up to 63. Depending on your restaurant you’ll usually have between 40 and 80 seats, so I’m hitting my target perfectly.

more than half the tables are 2 tops, but more than half the chairs are at larger tables; this isn’t like, a rule, but does mean there is probably close to the right mix of table sizes, especially for a white table cloth kinda place. There are only two “large” tables, which is about right.

The layout is easy to comprehend and section out. This floor easily lends itself to a two-server or four-server shift, and three servers isn’t hard to figure out. Like, I know exactly which tables each server would have as a four-server shift transitioned down to the closer over the evening.

It’s nearly symmetrical but not quite 100% which is what you usually see in a restaurant.

The lights are not placed randomly. You might think this doesn’t need to be pointed out. You’d be surprised.

There is plenty of room to move between the tables and have guests feel like they have their own area, with like, lanes to walk down, but there is no wasted space. It’s very full, but not at all crowded.

There’s a defined entrance, with a waiting area. The game tells you that you have to include this host station

which, yeah, some places just have a simple podium, but I built it out to help define the entrance, which has a menu stand and some seating for a wait list and the host stand has clutter like extra table tent menus and a condiment caddy.

Similarly, the game says you need this server station

but I turned it into this

Now THAT’s a server station, with a drinks fridge, extra menus, plates, condiment shelves, and a coffee pot, which is orange for decaf because theres a regular coffee station that includes an espresso machine behind the bar. See?

Lastly, you can’t really tell from the pics so far, but the dining room and bar seating is only about half of the total space in the building, which is about right.

Here’s the bar tops

and the bar, which has a pass window right to the kitchen line, under the TV (don’t worry, there’s a proper pass for the servers and an expeditor through that door to the right)

But once I addressed these issues with the Front of House, I realized: there is so much more missing from most restaurants on the gallery.

Like the back office.

BOH - Office

I didn’t find a single restaurant on the gallery that included one, but just about every restaurant has a shitty little back office crammed into what should be, like, a small closet. They all tend to look a little something like this

I had to hunt through debug for most of this clutter - it’s hard to tell in this pic, but that’s a couple stacks of money just sitting out on the desk to the right of the computer. That’s, shall we say, not super unusual to see in one of these crappy little paperwork prisons. And of course the mess of files and mail and shit.

You know what else every restaurant has but I never saw in any on the gallery?

Dish Pit

The game is not set up to allow you to make a proper dish pit. Like, there isn’t an industrial dishwasher or anything. Bu tI made one anyway. From the floor sinks, to the dish racks, to the horrible, heavy-ass red rubber mat that’s such a pain to clean at the end of the shift, I think you’ll recognize this room right away

I really had to fiddle to get this one -- those dish racks? they’re actually overlapped home counter racks that look like this

they were super hard to line up right. The “floor sinks” are actually a drain that’s supposed to go on the bottom of a pool, the dishwasher is actually three floor models raised to the right hight and overlapped facing different directions, and I added the little drain panels on either side by shrinking and raising floor vents to the height of the counters, which are actually overlapping tables. The floor I lucked out on, the Sims 4 has a tile floor pattern that comes in both grungy and clean, so I placed the clean ones on the outside edge of the dish pit floor in half-tiles along an irregular pattern with the edges matched to the lines of grout and added a couple of my own floor smudges so there wouldn’t be a straight line of dirty versus clean tile. Then I put some water stains over the whole thing to mask it better, overlapping some of the water stains to create the illusion of a flow of water going down the floor drain.

Speaking of the dish pit, most restaurants have this cousin to the dish pit, that I don’t know what to call except maybe a

Mop Closet

The Sims doesn’t have one of the yellow industrial mop buckets with the squeezy thing attachment, but I did pretty good here. Wish I could have erased the shower head, but I for sure needed the wall spigot handles and the hose. Managed to size up a bucket with water to the right dimensions and trick the game into letting me stick in a mop that’s supposed to hang on a wall. Added some cleaning supplies and stuff to the shelves.

Speaking of shelves, nobody ever includes dry storage when they do a Sims 4 restaurant. You know, with the empty beer kegs and those metal rack shelves full of, like, rows of little bottles and the restock items like six packs of soda and sacks of dry ingredients and way up on the top is the shit that never ever gets used but somehow you have to get up there every other week anyway?

See that door, the one with a light over it and a light next to it and a little temperature gauge? Yeah, you know what else I never see in gallery restaurants builds?

Walk In

this was a pain, not only did I have to meticulously place every bottle on top of that fridge unit, but those kegs are actually tiny soda cans with no labels that I had to pull out of the vast un-tagged and un organized debug menu. I don’t even think they got placed by the devs anywhere in game, I think they are some kind of frame that gets a label/skin before it gets placed, usually. And see that fan up top in the middle of the wall? That’s actually two separate pieces of nonsense -- like, the center part isn’t a fan at all, its a stone wall decoration. But the design looks like a fan, so I shrank it and shoved it most of the way back into the wall til it was nearly flat and found that other thing that had a circle the right size in the middle. and viola. Oh, and it and those other vents next to it don’t just go to nothing, oh no, they match up perfectly on the outside to these

Okay, now, everybody building restaurants in the Sims DOES include a

Kitchen

And they often do a fine job, so I’m not going to spend much time here, but they do tend to skimp on prep space

(hey, see those shelves on the top right? Those are shelves full of dishes. I never see shelves full of dishes in gallery restaurant builds, but like, you need a bunch of shelves full of dishes. And off in the corner to the far left of the top wall? Prep sink tucked away back there.)

Dude, let me just say... that prep counter?I placed every vegetable on that counter individually, AND I had to trick the game into letting me put more than the like, three items each counter space usually has slots for. What a pain. Worth it tho. It’s hard to tell, but there’s a knife next to the cutting board.

And lastly, no restaurant would be complete without

“out back”

okay this post is long enough, but I just want to point out the stack of empty pallets, the discolored liquid and debris under the dumpsters along with a rat trap, and a little smoke break area with shitty chairs and a garbage table with some kind of bowl or something being used as an ashtray.

There’s more to this restaurant, employee lockers, bathrooms, etc, but this post is long enough, and I covered the most important stuff.

In conclusion, I’m getting pretty good at sims builds, and other builders should ask me for tips on restaurant builds or read this post, because I swear none of them have ever worked in food service

#sims #sims 4 #restaurants #sims build #sims 4 build #there's a huge wildfire about ten miles from me and headed this way #so guess how I'm staying distracted #when i say ten miles away i mean the fire is 48 square miles in size and one edge of it is maybe 15 miles from me #and it's burning another square mile every two minutes #so i've got my bounce bag packed and now i am Thinking About Other Things #i should be fine - there was a somewhat smaller but still pretty big fire between me and this fire last month so theres a decent fire break

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