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formalpeacaps · 10 months ago

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2/14/24 Recap Part One

Good morning, my beautiful, wonderful chickadees, I’m back! We’re all back! We’ve missed some things, haven’t we? Unfortunately all my old recaps are gone, but don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson and now am writing all of them in Google Docs, which means that Paige can delete the entire sub, she can delete videos I’m writing about, but I will always, always have receipts, and I will continue to pop up, like a very persistent little fungus.

Anyway, I refuse to recap Paige being incoherent in the Bahamas as a birthday gift to her, and as soon as I finished this of course Paige posted another vlog, but let’s start with last week’s vlog and work our way into this week’s, shall we?

A “florida for the winter” vlog

I don’t know “why” this title “needed” “quotations”

Nine seconds in, and 1.75 fonts. It’s all one font technically, but she changes the color and if it’s italic or not three times.

Paige is hosting dinner. Paige is wearing all black in Florida because she’s “a cold person”. I think what she means is that she’s always freezing due to a lack of body fat, but I would accept that she’s also kind of cold emotionally speaking. That seems like an accurate statement as well.

Paige complains about getting a blowout because she “never feels like herself” when she gets her hair done like that, which begs the question why she pays money to get her hair done like that. Also I find it funny that as Paige says, “when my hair looks good it just doesn’t feel right”

We’ve seen your $20 Amazon extensions, Paige, we know.

Paige makes sure to let us all know she’s sending PR slippers from Rao’s tomato sauce, because heaven forbid we don’t know she gets free things in the mail as a very important influencer.

Paige makes dinner for Tommy’s - sorry, their friends. (You can tell it’s actually Tommy’s friends because it’s all guys, they refuse to acknowledge Paige or her camera, and several of them aren’t white.) Dinner is the world’s most basic cheese board, spicy rigatoni, grilled meats, and a salad, because our girl is a one trick pony. Oh, and her single dessert (banana pudding) afterwards.

The dressing recipe takes us up to 2.75 fonts and it’s just multiple types of mustard and multiple types of vinegar.

We also get to see a new DB glassware sample and it looks so weird? It’s shaped like an upside down coke bottle, but it has mason jar threading? This makes no sense

Look, okay, hi. I’ve looked into Paige’s demographic and I know that she could release a literal dog turd but put a white hydrangea next to it and her 2,000 die-hard sorority girl fan squad would buy it and they don’t care. I understand that none of these girls whose frontal lobes have not fully developed grew up watching Antiques Roadshow with their mom. But I did and I am bothered because glassware is made into certain shapes for REASONS, design elements like threading for a lid exist for REASONS, also I can tell just by the weight and clarity of it that glass is probably mostly plastic and it would feel wrong if you clicked your nails against it. Again, I understand, I’m not the target demographic. I know no one else cares, this is a nitpick, blah blah blah. But between you and me, as someone who gets very into nerdy minutiae about material design and history, I’m bothered. Had to just throw that out there.

IT HAS LIKE A RUBBERIZED LID WITH A PLASTIC STRAW IN IT BUT THEN WHY DOES IT HAVE THE THREADING THAT LOOKS SO WEIRD AAAAAAAAAAAAH

If you’re also weird about this stuff you can DM me and we can read Bill Bryson’s At Home together and discuss this in further neurodivergent niche interest detail

After dinner is over and everyone’s gone Paige and Tommy pretend that they’re cute and into each other but as always just come across as middle schoolers trying to prove that they’re very cool and like the opposite gender now

Okay I’m calling it, it’s the same font but now it’s in yet ANOTHER color and italicized so we’re officially up to 3 fonts now. 2.99 fonts? 3 fonts.

The next day, Paige “works” (puts on her AirPod Maxes and does Woman Laughing At Salad at her screen on what we’re led to believe are business calls) and then blathers on about all her brand deals. Two things about this. One: her face is so disconcertingly shiny. Like she looks like an overly waxed cafeteria apple, or like if you touched her face it would make the new sneakers on a gym floor squeak. Why is she so shiny? Second of all, maybe because I don’t follow influencers, but I have never found an influencer who talks so much and so inorganically about their brand deals. Paige never misses an opportunity to be like, hello, I have a BRAND DEAL, did I mention there’s an upcoming BRAND DEAL, soon I’m going to have a BRAND DEAL and yet somehow never legally discloses ads in a very Mikayla Nogueira fashion. The result is both technically illegal and yet deeply inauthentic feeling so it’s like not even worth the FEC violation. My memory is faulty because I simply do not care, but considering how bad Paige is at doing the one thing she’s supposed to do, it doesn’t exactly surprise me that I think the only people Paige has worked with repeatedly over a long span of time are brands that will work with literally anyone (Mejuri, Intermissi, Revolve), Revlon makeup, Frankie’s bikinis, PJ Place, and maaaaaaybe Butcher Box and Thrive Market? Speaking of -

Not legally disclosed Thrive Market sponsorship! Paige eats three entire chips with salsa to prove she’s a girl’s girl who totally eats normal amounts. Paige claims she needs to subscribe to this company to get her Poppi fix in the boonies of “not being outside a major city” in Florida but Poppi had an ad during the Super Bowl and is in my local Shaw’s (that’s New England’s big basic regional grocery store chain, like equivalent to a Roche Brothers or Market Basket or Kroegers or whatever) AND Whole Foods, so that doesn’t strike me as… correct.

Tommy decides he wants stir fry so they go to Whole Foods and Paige makes “Asian-inspired peanut sauce stir fry”, I assume to bait me into screaming at her. [NOTE: there used to be now-deleted rant about Asian cooking that I have edited out in post production because Tumblr says it makes this text block too long and lol who cares] I don’t like being this person because the idea of “authentic” cuisine is bullshit and gatekeeping, and so if you, a normal-ass person, like your Americanized Paige style stir-fry, you can keep your Americanized Paige style stir-fry. But if you’re cosplaying as a food influencer and great chef and claiming to make the food of another culture, it’s just basic respect to actually try and understand what the fuck you’re doing and make clear to your audience where you’re adding your own twists.

Love to play my favorite game, Guess Why Paige’s Followers Are 99.99% White Sorority Girls/Former Sorority Girls Challenge

Paige doesn’t vlog for a fascinating day of filming ads and watching Tommy fish (oh no!!!) and then lays out in the sun and philosophizes on how zen and calm she is in Florida because of the weather and because Tommy’s a “super grounding person”. As she says this Tommy screams and hits her with the hose and she adds in font number four “So grounding <3”. Before Paige and Tommy go to the beach for him to surf and her to film people without consent on her drone, she rhapsodizes about citrus season and how oranges are better than candy.

“It’s eighty degrees at the beach and I’m wearing a sweatshirt. I’m probably the only girl in Florida to do this. I don’t know if you can relate to this but if there’s a slight breeze, the hoodie’s going on” - Yeah weird it’s almost like what happens when you don’t eat enough or have a proper amount of fat on your body????? You’re cold??? Even when you shouldn’t be??? Like that’s not a cute little girly thing it’s a symptom you need to be eating more???? ANYWAY.

Paige pretends to care about manatees and them getting hurt by boats but I would also bet she and Tommy go on the exact type of boats that hurt manatees all the time.

Paige body checks herself in a Free People Movement outfit (undisclosed PR from Australia!) and then they play tennis and eat… Mashed potatoes and gravy? Sure.

New font in the end credits (yellow on a puke-y olive background) which brings this video’s font count up to five.

[EDITOR'S NOTE - the second vlog I recapped is in part two, there's a character limit.]

#paige lorenze #plsnark

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kissypoets · 4 years ago

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Liability (Reprise)

In which Harry panics about getting mobbed while out for dinner with you and tries to make up for his mistake.

a/n: hihihi omg... this is my first time posting my work on here [ or anywhere, actually ] so please be kind. this was inspired by the song liability (reprise) by lorde!!! was listening to it and this idea just came to me and I really loved how it turned out and really wanted to share. I hope you enjoy :] !!

Word Count: 6, 543

Harry unbuttons his sheer dress shirt, blowing out a puff of air as his chest and stomach relaxes due to being released from the tight space. He folds the sleeves up to his forearms, inked skin being exposed to the cool air in his quiet bedroom, the dimmed iridescent light making his tattoos vivid and clearer than ever before on his tan skin. All the jogging Harry has done at the beach has certainly paid off. His skin was glowing in golden hue, highlighted parts burnt and sunkissed to perfection, leaving a darkened red tone that made him even more captivating. This has always managed to strengthen Harry’s external confidence, finding extra comfort in his tattoos becoming more visible knowing that they covered a part of him he couldn’t imagine exposing bare and blank.

Silence surrounds him as he tears his eyes away from his arm, sitting down on the edge of his bed and letting out another large exhale.

It hasn’t been a great night for him and the fact that he has to come home in a massive space that was filled with nothing but eerie silence certainly makes it worse. He was hoping to stay out all night with you but the moment people got a hold of his whereabouts, he knew better than to sit still and wait for the chaos to slap him in the face. Instead, he rushed both of you outside the restaurant and worry has taken over him completely to the point where taking you home seemed like the best idea to keep you away from the hysteria. You had hoped he was thinking of a more secluded place to bring you to, but when he said you should go, you swallowed the thickening lump in your throat and just nodded your head, trying your best to be understanding of the situation.

He felt beyond stupid thinking about it now. Enraged, dismay and dejected doesn’t even cover the feeling in his gut. Harry was disappointed in himself more than anything, feeling like he’d let you down just within months of being together.

Settling his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, his fingers rubbed his temples due to the pain that was starting to flourish in his dome. He could have done so many things in order to prolong the night and make an effort in your guys' relationship, yet he let the intense fret win him over, causing panic in his brain and feeling like he had no choice but to take you home.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters under his breath as he clasps his hands and pressed it hard against his forehead, “you could have taken her here and cooked a lovely dinner, you dimwit.”

Harry also knew he could’ve been the one to keep you safe tonight. If he was going to cause mayhem in your life, the least he could do was bring you some sort of consolation and protect you from all of it.

He feels so beyond disappointed in himself that the ache in his head has started to squeeze his cranium, agonizing pain rushing through every vein in his body. He was so tired of this continuously happening to everyone important in his life. Even though he loves what he does and feels such vigorous happiness and triumph from it, he still looks at it as a miniscule disadvantage for all his friends, family and partner. If Harry kept tabs on how many times the media and a large crowd has hurt the most important people in his life, then he’ll have an endless stack of it collecting dust in a separate room in his large residence.

Harry takes a few more deep breaths until his shaking ceases, doing what he was instructed by his therapist when needing to calm his anxiety and getting rid of the trepidation forming in the pit of his stomach and on the deep end of his throat. He swallows thickly and straightens his back, inhaling and exhaling one last time.

Calling you to explain himself and checking in on how you were doing was the right thing to do right now. He reaches in his pockets, pulling out his phone and instantly putting you on dial. He has your number memorized and favorited in his contacts, the bold font of his nickname for you listed first on the section.

The phone rang once, twice, then four more times before it went straight to voicemail. It didn’t even vex him, he just stayed on the line and listened to your sweet voice echo through his ear drums, savoring every syllable that left your mouth. You sounded like how it felt to touch velvet, or the feeling of bliss that rushes through him whenever he finishes a song. You felt good, you sounded good.

A wave of calmness hits his body, the frustration and disappointment in him halting for a second as he focuses on your saccharine voice, “hey! So sorry for not being able to pick up your call. Chances are I’m sleeping or completely engulfed by a book. I promise to get back to you as soon as possible. Hope you’re well, bye!’

When the line cuts off, Harry looks at his phone screen, enthralled by the brief message. He wasted no time dialing your number again, standing up to pace around the room when worry creeps back in his abdomen. Hands settled on his hip, he bites his lip as he waits in vehement anticipation for you to greet him through the phone. But after several rings, it leads to your voicemail again and he’s left even more concerned.

“Fuck,” he tilts his head back and closes his eyes, shoving one of his hand inside his pants to bring some comfort in his physique, “one more call.”

The airconditioning in the room roared loudly, coming to life and blowing soft, cool air from the ceiling. Harry’s forgotten that he still had his dress shirt on, opened wide on the center and exposing his abdominal muscles and the large butterfly inked on the center of it looking glorious and fresh. The ventilation blew air right on his skin and he can feel the hair rising due to the coldness, not helping the nervousness that was already swallowing the entirety of his stomach.

He continued pacing as the line rings, his breathing in sync with each pause. He wasn’t entirely sure anymore if you’d pick up at all, but when the ringing stopped and there were seconds of silence, he looked at his screen and noticed the time stamp going.

He stopped in the middle of his bedroom and pressed the phone back to his ears, certain you’ve picked up. The knot on his stomach tightened and his chest started beating rapidly, palms sweating inside the pockets of his slacks. He wanted you to pick up but after already failing to hear from you twice, he wasn’t expecting it on the third call.

“Baby?” Harry calls. There was some groaning.

“No idea who the fuck this is, but some of us are trying to sleep, mate,” a deep voice rings through his drums, tiredness and sleepiness evident. Harry’s stomach drops as he stares at the wall in front of him. A male?

Harry’s head starts racing and he swallows a thick ball of swelling anxiety in his throat. He can feel his breathing becoming uneven. He checks the screen of his phone again, making sure that he called the right person. After seeing your nickname still typed out neatly and boldly on the front, he feels a quarter of relief. He shouldn’t think the absolute worst because it could be anyone. Harry has earned multiple different titles under the category of being overly jealous and he admits that it turns him into an arrogant son of a bitch, but he just really couldn’t help it. He wants to be the only one.

“Hellooooo?” the voice on the other end startles him out of his thoughts and he focuses back on the call. The man sighs when Harry doesn't answer. “Look, you’ve called three times on her phone while she was passed out on the couch. She’s in the shower now and I’ll let her know that a--hang on--” he looks at his screen, “that a Harry rang, cool?”

Whoever answered your phone didn’t even bother to wait for Harry to agree, he just hung up and did as he said.

The grip on Harry’s phone tightened without control, his eyes starting to water due to the intense stare he gave his wall. Shower? Why were you so tired beforehand? Who was that? Why, why, why… Multiple questions raced through his brain and he rushed to sit at the end of his bed. You’re too good and you’d never do anything to hurt him like this, he knows that. Or does he? His jealousy is getting the best of him and he senses it. He does his breathing exercises again as he waits patiently to hear from you this time.

The airconditioning starts to die down, the noise it was making starting to decrease and heat starts to radiate throughout Harry’s body. He wasted no time ripping his dress shirt off, fully exposing his toned thorax, muscles flexing due to his nervous breathing and brood.

You’ve mentioned Effy to him multiple times before, considering the amount of interesting stories you’ve told him about your drunken nights together and spontaneous trips; stories he’s certainly loved hearing and continues to anticipate whenever you’re together. He knew that she was your only roommate, that she’s enthralled by women and that you haven’t mentioned any guy friends yet. He even remembers correctly that you’re the only child, your family living across the globe and that the closest thing you have to a relative here in Los Angeles is Effy, no brother and no cousins.

Harry tries not to continue overthinking but he’s really shit in that department. It’s one of the many traits that he despises the most in himself, knowing that his past relationships had gone wrong because of it and he refuses to let that happen again.

Thank god his thoughts were cut off when his phone starts to ring and vibrate on his hand, the same nickname you’ve become accustomed to shining brightly on his phone screen. He stands up from his bed and quickly answers, “hello? Hi. I’m--”

“Harry,” you sigh in relief at the sound of his voice. He doesn’t know that you’ve been expecting a call for over two hours now since he dropped you home, “hi, baby. Are you okay? Finn said--”

“Finn. Is he-- who is he, exactly?” You notice a tint of vulnerability in his voice.

Harry looks down at his feet that were covered in baby pink socks, a hand on his hip while he waits for you to answer. He hopes he didn’t sound pathetic asking that. He felt ridiculous enough as it is and absolutely stupid for not asking about your wellbeing first. He was about to retract and take it back but you’ve managed to chuckle through the phone before answering and Harry bites his lip.

“Effy’s brother. He’s got a research trip down in San Diego so he’s here for a visit. Sorry for however he acted over the phone. I promise he’s a great guy,” you say, “how are you? I so badly wanted to call but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk especially because of what happened at Perch.”

You were always so honest and straightforward with your thoughts. Harry loves that so much about you. Somehow, it boosts his confidence even more whenever he’s around you and he’s never afraid to speak his mind and act however he wants. What he lacks in being able to communicate properly with his partners you make up for in the relationship and he was more than grateful.

“I’m fine. I’m,” Harry pauses for a second before exhaling and changing his words, “I’m not fine actually. I miss you and I’m so terribly sorry for dismissing you. It wasn’t your fault, I swear, I’m just an arse.”

He continues before you can disagree, “I got nervous. That was the first time that’s ever happened while I was with you and I didn’t want it to change anything between us. I didn’t want you to feel differently. I want you now. I mean… I want you to come over now. I want to cook dinner for you and make up for what happened.”

Harry’s heart starts to beat even faster against his chest as he admits his feelings in accurate words. He’s aware how late it is already and you probably have classes tomorrow but he’s hoping you’ll agree anyway so he can fix a wasted and ravaged night. He also thinks he can persuade you into wanting to stay, the need to hold and kiss you intensifying the more he thinks about it. He wants to show you just how sorry he is. He wants you to forgive him and let him show you just how important you are to him. He wants to make you his favorite homemade meal and demonstrate his outrageous skills in bed, which you have been pining for and missing so much.

You were about to answer but he cuts you off once more. You smile slightly as you listen to him speak, “fuck. How are you? How are you feeling? Sorry.”

“Deep breaths, please? You sound really nervous and you have no reason to be, it’s just me,” you have no idea how nervous you make him and how much he worries about you, but he refrains from saying it out loud, not wanting to speak over you again. “I’m bummed about what happened because I really wanted to have a lovely dinner with you but I also understand. I understand and I feel better now that I’m hearing your voice. You have nothing to apologize for, Harry.”

“I do,” he mutters and toys with his belt, eyes still on the floor, “if it weren’t for me, no crowd would have showed up and we would still be sitting on that rooftop with a nice glass of extremely expensive wine. They’ll have no choice but to kick us out.”

You giggle and the sound makes Harry’s anxiety melt away. The tension in his muscles starts to soften and his heart starts to slow down, instantly feeling healed.

Harry looks up and his lips finally curl on its sides, dimples popping out on both of his cheeks and he feels more than relieved. He had no doubts about you understanding the unfortunate circumstance but he was one to always need validation and he feels undeniably reassured by your simple words, and even just the sound of your laugh.

At times, strange happenings like that would commence an argument with his exes. Looking back at it now, it was very odd to him considering he had no control over it. Plus he trusts his fans enough and knows that they wouldn’t do anything to put him and his loved ones in danger. Though mobs happen, he’s aware that they will never cross a line that damages his respect for them.

But you discepher and accept it, without him having to beg you to or explain to you. Another reason why he’s so enamored by you. You just know.

“Yeah, that would have been lovely. But we can always go another time. I saw you today and it was enough for me,” you replied. Harry’s cheeks tightens as he smiles wider, dimples deepening and crinklers appearing beside his eyes. He feels himself flush because of your words and he crunches his nose to calm himself.

“We can try again tonight,” he brings his suggestion back into the conversation, “so, will you come? I can pick you up, I don’t mind.”

You frown. “I’d love to but, it’s almost eleven, classes tomorrow and Effy--”

“Please, darling?” Harry begs, sitting down on his bed again. He hears you inhale upon hearing the sudden word of endearment and he grins. He knows how much you love it when he calls you random pet names, but mostly the sweetest ones that will have you turning into goo.

“God, you’re good,” you admit and tilt your head back, laughing quietly. Harry’s grin grows, “fine. But I can drive myself.”

“No,” he butts in. “I can pick you up. It’s just a twenty minute drive.”

It was a tactic. Harry figured that if you didn’t have your vehicle with you then you will be more likely to stay. But he knows that he’ll cave in on driving you back anyway if you really wanted to go home for the night.

“Harry,”

“Honey,” he throws in another nickname. You inhale. He smiles.

“Fine,” you say in defeat.

Harry’s heart almost leaps out of his chest in triumph and excitement; the fact that he’s seeing you again tonight lit up something in him. He’s grateful that you can’t see the idiotic smile he’s sporting right now, otherwise his body will flush in humiliation and you’ll tease him about it all night. Little does he know, you’ve got the same look on your beautiful face, also thankful that he couldn’t see you. You��re both a mirrorball to each other’s life, lighting one another up in a way that you’ve both always craved.

“See you then, baby,” he says.

___

Due to the lack of traffic, Harry was able to make it in your apartment complex in just under 15 minutes. Mulholland Drive was packed as usual but it still didn’t prevent him from arriving too late. Dressed in black joggers and a black hoodie, curls tied up in a black scrunchie and pushed back in a red bandana, he looked absolutely cozy and at ease.

The brief conversation between the two of you over the phone has brought him slight serenity. He’s still hoping to somehow bring it up tonight and apologize once more knowing what he said through the phone wouldn’t be enough. And he also wants to put his compelling abilities in bed to good use as a way to show you how sorry he was, if you’ll let him.

He adjusts the cool air that left his car’s ventilation, making sure it wasn’t too warm nor too cold once you get in the car. He stares at the open space of your building, waiting for you to come down through the stairs while exhilaration rushes through every vein in his body.

Harry feels absolutely nonsensical because of how much he misses you despite seeing you hours ago. A minute, hour, day or weeks even, will never be enough time and he’s fully aware of that. But thinking about everything he wants to do with you just brings back the same intolerable thoughts; getting mobbed, harassed and surrounded by hundreds of people even if you’re just having dinner in a public restaurant together. He suddenly starts to feel unsettled, desperately needing you to show up within his sight already so he can forget about everything and just focus on you and taking care of you, which is what he has started to love doing most.

Just in time, before Harry’s thoughts can get darker and deeper, he catches you walking carefully down the stairs looking irresistible as always. Your hair was in a low bun, bits of hair falling loose around your face while you sported a lovely white frock dress and matching fluffy slippers.

His whole face lights up in jubilation, mouth almost hurting due to how big his smile was and the wild elation in him sharpens. Harry chuckles as soon as you get in the car, more than delighted to see you. Your scent engulfs him in a wild wave, the air conditioning circulating it throughout his car and he didn’t mind it one bit. He hopes that it would stay in there forever, surrounding him to bring a sense of tranquility.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he greets you, wasting no time and leaning forward to catch your soft lips with his. He feels you take a deep breath and you can feel his smile against you, his hands coming up to stroke your cheeks. Your shock is evident when you laugh quietly while his lips continue to tackle yours, cupping his jaw as you kiss him back and Harry slowly melts due to the feeling. His body slumps from where he sat, savoring your taste and marking you with his.

You pull back, pecking him lightly once more before greeting him back, “hi, handsome.”

His body heats up as he leans back in his seat and starts driving, “cool enough in here for you?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you answer, putting your seatbelt on. “How was the drive?”

“It was fine, no traffic so we’ll be home in no time,” he says, catching a quick glance at you while you fixate your eyes on the road, “you look beautiful, by the way. Love the dress.”

Your breathing changed for a second upon hearing the word home, but you chose to ignore it. Instead, you smile lovingly at him, your hands reaching out to lightly massage the back of his head. He hums at the soothing feeling.

“Thank you, baby,” you reply, a tint of blush creeping up your cheeks. “I missed you.”

Harry feels his body heat up at your confession. He has no idea why you have this much of an effect on him but he loves it. He feels utterly loved and happy, which is something he hasn’t felt in awhile and always wanted to have. Instead of saying it back, he teases you, “sod off, you just saw me hours ago. Clingy much?”

You look over at him in slight surprise, not missing the humor behind his words. He glances at you sideways, lips tilted up in a smirk and his eyebrow lifted jokingly. You pull your hand away and cross your arms over your chest, “you know what, yes, absolutely. I can’t get enough of you.”

Harry didn’t expect you to say that so when you notice his face getting flushed and serious, you couldn’t help but giggle. His whole body went rigid for a couple of seconds, eyes still focused on the road. Instead of answering, his hand reaches towards your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze to show his appreciation. His thumb brushes against your skin a couple of times and he feels it get bumpy, hairs rising because of how good it was making you feel. Harry grins to himself, perceiving the effect he had on you and completely enjoying it.

You put your hands on top of his, feeling the warm veins against your palm and you look out the window, watching the bright lights pass by.

Harry loves going on drives with you as much as you do with him. He hates it that his radio was old and wouldn’t work, but he also refuses to get it fixed. He finds comfort in the silence within the confined space and also enjoys the way the noise outside surrounds him. He loves it even more when you’re on the passenger seat experiencing the therapeutic moment with him. Knowing that he can be with you in comfortable silence gave him a lot of hope in your relationship.

Minutes pass by and only a couple of miles are left until you reach his beautiful Malibu home. Harry remembers the elephant in the room, his chest tightening upon the thoughts of what brought you two in this situation in the first place. Should he address it now or wait until you both get to his house? There’s never really a right time and he knows that. He wasn’t even sure if it was something you want to talk about or if you wanted to ignore the whole thing and instead continue on to have a peaceful time together.

But, you were just patiently waiting for him to address it. You knew that if you brought it up, it’ll make him uncomfortable and he’ll start blaming himself. It was an admission in his part that you certainly want to avoid. The thought of him feeling like he puts you in a dangerous environment squeezes your heart so disturbingly that you can feel it all the way up your brain. You’ll get upset and he might assume the worst; when really, you just want him to understand that you know he can’t control it and that despite everything, you adore him and will never leave, unless, for unbeknown reasons and god forbid, he wants you to.

“Almost there, love,” he cuts his own thoughts off, including yours, clueless about how in sync they were. You look over at him the same time he took a quick glance at you. He looks back at the road and whispers something about how pretty you are but it was so quiet you could barely hear it.

Instead of acknowledging it, you put your hand back where it was on his hair and softly massage his scalp. You feel him lean back a tad, clearly finding peace in your touch. You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying those three words you didn’t know he wanted to say too, both of you too scared to admit and profess it out loud.

_____

“Is there anything I should be doing?” you ask Harry from where you sat in his kitchen, a glass of extremely expensive red wine in your hand. He wanted to open a bottle of Ichiro’s Malt, hoping that it’ll make up for the ones you both could’ve had at Perch.

He twists his body slightly to look at you, answering in the sweetest tone, “nope. Sit there and look pretty, that’s all. I’m making this for you.”

Harry looks absolutely handsome, striking and sexy from where he stood, chopping a bunch of vegetables like it was his professionalism. He’s changed to a plain black shirt, the material hugging his toned body perfectly and emphasizing the muscles on his arm, back and stomach. He even had a dish towel thrown over his shoulder, adding to the whole look. You sipped your wine as you continued to stare, noticing the way his body is flexing as he moves and his tattoos moving along on his skin. You sighed, feeling so lucky.

You decided to walk over to him to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. Harry has certainly mastered the art of cooking; having been able to experience life in Italy, he had acquired the new skill flawlessly. It’s something he’s always wanted to be better at, considering the only thing he knew how to make was his grandfather’s special sandwich recipe and god only knows how tired people are of eating it.

Harry feels your presence beside him as you lean back against the smooth counter, sipping your wine. He looks over at you as he cuts the food, holding an admirable smile on his face. He loves having you here. He loves being this close to you, knowing that you’re within his sight and he was able to be unapologetically affectionate without the judgemental eyes and words of the public.

He speaks when you look back at him with a shine in your eyes, “how’s the wine?”

“Hm, tastes like money,” you say jokingly. He laughs at your answer and you smiled so wide at the sight of his head slightly thrown back, white and perfectly aligned teeth showing with his nose scrunched up.

“I have no doubt about that,” he says, looking back down at the cutting board.

The bottle costs roughly around twenty thousand dollars, more if you count it in pounds. But he chooses not to say it. Instead he asks about your day, as he usually would every single time he sees you or talks to you over the phone, “how was your day? Any progress in your thesis?”

Your ears perk up at the question about your dissertation. Harry has always been interested in it and you fail to understand the fascination. You’ve asked why before and he always admits that it was something that matters to him too, but you feel like that isn’t a good enough reason to be rapted in a boring essay by a grad student.

He tremendously admires the fact that you’ve continued your studies to get a masters in English. He envies it and he wishes he had taken your footsteps. But Harry is so beyond proud of you and just the thought of you becoming a famous novelist like you’ve always wanted makes him feel over the moon. You deserve nothing but good things and he can’t wait until you finish uni and finally build your self publishing pursuit.

“A lot of progress which I’m so relieved about. Remember when we read Course of Love together? I annotated it in the process and a lot of the quotes really came in handy for my essay,” you tell him, “I’ve reached probably eighty-nine pages and we only needed to write a hundred, but I’m aiming for one-fifty, max.”

“Always pushing yourself to work harder than you need to,” Harry says with a soft smile on his face. He starts to mix his ingredients together in the pan on the stove and you watch him work his magic cautiously, “but that’s really good, love. I’m proud of you. I know you’re gonna kick ass and everyone else's thesis will suck.”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you nod teasingly. You’re actually really nervous about it and he knows that. But you’ve mentioned before that talking about it doesn’t really help calm you so Harry doesn’t take the conversation further than that, “what about you? How was your day? Wrote anything new?”

Harry shakes his head and looks over at you as he starts to shake the pan to mix whatever was on it, “you haven’t even told me how your day was, babe.”

“Crap, sorry,” you have a habit of completely disregarding certain parts of a conversation. He found it adorable most of the time but when it came to arguments or discussions between the two of you about serious topics, it vexed him to no end. He remembers you missing the whole point of your conversations sometimes and he loathed it then, “one of my professors ditched today so I only had one class. Took a lot of naps after lunch which was nice then-- then whatever happened at Perch. My day was alright.”

You try to soften a part of your answer with the last statement but it was very clear Harry didn’t miss it. He looks over at you for a quick second and you sipped your wine to avoid eye contact.

You didn’t mean anything by it. It happened today and he was asking about today so you decided to slip it in there in honor of your promises to always be honest, free-spoken and up front with one another. It didn’t necessarily ruin your day, it was just simply dejecting and unlike anything you’ve had to deal with before. But you’re with him now and he’s cooking you something that already smelled absolutely delicious so you were willing to look past it. But Harry couldn’t and you knew that.

He lowers the heat on the stove to keep the food sizzling but not to the point where it’ll burn. He wipes his hands with the towel on his shoulder before approaching you with an unreadable expression on his face. You lean back further against the counter as his hand guides your arms to wrap around his neck, putting his hands on your waist and squeezing affectionately. He stares deep into your eyes and you wondered how he was so good with that; how it didn’t make him look nervous despite being the shyest person that you know.

Softly, he speaks, “I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry about that. I’m a dick.”

Mirth creeps into your eyes at his last word and your lips unintentionally curls on its side. He has no idea why you started smiling but he did too. He feels you interlock your fingers against his skin as you answer him, “the way you say dick is really amusing. But you aren’t and you have nothing to apologize for. You have no control over it.”

You’re so humorous and he loves it so much. He loves you. “I am a dick and I will apologize because even if I can’t control it, I’m still the reason why it happens. The way I acted afterwards was very irrational too. Just admit it, I’m a dick.”

“If I agree, will you stop apologizing and calling yourself that?”

“Yes,”

“Fine, you’re a dick,”

“I know and I’m sorry,” he smiles at you.

You squint your eyes as his whole face beams, your hands squeezing his face and squishing his skin, “cheeky.”

He laughs and pulls you closer to him, “come here, baby.”

Your noses touch as he leans down to get closer to your face, his lips barely touching yours. Whenever he inhales, your engrossing scent engulfs his nostrils and it brings him great comfort. Your hands cup his jaw, thumb caressing his cheeks as he opens his mouth once more, “I mean it. I regret taking you home and acting the way I did. I should’ve apologized right there and then. I should’ve taken you here and found a way to make the night better but I’m trying to make up for it now. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me in a really fucking long time and I don’t want things to change because you finally got a glimpse into another part of my life. I won’t let anything happen to you, please know that, but it will get worse. Mobs happen and it’s horrifying at times.”

It’s something that really worries Harry and you see it take over his whole figure. His face shows vivid perturb and his body has become slightly tensed from his words. It’s true; it will get worse and when you witness it, you will be horrified. It’s something Harry has always had to worry about before making the decision to fully commit to someone. It’s affected his past relationships abdominably and he doesn’t want the same thing happening between the two of you. Like he said, you’re far too important to him and for something as riotous as this to come in between that will be heart shattering and utterly painful. This was his life, it will always be like this and if you can’t accept nor understand that, then who will? He only wants you.

You have no idea what to say, eyes boring straight into his pale irises, clear brood written all over it. Your thumb continues to massage his skin which slightly soothes Harry’s tensed muscles and he’s worried about what will come out of your mouth. He leans back a little to read your face but your mind is so empty that the only thing you can utter really was, “I love you and I’m here for as long as you want me to, okay?”

Your words made Harry lean back further out of reflex, a sharp intake of air filling his lungs upon hearing your revelation. The sudden realization of what you just blurted out forced your eyes shut, hands covering your face in slight embarrassment. You weren’t ashamed that you said it, you were just scared whether or not he felt the same way. You hear Harry laugh and you peak out of your fingers, making him laugh harder. You take your hands off to playfully scold him, your skin saturated with redness, “oh god! Will you stop? I love you and I’m not scared to say it. Nothing’s funny about that.”

Harry chuckles some more, making his way forward to you again and takes your hand in his. He wraps it back around his neck, leaning down to take a good look at you.

His heart is beating so fast in his chest and he was so happy that he didn’t even care if you could hear it. He’s been wanting to say the same three words to you every single time he’s with you; even when he’s just admiring you while you read a book or watching a movie, or when the two of you are simply hanging out and talking. He catches the obvious adoration in your bearing and always notices the twinkle in your eyes when you look at him. He hopes he’s been showing it as well because there’s no better feeling than loving you and he wants you to know that.

You shy away from his stare and he titters. He tilts your chin up, teeth on full display on his face while his cheeks deepen into dimples, “you love me?”

“Yes,” your noses touch and you sigh. “I’ve said it like twice already and you, zero times.” You poke his chest in a light hearted manner.

“Actually, you just couldn’t take the hint before,” he teases you. “I thought it was very clear that I love you.”

You bite your lip to keep your smile from widening and you close your eyes momentarily before locking eyes with him again. He scrunches his nose to keep himself from becoming too joyful because of the exchange between the two of you. You tease him back, “you’re just doing a shit job at showing it, that’s all.”

Harry gasps at your comeback and wraps both of his arms around you without hesitancy, squeezing you as tight as he can and lifting you gently off of the floor. You laugh so loud that his ears perked up at the sound, making his heart beat rapidly and somehow faster than it has ever done before.

He loves you. And you love him back. There wasn’t any doubt about it between the two of you, it was just a matter of finding the right moment to admit it at last to each other. And what better moment is there than this one in the kitchen, where the food on the stove is at its edge of burning without the two of you even noticing.

Harry puts you back down on the floor and both of you catch your breath. You took the lead this time and grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grasps the back of your neck with one hand and the other softly cupping your jaw. He smiles against you and you feel it, butterflies forming in your stomach as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls. He kisses you so deep, hard, full of love and savors your taste like there was no tomorrow. You feel his hand start to crawl up to grip bits of your hair but before you can let it get further than that, you pull back and you both inhale so loud it erupted an echoing chuckle.

“Food’s gonna burn, babe,” you tell him, breathing hard.

“I’m so in love with you,” he simply says back.

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indomies · 4 years ago

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#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag up to 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

sabrina @lanwangiji, my love, tagged me to share my process of making this typography edit! check out her explanation of her the untamed edit and her edit tag.

1. PLANNING

i once opened lyrics edit requests so i can learn and practice typography. this edit was a request as well. i asked them which lyrics they wanted to have and the colors they’d like. since i got several requests and it was hard to keep tabs on them, i made a trello board so i could organize everything. i’m still using the trello board for every edit idea i have, the board makes my life easier.

above is what i filled the card in the board with. basically just information of the requests.

1.1 INSPIRATION

once i got the request, my first thought was to find the vibe the song/lyrics exude. “it’s an old curse” screamed witchy vibes to me, so i went to pinterest to find some inspirations. at first i was looking for witchy poster designs and i came across this. i liked how it has smoke-ish graphic and i thought the smoke suited the “old curse” lyrics. and tbh pinterest is a rabbit hole, they gave me suggestions after suggestions, like this and this which became my inspiration for the color palette (i added the gold from those pics) and the sun moon design gave me the idea to incorporate space stuffs too. i somehow landed on this too, and because i wanted to include space theme, i made a simple phases of the moon. ultimately the hero of this edit was the lyrics, i didnt want the graphics took the center stage. i was inspired to make a crystal ball and do this kind of typography but after several trials i couldnt get the the typography right, so i scratched that idea and went with the space theme instead.

1.2 PICKING COLORS

after i was feeling inspired enough, i went looking for the right colors. i usually just type “color name” and “palette” on pinterest. example “dark grey color palette” and i chose the one i liked best. when the request only asked for 1 color, i always searched for either a complimentary or contrasting color to give it a jushz, to add sprinkles. that’s why i added gold on top of the dark grey.

1.3 FINDING FONTS

this is the hardest part. the fonts play important role to the design. they need to convey the vibes of the lyrics, in this case witchy/magic vibe. i needed to find fonts or font just as magical and a bit whimsical. tho i hoard fonts... i like to use new font for every typography edit lmao sue me.

i highly recommend going to creativemarket free goods site, pixelsurplus font freebies and behance to search for fonts. i always use 100% free fonts, that means i can use it personally as well as commercially. creativemarket gives me desktop license for the fonts, which means i can use it for commercial as well. the reason i do this because i want to open an etsy shop someday, and i want to have the right license when i sell my stuffs. i almost never buy fonts bc they are expensive lmao.

the fonts in used are “Vintage” for the main typograpy (i think i was a freebie from creativemarket) and “Morganite” for the title of the lyrics and the name of artist.

2. CREATING

once i have my materials and ideas, i open my illustrator and hope it doesnt crash every 5 min.

for this kind of typography edits, i use 600x700 px. tbh i dont like using 540px, the suggested tumblr size, as the width bc to me it doesn’t look as good in quality, so i up the px. but more on this sizing later. i utilize the artboards function in illustrator, and i use 2 artboards.

i use illustrator (ai) bc i’m working with vectors. when i work with vectors, the graphics/texts or whatever im making in ai wont become blurry or lose its quality when i enlarge or shrink it. in compare to photoshop, i need to make for example the moon graphic very big, so i wont lose the quality when i reduce and enlarge it again. with vector, i can start small and when i expand it, it’s still as good as when it’s tiny.

2.1 GRADIENTS

i started with the gradients first. i created a rectangle as big as 600x700px and with the “freeform gradient” tool in ai, i played with the colors. below is the color palettes i used

2.2 LYRICS AND GRAPHICS

once the gradients are done, i worked with the lyrics and graphics right away. when i first doing this edits, i made typos a lot lmaooooooo. so i copy and pasted the lyrics on top of my artboard, so i wouldnt have any typos.

i had 3 layers in my ai. one for the inspo pics and the OG lyrics. the rest for the edits themselves. i broke up “It's an old curse/dreamers diving headfirst” into to parts, hence the 2 more layers

i almost always started with the lyrics first then the graphics. but for this edit, i made the smoke first so i can layout where my text would be.

tbh the process of making the lyrics is a trial and error. i tried bunch of different stuffs and i chose whatever the best. but i worked like methodically, i made sure i finished the first part of the lyrics first then i could move on.

i was lucky with this font “vintage”. the font offers me several glyphs like these

and i chose the one at the bottom. you’re very lucky if you find a font and they have glyphs.

excursion: glyphs vs fonts

glyph is an individual character. It might be a letter, an accented letter, a ligature, a punctuation mark, a dingbat, etc.

A font is a digital file which is used to display a typeface, which contains the entire upper- and lowercase alphabet as well as punctuation, numbers, and other special characters.

after i was finished with all the lyrics i added some graphics to make the edit pretty like small stars or dots. i added the song title and the artist too, sometimes at the bottom sometimes at the top. and i added my watermark put it as small as i could and made it a bit invisible but still can be seen.

2.3 EXPORTING

exporting! this is where i’m going to go deeper with the dimension of my work. in ai, i always choose to save with “export as screens” function. it automatically divides the artboards i have and save them separately. i always save as png, bc the size is smaller than jpg but can maintain the quality.

now the export tab looks like this

see the formats? i always scale up my edits, 2-3 times the original artboard size. reason is, to maintain the quality. i have tried to save it as original, 600x700 px, but it turned out a bit blurry. bc everything in ai is vector, when i scale up it doesnt lose the quality. BUT once i save it as png, it’s not a vector anymore, and when you zoom in until a certain degree it’ll be pixelated. that’s why i always scale up, to avoid it becoming pixelated when it’s just zoomed 1 or 2 times.

2.4 FINAL TOUCH

i opened my photoshop and also pray it won’t crash. import the png of my edits, add some grains/noise. the reason i use photoshop is, the noise filter is way better than in ai. it’s smoother somehow. and then i export my edits.

(i have a timelapse of how i made one of my edits, it’s not this one, but it’ll give you a better visualization. find it HERE

3. POSTING

now the hardest parts are done, we go to posting!

i uploaded the 2 posters on tumblr as photos then i wrote the captions. for this typography edit, i always chose another lyrics that i like from the same song for the caption. i bolded the lyrics, add link to all of my typography gradient edits.

i always use this link to color my caption. i usually choose 3-4 colors, and i took the colors from my edit. but this was not until recently lmao. before i just took a guess and looked for similar colors that match the edit, but then i thought “why didnt i just use the color in the posters lmao”

ok after i have my html code for the caption, i go to this site to replace the “;” with “ “ so tumblr can read the code.

i’m not one who puts their edits in draft, bc i just cant wait to post it. i have to option here, either i post it immediately when the time is right (i usually post between 4-8) or i schedule it, if im finished before 4.

i put all the necessary tags and click post! i am done finally!

i’m tagging:

@thetriangletattoo for this amazing series

@deludedandlostcause for this impressive gif

@half-lightl for this spectacular edit

@gayndrew for this stunning drawing

@thechampagnelovers for this cool collage

@cloudslou for this incredible edit

@heyangels for this incredible edit

#bacotan belle #showyourprocess

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cyclesprefectpress · 3 years ago

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[image description: a proof of a font of handset type for letterpress printing, displaying every letter, symbol, and special character in the font. it's called "Sixteenth Century Roman," 24 pt., and is a rough-edged serif font with a deliberately worn look. end description.]

hello hello i am return from a deep dive into several reference materials that assumed a little bit more knowledge about how Medieval Latin works than i actually have, but, it was all exTREMEly inch resting to me. i am absolutely not a historian but here we are, a speedrun of my pinballing around trying to ensure that I know what the fuck im storing in my type corridor:

so 16th Cent. Roman, i already knew, was a font Paul Duensing designed based on this incomplete set of old Italian punches he acquired (punches, the first step of old school typecasting, where you carve the relief letter shape into the end of a stick of steel, and you uuuh punch that into the copper matrix, which is then the negative mould-shape you use to cast multiple copies of the lead sorts with hot metal; surviving punches are precious artifacts not the least because they are. they’re hand-carved!! often by the type designer themselves. historical and also wildly cool craftsmanship). these punches were all beat up and probably water damaged, fucky and rough-edged, so he re-did and filled in the gaps in the alphabet with similarly styled letters of his own. very cool. an extremely nerdy lil passion project of a typecaster in the 1960s, very typical of type people. we all find a Thing to obsess over, and sometimes it's reviving an incomplete set of punches from the 1500s that you found in, idk, it's usually a bucket in somebody's basement.

anyway it's got a bunch of ligatures and the long s, sure sure sure, but WHAT are all these gibberish characters with tildas and lines thru the stems of ps and qs and such—

Duensing's full font is in Mac McGrew's specimen book, great, i have that, except McGrew's book has complete proofs and a little bit of history for each font but doesn't always cover what each symbol in a unique alphabet is for, and i knew just enough about Latin to guess that they were abbreviations but not what each of them stood for. a little bit of searching got me this far, which is to say, "Abbreviation in Medieval Latin Paleography," a translation of an Italian essay on the subject from 1929. It is prefaced by the translators with gems like: "Take a foreign language, write it in an unfamiliar script, abbreviating every third word, and you have the compound puzzle that is the medieval Latin manuscript." Scribes writing in medieval Latin just tossed out letters they didn't care to deal with, constantly, and had stand-in special characters and abbreviations for syllables/words/particles and there were intuitive rules but way too many variations in time and place and person to make a reasonably-sized, static lexicon. amazing. hope all u paleographers are having fun over there.

the essay has a great big glossary of truncations and abbreviations and so on which clearly cover most of the figures in Duensing's font:

[image description: screenshots of the essay, with various symbols and the Latin syllables they abbreviated. an m with a bar over it, ex., stood in for men or mun. end description.]

ok! BUT this q with a little swoop off the end kept bugging me!! for all these dead-use symbols this essay is using handwritten samples, obviously, and there's clearly variation in execution and also typographers take liberties, and i just thought, sure my piece of type looks a lot like the quod here but it does link the staff to the swoop where the handwritten sample doesn't, and it could just as well be a fanciful ligature for qn which apparently can stand in for quando, and i have no idea which is a more common-use syllable likely to be cast in the font if you're only going to pick your top 14, and i just like to be sure about things.

SO. i went to double-check with Johnson’s Typographia. Johnson made like a thousand pages of printing manuals set in tiny tiny type in the 1820s which are rad as hell and tell you all sorts of things about how to run a shop and build your own press and cast type and going rates for work and employment and also, the alphabets/type case layout for whatever language or symbol set you might have to set type in, when handsetting type was mostly the only way to get stuff printed—English, Arabic, Chinese, Hebrew, musical notation, astronomical signs, aaaand it’s got a section for "Marks & characters used in the Domesday Book & other ancient records.”

[image description: a photo of a page of the manual, with similar but not always identical symbols for abbreviated use. many of these abbreviations are described as "a Domesday contraction." end description.]

and WHAT is a Domesday contraction, WELL, it's a contraction specifically from/prevalent in the Domesday book, a deeply boring and historically important tome about property distribution in England. It’s literally a survey. who owned what, in 1086. presumably mind-numbing. enormous, handwritten in Medieval Latin, EXTREMELY cool, go look at some images of it at least, very important to historians, economists, linguists, and a complete pain in the ass to set in type when that technology became available, having to cast any significant proportion of these variant characters in an alphabet. Johnson says, (in 1824) “It is an improvement of latter years only*, to have type cast to resemble the abbreviations used in the more ancient manuscripts; they being formerly rudely imitated, either from a common fount, or else were cut in wood for the purposes of any particular work.” wow that sucks. but in 1773 the government really wanted to be able to reproduce the Domesday Book in type, so a couple people tried to cut a set of punches for Domesday abbreviations and Joseph Jackson got it done and it only took 10 years to print an edited version of the manuscript. and then apparently all the type was destroyed in a fire in 1808. WOW that sucks.

but the point is, Johnson has a great big glossary of characters as they were translated into type in the making of the printed Domesday Book, and the Domesday punches were used or refrenced in the printing of other medieval latin works, which consequences a degree of standardization in the abbreviations used in those versions of the text that handwritten manuscripts never had or needed.

notably the Domesday quod looks even more different from my piece of type here which was pretty annoying, so what are the chances this thing is a quando, and anyway that's when my sister texted me back with better computer skills and a different search engine and found me a perfect match on the first try. it’s a quod. this National Diet Library digital exhibition has several different sample fonts, both black letter and roman, with quite consistent letter forms, if not choices about which abbreviations to bother casting.

*I don’t……exactly know what he means by this, since Gutenberg and contemporaries absolutely did cast many Medieval Latin abbreviations for their fonts nearly 400 years before this. His dismissal of “from a common fount” might be fair, since i think what he means by it is that you’d have a generic set of abbreviation characters which you would have to use in conjunction with whatever font was the main body of your text, and it’s messy to mix things that weren’t designed specifically to match. he may just mean that it’s new for his contemporary foundries to be casting all these expanded alphabets of abbreviations; Gutenberg didn’t have foundries to buy from and made his own type. he could include as many characters as he had the patience for. maybe Johnson is just a guy from the 1800s that didn’t have the internet and i shouldn’t jump down his throat for not knowing something. idk!! i have homework.

anyway that was my Friday!! feel free to correct me and/or suggest further reading if early typecasting is your Thing or. again. you just have better googling than me.

#letterpress #letterpress printing #handset type #lead type #typography #long post #:(( sorry #omitted: Johnson's scathing opinions on Almanacks and the people who read them #and ask you to typeset them #'''''the credulity of the vulgar''''''' alRIGHT bud #i guess if he was willing to set that whole paragraph in 8 pt.#or pay for it #it was at least an opinion he believed in very strongly.

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ask-purpled-and-blued · 4 years ago

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Vigilante

Not once has Purpled ever called himself a hero.

He wants that on record, wants to say it up front. He’s never had any delusions about what he is and what he’s doing.

He doesn’t have the license for it, doesn’t have the morals for it. He’s not even saving that many people.

He’s just some kid running around in pro hero cosplay with his shoddy homemade support gear.

So riddle him this: why the fuck is his vigilante name trending on Twitter under #Swag_forHeroCon?

(—This one’s got a high-stress moment and the briefest panic attack known to man somewhere in the middle. Mind the post’s tags and reply if it needs more.—)

—

It started about a year ago. It’s sophomore year and he’s looking at his options for next year’s classes.

Of course he’s taking AP Calc and everything he thinks colleges wanna see. That’s a given and a no-brainer and he’s not gonna go into detail about that.

No, what matters is that his junior and senior year let him take career classes.

Hero-related career classes.

Because not only is this a private nerd school that he needs his scholarship to afford. It’s a private nerd school that has a dual-enrollment type thing with a nearby heroics school.

And one with a pretty good support course that is now available to him.

He’s always been interested in math and engineering. Support courses are just using both of those to make cool shit for heroes and make hella money while doing so.

He’s done his research. Support gear can cost anywhere from a couple thousand dollars to an arm and a leg and both your kidneys.

And it’s his dream to make that kinda money.

So he talks to his counselor about it, fills out the applications and waivers, takes the program’s entrance exam. And within a week he’s got his new schedule that’s got an extra two hours slapped onto the end of the day.

It’s gonna be so worth it.

—

And it really was.

The beginning of the year was covering what they should make support gear for, how to take the quirks and ideas of the heroes they’re working for and make them actually work.

But also the design process, how to research stuff, lab safety. How to make something look nice while not compromising its utility, costume design, branding. Different materials and their uses, different materials and how to work with them. How to deal with mistakes and set-backs. Avoiding burnout and getting literally burn.

The class was amazing. But his favorite part came later in the year.

The final project.

They were given a made up hero student’s profile and were told to create a support item for them. The file came with their name, measurements, hero name, quirk description, and several sketches of what the fake person looked like and of them using their quirk.

They were given a few deadlines and some profiles came with design requests, but for the most part they were allowed to go ham.

And go ham he did.

His assignment was a kid whose quirk was being able to float just himself. He got a couple sketches of what the kid’s costume already had and it looked like there was a bee theme going on.

So, naturally, he decided to give this kid a pneumatic nail gun.

...

Alright so maybe that wasn’t as intuitive as he thought it was. But the kid didn’t have any sort of weapon on him in any of the sketches!

And there wasn’t any sort of close combat abilities listed in the biography like some of his classmates’s people had, so the further this kid could be from the action while still packing a punch the better.

Hence the nail gun he was designing to look like a stinger.

He did his research. Looked up where the body’s vital organs are and read up on acupuncture. Looked up the damage that stab wounds can do and how fast a thing had to be going to go right through you.

Printed out some human outlines and wrote up a couple sheets that pointed out the “no-no spots.” And basically wrote a manual on how to use the thing and half an essay on why certain safety features were implemented to keep him and the fake kid from being sued.

And then halfway through actually building the thing he got the idea to add a paralytic substance.

And then he hated himself a little bit because he had to find a substance that would be non-lethal and would have the desired affect. And then he had to go to his teacher during his office hours to sit down and explain that yes he had this idea but he’s not entirely sure if it’s a good one.

And he wrote another almost-essay about what he chose as the paralytic substance and why he chose it and what the max amount the average person could take was so that he wouldn’t be liable if it was used improperly.

And then he recorded himself reading all of his paperwork both for extra credit and because apparently the kid’s bio said he was dyslexic and the teacher wanted them to do this as realistically as possible.

Probably would’ve been easier to just change the font but he’s come this far, might as well go the extra mile.

He paints the thing. Gathers up all his research and his concept sketches and his blueprints and his explanations and his recordings.

And he dumps them on the teacher’s desk and enjoys the lull in the class as the final projects get reviewed and graded.

They get to watch movies and Netflix with the TA while the teacher sits in the other room grading them.

He loved this class.

—

He still loves the class but it loses points for the fucking heart attack it just gave him.

Apparently the hero students they made shit for we’re real hero students. Actual, physical people who applied to the heroics department and got in. And may possibly one day be heroes if they didn’t fail.

And were going to come in and see the shit they made that passed inspections. And would be given said shit to use as part of their hero costumes.

In hindsight it should’ve been obvious, but Purpled cut himself some slack there.

At least his guy was nice. A little too excited at 4pm on a Thursday, but given the fact that Purpled just handed him a gun and said he could shoot people, it was understandable.

Purpled felt really good as he walked this Tubbo guy through the instructions again. Apparently he’d already been sent the paperwork and the audio before this. So all that was left to do was remind him about it the important stuff and then taking five wide steps back and letting him shoot at a practice dummy.

...

Well, Tubbo’s aim wasn’t his problem.

F to any villains and civilians in his way.

—

At this point, there’s probably some confusion.

“Purpled, why did you become a vigilante if your support gear inventing future looked bright?”

He’s getting to that!

He needs to talk about his junior year to give context for his senior year.

Which sucked absolute ass.

—

For one, Purpled’s quirk came in.

Now, normally that would be a pretty good thing. Somewhere around 80% of America’s population had quirks.

Four out of every five people had some sort of ability or abnormality that ranged from being able to detach your ear to having super strength. Getting one that wasn’t detrimental to your health, even at his age, was generally a positive thing.

Except Purpled’s actually sucked. Sucked so fucking bad.

Yeah, he was lucky in that he didn’t suddenly grow gills and need to live underwater for the rest of his life or something. But he honestly wished he could go back to a week ago when he didn’t have this quirk.

When he wasn’t constantly being forgotten by the people in his life because of a quirk he couldn’t turn off.

If it wasn’t for the fact that the quirk counselor’s quirk let them detect the use of quirks, he would’ve thought he’d lost it.

People forgetting his face, his name, his existence over the span of a week was hell. He had to show his mother his birth certificate and social security card and his baby pictures so that she’s remember she had another son. Let alone everyone else in his life that he only saw at school.

Oh god his fucking school.

The lengths he had to go to to keep his fucking scholarship was fucking nuts.

Classes were a nightmare with the teachers forgetting about him by the end of the period.

Things eventually got easier when he realized it was an area of effect thing and that he could shorten it to affect people within a few feet of him.

From that point on he just had to social distance from people like his life depended on it. Because his social and academic lives did depend on it.

He didn’t experiment with his quirk beyond that though. He hated it. He did everything in his power to keep it as tightly controlled as he could.

Until the one time he didn’t.

—

He was out to get another notebook because he’d severely underestimated how many notes he’d need to take for one of his classes. It was just supposed to be a quick stop on his way home.

He’d sat on the bus home with his quirk pulled in tightly around him, the force of it a buzzing weight on his skin that he refused to let go of.

He got off at a stop that wasn’t his but was closer to the dollar store he had in mind. He honestly didn’t expect to take more than ten minutes.

Then a guy walked in and loudly told the cashiers to hand over the money.

Purpled wasn’t that close to the front, but he peeked around the aisle and watched the robbery unfold.

The dude had what looked like leaves for hair and was holding the cashiers at gunpoint. There were two of them at adjacent checkouts, neither of them with any visible mutations. They actually might not have quirks.

Purpled has no idea what to do with this information.

His best bet was to wait for the heroes to arrive and stay quiet-

One of the cashiers was looking right at him. Robber guy noticed.

Turned around and pointed his gun at Purpled. Told him to get out from where he was hiding and to kneel on the ground in the open.

And Purpled was scared. He couldn’t move, he’d frozen.

The guy got loud and mad and he still had the gun pointed at him.

Purpled was panicking. His chest felt too tight and his quirk was freaking out. Buzzing harder than it ever has.

He couldn’t hold it. He let go.

...

For a moment, everything was still and everything was quiet.

Purpled felt light, he felt more at ease than he had in months.

Because his quirk was free and loose and everyone else in the room looked so fucking confused. Like they had no idea what was going on.

Like they just forgot what was going on.

And then the heroes arrived. How they knew to be here was anyone’s guess.

Purpled should probably give his statement.

Purpled was probably in shock though. So he forgave himself for shoplifting and not pulling his quirk back in. For just walking right out of the store and down the street.

Nobody shouted at him or called him back, so he assumed they forgot he was there.

He wished he could forget he was in the store for that moment too.

—

There’s a lot of other little things that lead up to Purpled being a vigilante, but those things don’t matter as much.

He drops out. It’s not hard to make people forget he even went to school.

He regularly breaks back into school to steal tools and materials for his projects and just wipes the people who walk in on him doing that shit.

Makes a costume but scraps it and decides to make several replicas of the top twenty’s costumes.

Because he’s realized that the wider he makes his range the less of an effect his quirk has on all those in range. Vice versa.

So the pro gamer move here is to make people forget what they saw the person in the pro hero costume doing instead of trying to make them forget they saw an unfamiliar figure doing shit.

Memory is reconstructive after all. Easily manipulated even without a quirk like his.

And he’s good at making his costumes and altering his appearance.

He probably won’t always do a good job wiping people’s memories though, so he lets it stick that there’s a vigilante that impersonates pro heroes. One that constantly shifts their appearance.

He even gets bold and makes a name for himself.

Swag_.

...

Listen he didn’t say it was a good name-

—

He doesn’t stop a lot of crime. And the people he does save often think they were saved by someone else.

But there’s always that one moment after he managed to save someone where they look at him. And they see him.

And that’s worth everything.

It’s not a selfless motive. It’s not a heroic motive.

But it’s enough of a motive for Purpled.

—

He doesn’t know how he got a following. Doesn’t know how he never noticed.

But he likes it. After the initial shock of seeing himself trending fades, he lets himself soak up all the positive attention.

And then he gets back to work.

#text post #lore post #ask purpled and blued #vigilante!purpled #purpled #purpled bedwars #superhero Au #gun mention #tw gun mention #ask to tag #long post #not proofreading this one

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puppy-phum · 4 years ago

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2020 – a (content creator) year in review

I decided to make this into a mix of these two games I was (kinda?) tagged into so thank you for @leonzhng and @tiesanjiao ♥ I hope you don’t mind me doing it like this ^^ all the questions were just so interesting that I wanted to try!

(bc of the amount of questions, I’m placing them under a cut so that I don’t flood anyone’s dash)

(this is the 2020 year in review that hanyi tagged me to ♥ sorry am so late!)

Top 5 Movies you saw this year

wow tbh I didn’t watch many movies this year as I realized yesterday when I was thinking about this for certain reasons. Or at least I feel like I didn’t watch that many? Nothing really stuck with me it seems.

Because of this, I will only mention two: Parasite and The Old Guard. Those were both wonderful in their own ways and I’m very happy I got to watch them both ^^

Top 5 TV shows you watched this year

this one is difficult bc I watched so many (and forgot even more?) but:

The Lost Tomb Reboot (my introduction to DMBJ. this drama stole my heart and helped me through the tough autumn semester!)

Joy of Life (it’s nuts that this happened during 2020? it feels like it was ages ago)

Kingdom (such a positive surprise and I really hope we get more of this :o I really recommend!)

Detective L (easy, nice aesthetics, amazing costumes. Bai Yu was a delight as Luo Fei)

Sand Sea (I am still baffled by how much I loved this bc I had so many doubts? am happy I did tho)

Bonus: Guardian (bc it has come to stay and the rewatch has been so emotional but so rewarding)

Top 5 songs of 2020

this is a tough one too bc I’ve heard so much new music during 2020 but I will try to put it simply:

Black Swan by BTS (I absolutely adore this song. I listened to it on repeat when it came out at the beginning of the year, I have cried for it a ton, I enjoy every stage I see for it and it’s just a masterpiece. it has also helped a bit with my writing struggles that I’ve felt creeping up on me lately)

Always by By The Coast (an amazing song that always leaves me in my feels. inspires me a lot all the time)

Love me or Leave me by DAY6 (this whole album was a masterpiece and I listened to it on loop for like. two weeks? this was my favorite song on it even if I adored the rest too, especially Zombie)

all of my life by Park Won (listened to this a lot in relation to my xicheng and the wedding I finally got to write for them ;; that’s one good thing that came out of this year tbh)

雨人 by 刘畅 (Liu Chang) (with the Reboot’s ending song, this one is my favorite on that ost. I love Liu Chang’s voice, I loved Liu Sang as a character and as I said, I loved Reboot as a drama. I get super emotional about this ost so I think it defined this year a lot for me)

Top 5 books you read in 2020

All For The Game -trilogy (listened to these as audiobooks but that counts right?)

The Song of Achilles (as an audiobook too and really adored the reader’s voice)

The Smoke Thieves -series (I really just binge read the two first books in this series and am so excited for the next one!)

Call Down The Hawk (love love love)

Guardian novel (am not very into these novels usually but I was positively surprised this time? it was so cool to finally get the original story and compare it with the drama version)

5 positive things that happened in 2020

joined mdzsnet and met all the amazing ppl there and got to become part of this loving community and :’) I’m so thankful, it’s been a joy

learned more about editing? or started doing it regularly. I still can’t do shit but am having fun learning more all the time and I really hope that maybe the upcoming year I can switch to PS and try out giffing?

went to Halsey’s concert! it was in february so a bit before all the hassle with covid happened over here ;; it was super cool and so nice and I just. I love Halsey

fell into the DMBJ hellhole which am very much enjoying. it’s a great universe and the story is so good and the dramas have been so fun to watch and. it feels like a good continuation to The Untamed somehow haha (also brought me a new friend! you’re amazing ashen!! ♥)

started therapy and it’s been... a journey. but towards something better I think? it’s something I would’ve needed ages ago but it’s better late than never I suppose

My Creations

(this is the other part where ali was being super sweet and mentioned me ♥ thank you for being so awesome!)

1. first creation and most recent creation of 2020: wow it’s been a while since I’ve looked at this horrible creation but here ya go jkdhgk [x]. I’ve come a long way from this (and my xicheng has come a long way from this too). most recent one is this xiaoge edit that I absolutely adore [x].

2. one of your favorite creations from 2020: this wwx edit that was part of my agust d2 edit series [x]. I loved to give him blue instead of his typical red.

3. a new style you tried this year and a gifset edit that uses it: this [x] wwx edit which I don’t know if I like or not but I was playing around with the font and all the effects instead of just normal screenshots + coloring. also I just adore the quote.

4. a creation to be proud of: I could mention that xiaoge here but in addition, I will also say this wu xie edit for reboot [x]. I managed to capture my vision so well, I was surprised. for cql, this songxiao edit [x]. I loved how it turned out in the end.

5. a creation that took forever: this wangxian edit [x]. like I’ve said several times, I lost sleep bc of it. I just kept struggling with the third pic and how to place the text there D:

6. your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: this lwj/wangxian edit [x]. I had many ideas for this edit when I first started making it and I never managed to capture my vision in the way I first intended... the pictures I was supposed to use just never fit quite right sigh. I dunno why it was this one that gained all the notes in the end bc I personally think I have better ones too but am still thankful :’D

7. a creation you think deserved more notes: as said, dmbj fandom on tumblr is very small so I really want to say the two already mentioned ones (wu xie and xiaoge) and then my pingxie edits [x] [x]. also these wwx edits which I personally am very happy about [x] [x]. and from my agust d2 series, this yun bros one [x].

8. a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: really just dmbj this year and I’ve already linked all of my creations for that :’D tho I have plans for another pingxie edit and a liu sang edit! oh and maybe I could mention guardian here with this shen wei [x]. I had so much fun while making it (also the quote just haunted me relentlessly until I gave it a moment).

9. a creation you made that breaks your heart: this must be my easter islanders (lwj and jc) edit [x] that just. awoke many thoughts in me? I’m going to put a link to the version where you can read my ramblings underneath :’D

10. a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: my creation for the creator (gif?) challenge that was going around! [x] it was simple and nice to do and I loved the result. also, it was nice to work with jl for a change :’)

11. a favorite creation created by someone else: oh wow ok so this is going to be rough bc I have so many favorites ;; you can look at this post here [x] to see more!

but to love my two taggers am going to say these [x / x] [x] [x] [x] [x] by hanyi (I always love your edits, the colors you choose, the thoughts you put into them (and your humor too!). there are so many cool things you’ve done that I just stay in awe of! I adore all of it ;; ♥) and these [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] by ali (I love all of your gifsets so much, they have such pretty colors and such good scenes, and I am thankful every day that you make all the amazing dmbj content, pls never stop ;; I should go through all of your creations properly one day! I noticed you have sand sea stuff too and let me scream?) ^^ ♥

12. your favorite content creators and blogs that you appreciate: this is going to be a huge list and I’ve already made my love heard for some but no hurt in doing it again so @i-am-just-a-kiddo @ashenwren @tiesanjiao @kholran @lzswy @englishbunnyrocks @leonzhng @aheartfullofjolllly @yibobibo @inkblue-black @cross-d-a @bloody-bee-tea @fytheuntamed @mdzsnet @lifegoesmon @creeds-eagle @underaswift-sunrise @sarawatsaraleo @lan-xichens @mylastbraincql @wangxianbunnydoodles @manhasetardis @distantsnows @ohsehuns @minmoyu @linglynz @highwarlockkareena @yiqiie @aowyn @alienwlw @wangxiians @kingbadcat @sassyassassy @tytangfei @lanzhannnn @skzmxtp @leoyunxi @yoonqiful @softjeon @rapbabenamjoon @ronan-adam @miyakuli @pavusdorian @arsuf @brolinskeep @gawincaskeyy and so many others! (sorry for all the random ppl on this list that I’ve never even talked to ^^’ just know that you make my dash a wonderful place! ♥)

I won’t tag anyone separately here but everyone who’s already been tagged or sees this is free to do this (or link me posts if you’ve done these already!) ♥ have a nice day everyone!

#tag game #wow this took ages #am sorry am late #thanks for tagging me tho!!#i enjoyed this a lot #about me

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crazytwentythrees · 3 years ago

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GUESS WHO'S PLANNING ON A REVISED EDITION OF MY ANTHOLOGY, EVERY WHY HAS A WHEREOF?!?!?!?

That's right, I AM!! I am also definitely not unable to figure out how to keep writing BLS, but dw I do want to finish writing because the book means a lot to me personally (but also, like I said when I went on hiatus, I want to give you guys a good book, not a half-assed version of it).

AnYwAy, back to the poetry. Here's some basic info about the revised edition:

Will it be the same poems? Definitely, the main stuffing is all the same, only with a couple of extra poems (bonus, yay!!) and some shorter ones I don't like (like 2-3 of them) will be removed.

Can I read the deleted poems? Of course! An unedited version of my anthology is free for you to read here on Wattpad.

What's the difference between the original and the new version? In short, the main difference will be the reformatting and severe editing (with the knowledge I didn't have when I first published it). Also, I'd like to make the book a little smaller. I'm not sure if many of you are aware of this, but Amazon's self-publishing platform only offers certain standard sizes for books, and well, my 6"x9" book is probably the smallest I can go. That being said, I am considering reaching out to Amazon Publishing and some other publishers to see if they can help with this "downsizing" of sorts. Realistically, I know printing a smaller book has a 50/50 chance of happening, but it's definitely something I'd like for the revised edition.

When will the revised edition be published? This depends on the "downsizing". I hope to get the edits done in the next month or so, but a good part of the reformatting process is dependent on whether or not I get to make the book a smaller size. If not, then you'll have a semi-brand-new 6"x9" poetry anthology for you to cart around and annotate to your heart's content!

Will it look the same? For now, I intend to keep the cover the same, BUT if I work out something I like (since I design my own covers), then I will definitely consider changing the cover. The font will be different for sure, same as a whole lot of other formattings in the original version (reformatting, yay!!). Another thing I've been brainstorming is GRAPHICS!!! If you've read the first few chapters of BLS on Wattpad, you'll know about the banners I made for POV changes. I want to try some stuff like that for sure, so you'll definitely be seeing some cool changes ;)

Why are you republishing/publishing a revised edition? Ooooh boy. So the story is, when I put together all these poems and published them with Amazon KDP (which is a self-publishing platform), I had very very very little experience with the writing world, much less the editing and publishing world. The anthology was sent in as a submission for Amazon's Pen to Publish program, which is how I found out I could self-publish in the first place. But the main thing is, I put together the entire thing, formatting and all (minus writing a majority of the poems, which I'd done in the few months before), in about a month. Long story short, it was the definition of a rush job. So now I'm nearly three years older, a little wiser (I hope), and I want to put in the time and work that I know my 13-year-old self deserved when she first started writing, and the knowledge that my 14-year-old self didn't have when she self-published.

I think that's about it, but if any of you have anything else to ask, my inbox is definitely open. I hope you'll all love this new edition (once I get it out for you to read) and I'd absolutely love it if you have any extra feedback from the original!!

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nikki-writes-stuff · 5 years ago

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Beauty in the Blood - Part One

Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined...

Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader

A/N: This story is based off of this post! I hope you guys enjoy; this is my first time writing Loki, and this will probably be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. Please let me know what you think as the story progresses!

Warning: This chapter contains hints of smut and GRAPHIC descriptions of death and murder. Later on, this fic will also include rape/non con, dub con, kidnapping, yandere/obsessive elements, and even MORE graphic descriptions of death and murder. Please read at your own risk, and as usual, this is only for the eyes of those 18 and older. Thank you, and enjoy!

It was hard to find a decent guy these days. New York was the city of dreamers, artists, and absolute weirdos, and out of the three, you only seemed to attract the latter. You’d been to speed dating events and Singles Night at your local bar, but there was never a connection, never a spark, and every guy seemed to have something fundamentally wrong with him. It wasn’t that you were looking for the perfect guy, it was just that you’d met too many who were demanding, controlling, or misogynistic.

You’d given up on finding your special someone a year after you’d moved to the city. After all, being single wasn’t too bad. You could do what you want whenever you wanted without having to think about someone else. So what if you didn’t have anyone to kiss on New Years? So what if you cried a little every now and then from feeling so alone? It was fine. It was absolutely fine, you told yourself. Fine, fine, fine…

“I’m absolutely fine, Wanda. I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy.”

You were sat across from your good friend, who was stirring her coffee with one hand while she tapped her fingers against the table with the other. She arched a skeptical eyebrow at you before taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re right; you don’t. But you’re lonely,” she pointed out. “A boyfriend would help with that.”

There was no denying that she was right. Wanda was perceptive, and she was also one of your closest friends. You’d met her during your first week of living in New York, and she’d helped you adjust to living in such a busy, fast-paced place. She probably knew you better than you knew yourself, and that was why you slumped in defeat and threw back the last gulp left of your mimosa.

“God, you’re right,” you bemoaned. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know,” she grinned. “But don’t worry; I can help.”

“Wanda, not that I don’t appreciate your effort, but the last guy you sent me out on a date with got mad that I didn’t put out after he paid for my dinner. I don’t want to go on any more blind dates.”

She winced, reaching over to pat the back of your hand.

“I had no idea Kyle was like that,” she promised you. “If I’d known he would be such an asshole you know I wouldn’t have set you up. But I wasn’t going to suggest another blind date.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“What did you have in mind, then?”

She grinned and reached into her purse, fishing around until she found her phone.

“I heard of a new dating app that made me immediately think of you,” she explained excitedly, pulling up the website and passing her device over to you. “It matches you with people in your area based on your Google searches!”

“Pfffft.” You scoffed, taking a quick glance at the screen before looking back to your friend. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.”

“I know, I know, it’s a strange concept. But it has one of the highest success ratings out of all the dating websites! It’s only been around for six months, but over half of its users say that they’ve found someone they can see themselves spending the rest of their lives with!”

“Statistics can be made up, you know,” you groused. “Besides, one look at my browser history would send anyone running in the opposite direction.”

“Maybe not someone who has one similar to yours,” she pointed out. “C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Wanda, you know what I do for a living, right? I could match with some kind of serial killer!”

Your friend just waved you off and ordered another coffee, picking up her phone again and stuffing it into her pocket.

“Just try it? Please?” she begged. “Just give it a shot, and if it doesn’t work out, then that’s that, right? No harm done.”

Several hours later, and you found yourself sitting on your couch, staring at the same website homepage that Wanda had shown you. You bit your lip, letting your fingers skim over your laptop’s keys, not typing anything just yet but feeling their ridges as you considered the “Join Now” button.

There wouldn’t be any harm in it, right? Just like Wanda said, if you hated the kind of people you matched with, then you could always delete your profile. And you didn’t only search things for your research, after all; you also googled recipes and cute animal videos. What if you matched with a gorgeous guy who’d also googled “Try Not To Laugh – Kitten Edition”? Hell yeah.

After taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you clicked on the button, making quick work of filling out the ‘About You’ information. Five minutes later, you’d chosen a profile picture and linked your Google account to the website, and you were ready to sift through your matches. The wheel on the screen turned slowly as your computer processed the information, and you actually jolted when it dinged with the results.

Well. Result. There was only one person who’d shown up with a similar search history as you. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, and you almost closed your laptop and went to retreat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from your fridge, calling it a day and forgetting the whole debacle. But then you saw his profile picture and… Holy shit.

He was lean and pale, and your eyes were immediately drawn to his long, black hair. He had it slicked back in the photo with just one strand hanging down over his left eye. In the photo, he was wearing an exquisitely tailored black suit with a black shirt and tie underneath it, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along the lithe contours of his body. He looked as if he were carved from marble; you almost started drooling just from the sight of him.

You jumped again when your computer dinged for a second time, and your eyes widened when you saw that you had a new message in your inbox. With fingers that were just barely trembling, you opened it, skimming over the message from the man you’d paired with.

Good evening. I must admit, I was quite surprised when I got the notification that we’d matched with one another. I’ve had this profile for about four months, and I’d had yet to be paired with anyone.

So he was handsome and eloquent. You clicked on his profile and blinked when you saw his name. Loki Odinson. Wow. Even his name was refined, if not a little strange; it sounded like a name you’d give to one of the characters in your books.

Hello, Loki, you typed out. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was pretty surprised to find someone else who has such a twisted search history. I don’t know if I should be happy or concerned.

It only took him a few moments to reply.

The feeling is mutual; I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for the morbidity, though. Mine is that I happen to be a coroner for a living. And yours is…?

I’m a writer, you explained, your interest piqued by his profession. I write murder mysteries. So, yeah… Morbidity seems like a fitting way to describe it.

A writer, you say. I happen to be quite an avid reader; would I know any of your work?

I’m not sure; have you ever heard of The Bell Ringer? That’s probably my most well-known book.

You’re kidding.

He sent you a picture, and it was of a pale hand holding a copy of The Bell Ringer, your name glistening in bold font beneath the title.

I’m a great fan of your work, as you can see. I own several of your novels.

Another photo loaded beneath the newest text, and it was of a shelf full of your books. The Shrew Woman, A Night in New Hampshire, The Hanging Woman – nine books in total. The only one that you’d written that wasn’t there was the one you’d just sent out to your publisher, and you suspected that once it was out in stores, it would be joining the ranks of Loki’s shelf.

Wow! It’s always so nice to meet a reader. I’m so glad you like my stuff!

Oh, love, you’re a huge talent. I must say, I’ve found your work rather inspiring.

That’s so kind of you to say!

I know that this is rather forward, but are you doing anything tonight?

You glanced up at the clock you had hanging on the wall – 8:13 pm. It was already pretty late; typically you’d be putting on your pajamas and curling up in bed to do some late night reading here soon. But something inside of you whispered that you should do it; you weren’t spontaneous enough. What if this was an opportunity to meet the One? At the very least, it would be cool to meet such a loyal reader.

It depends on if this guy I’m talking to online asks me out. Do you think he will?

He would have to be a fool not to. I suspect he’ll ask you if you’d like to meet at a café.

Well, then, I suspect I’ll have to say yes.

An excited grin was plastered over your lips as you bantered back and forth, and when Loki sent you an address and a message saying ‘I’ll see you there in twenty minutes’, you jumped off of your sofa and rushed to put on your shoes. You were still dressed in the leggings and oversized sweater you’d worn to brunch with Wanda, and all you had to do was straighten your hair and pull on your boots before you were out the door. The address he’d sent you was within walking distance of your apartment; in fact, you’d been there before, but never on a date.

Your heart was pounding the entire way over, and you couldn’t get over how unlike you this was. You didn’t just get up and meet guys you’d met on the internet on such short notice, much less so late at night. And yet here you were, stepping into the café fifteen minutes after receiving Loki’s message. Your eyes scanned the room, but it appeared that he wasn’t there yet. As you got in line to order, you tried to calm yourself, not wanting to look too frazzled when your date finally showed up. You tried to even your breathing, twisting the fabric of your sleeves between your nervous fingers.

He’s just a person, you told yourself. You’ve been on dates before; everything was going to be fine. Nothing bad was going to-

“Hello, there.”

You gasped and turned around, eliciting a chuckle from the man now towering over you. He was dressed in a set of black trousers with a simple white button-down tucked into them, and his hair was loose and falling around his shoulders. His grin was wide and full of teeth, with just the slightest sinister edge to it. But his eyes were warm and twinkling with excitement and just a hint of mischief. Those clear blue irises brought a smile to your own lips, and you chuckled along with him at your initial fright.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk in,” you explained.

“It’s quite alright,” he assured you, offering his hand. “I know you already are aware, but I’m Loki.”

You grinned and introduced yourself, going to shake his hand, but he smoothly cradled your fingers and drew them up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” he cooed, seemingly all too aware of how flustered you now were.

You opened your mouth to say something in return, but you couldn’t think of anything to say as silence lay heavily between the two of you. You were saved, though, when the barista called out to you, asking if she could take your order. You spun around on your heel and shot her a grateful glance before ordering your favorite menu item and reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“…And I’ll have a cup of Earl Grey,” Loki stepped in, handing her a card from his open wallet.

“Oh, I could have paid for mine,” you protested, but he waved you off.

“No, no, love. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a tight, close-lipped smile, and you didn’t protest further as he paid for your orders. He led you to a booth in the corner, sliding into the side opposite to yours gracefully. The leather squeaked against your thighs as you shuffled in, and when you were finally settled across from him you caught a flicker in his eye that sent chills up your spine.

It was gone in an instant, though, replaced by the same suave look he’d had while ordering his tea.

“So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “As I said before, I’m a fan of your work. Truly, I have been since your very first novel.”

“’Beauty in the Blood’?” you asked incredulously. “I’m surprised; no one seems to like that one. After reading it, my mom suggested that I start going to therapy.”

Loki chuckled, licking his lips, and your eyes followed his tongue of their own accord.

“Ah, well, whether or not that’s true, it’s still my favorite of your works by far,” he continued. “The parts told by the killer’s perspective were…beautiful. You captured his mind so artfully, it was as if…”

He paused, searching your face for a moment.

“It was as if…you understood him,” he finished.

You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking over his words. He’d skipped right over the small talk you’d come to suspect on first dates, but despite how strange of a direction the conversation was taking, you were…intrigued by it.

“Well,” you started, “I feel like I did understand him. I mean, sure, he took delight in the killing of others; he saw it as an art form. But as twisted and evil as he was, he was still a person – a person that had come from my mind. Cuz the thing is…”

You paused, gathering your thoughts and trying to find the right words to convey them.

“The thing is,” you spoke carefully, “that every storyteller uses bits and pieces of themselves to tell a story. A story is like a stained glass window – it’s made up of different pieces of an author’s mind and soul, and it comes together to create something greater than the sum of those pieces. So, yes, I think I can understand him; his darkness might be a reflection of my own – deep, deep down.”

You glanced up at him, blinking when you saw the transfixed look upon his face. His eyes were wider than they had been before, and his lips were parted as he listened.

“Sorry,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I, uh… I got a little carried away. You probably think I’m some kind of freak-“

“I think you’re beautiful.”

His words took your breath away, and when the barista set down your cups on the table, you jumped in surprise.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” she asked cheerfully, and a flash of annoyance crossed over Loki’s face at the interruption.

“We’re fine,” you assured her quickly, giving her a polite smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome!”

You gripped your mug tightly as she walked away, savoring its heat as it warmed up your cold hands.

“So,” you said, desperate to break the sudden silence that had fallen over the table, “you mentioned that you’re a coroner. What drew you to your profession?”

Loki sipped his tea, humming as he thought over the question.

“Well… The conversation has already veered towards the darker side of things,” he mused. “I might as well tell you the story.

“When I was twelve years old, my sister killed herself,” he began.

“Oh, Loki, I’m so sorry-“

“Oh, no, don’t be,” he interrupted. “We weren’t close at all. I was adopted at a young age, you see, and Hella never accepted me. She was cruel, and she took every opportunity she could to remind me of my inadequacies.

“But, as I said, one day she died. At first, we didn’t know how it happened; there were no marks on her body whatsoever. She just looked like she was sleeping as she lay there in bed. We called the hospital, and the police, and eventually the coroners discovered that she’d injected bleach into her arm. Later on, my mother found the syringe under her bed, and all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. We finally knew the how and the when, and I never really cared much about the why.

“…That probably makes me sound like a monster, doesn’t it?”

You sat back, swallowing a scalding-hot sip of your drink before answering.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “I don’t think that makes you a monster. She abused you; it’s only natural that you found some relief in her death. I would’ve probably felt the same way.”

He studied you for a moment, tracing the lip of his cup with his index finger.

“I wonder if you would have…” he murmured to himself, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it.

“Well,” he sighed, plastering a smile on once more and straightening up, “you probably aren’t going to be very keen on a second date if I keep dragging our conversation into subjects like this. Tell me, where are you from? What made you move to the city?”

“How do you know I’m not from here?”

“Love, neither of us have the New York accent, now do we?”

You laughed, and after that the two of you fell into an easy flow; it seemed that the heavy beginning of the date made it all the easier to talk to him. You discussed what you liked about the city and what you didn’t like; you learned that Loki was originally from a small town right outside of London, and that he has an adopted brother named Thor that he was close to.

“He’s an oaf,” he’d said when you’d asked what his brother was like. “Everything about him is literally the opposite of its coinciding part of me. But…he loves me; he never thought of me as the adopted child. I was always just his brother; despite his shortcomings, I think he does mean well. Besides, his IQ level is in the single digits, so I’m afraid I must look out for him for fear of what would happen if he were left to his own devices.”

From there, you shared stories about growing up, about life and ex partners and mistakes and successes. Before you knew it, the happy barista from before was approaching your table again, this time with a nervous smile.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted. “I’m so so sorry to bother you, but we’re closing up…”

Loki glanced down at his watch as you glanced at your phone – 10:30.

“Shit,” you laughed. “I had no idea. Time flies…”

Your date shot a glare at the barista before his eyes flickered to you. He gave you a wide, close-lipped smile and straightened his collar, raising his eyebrows.

“Then I suppose it’s time for us to head out,” he murmured. “May I escort you home?”

“Oh! Of course. If it’s not too far out of your way…”

“Even if it is,” he smiled, “I still want to walk you home.”

Your heart fluttered, and you set a five dollar bill on the table as a tip before standing up. The barista scurried away, and you almost turned to apologize to her for Loki’s cold shoulder. But you didn’t know him well yet; maybe that’s just how he was. Maybe he didn’t mean anything by it.

“You guys have a good night!” she called out after you, and you smiled over your shoulder at her before reaching for the door. Loki’s hand darted out and grabbed the handle before you could, opening it for you with a slight bow.

“After you, my lady.”

“How chivalrous.”

The two of you walked side by side down the street, hands brushing as you strolled down the sidewalk. You glanced upwards, smiling at the scattering of stars overhead as your breath fogged in the chilly air. You shivered, rubbing your arms a little bit to ward off the chill. Loki evidently caught the movement, and you felt his arm drape around your shoulders. You leaned into the warmth of his body, tilting your head up to share a grin with him.

“Again – chivalrous.”

He chuckled, squeezing you for a beat.

“I try my best… It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as you, but…very pretty.”

You laughed and hid your face in his neck.

“Stop… You’re too charming.”

“Oh, really? I was under the impression there was no such thing.”

The two of you fell back into a companionable silence as you guided him towards your brownstone, until he spoke up once again.

“I must say… There’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask you that I’m just…dying to know the answer to.”

“Go ahead, Loki. I’m an open book.”

He laughed softly again, hesitating before voicing his question.

“If you were to kill someone, how would you do it?”

You paused, thinking over your response.

“Well… Why am I killing them? Is it a crime of passion or a crime of necessity? Am I killing them just for the enjoyment of it, or out of revenge, or because the person needs to die for a bigger cause?”

“That… That is actually an excellent follow-up question,” Loki mused. “Let’s say… A crime of necessity. The person needs to die for a personal reason with no anger or revenge in mind. How do you do it?”

You bit your lip, calling to mind all of your morbid Google searches that might apply.

“Um… Air shot between the toes,” you finally said. “Fill a syringe with air and inject it between their toes while they sleep. It’ll look like a heart attack that way.”

Unbeknownst to you, warmth suddenly bloomed in Loki’s chest, and you glanced up just in time to catch the fond, almost…loving gleam in his eye. He quickly looked away, tilting his head up to look at the stars, but you’d caught it. And it wasn’t that it unsettled you; you weren’t uncomfortable because of the look. You were uncomfortable because you hadn’t been upset by it. You’d felt that same flutter once again as butterflies batted around your rib cage.

Nothing more was said as you turned the corner that led to your street, and you silently ascended your home’s steps with Loki’s arm still around your shoulders. You reluctantly slid your key into the lock, only turning to him once your door was opened a crack.

“I had… A really good time with you, Loki,” you told him, craning your neck to look into his eyes. “I know that this isn’t what you’re supposed to say to a guy after a first date; I know that it might scare you away. But I want you to know that I haven’t felt this way in a long… Actually, I’ve never felt this way. And it’s really scary, but I hope… I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

Loki’s eyes softened, and he moved his arm from around your shoulders to your cheek.

“I haven’t felt his way, either,” he murmured. “But I know that I don’t want the feeling to go away.”

He was leaning forward, his eyes closing, and your heart leapt into your throat as you met him halfway. His lips were cold, and smooth, and soft as they pressed against yours, and you leaned into his touch when he pulled you closer by your hips. A sound escaped your throat as his tongue darted out, licking past the barrier of your mouth to glide itself against yours. His hands came up to cradle your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against your cheekbones as your lips moved against one another, and you hummed once again as your chests pressed together.

You don’t know who pulled away first, but you spent a moment just taking in one another’s essence, your foreheads pressed together as the fog of your breaths mingled. You heard Loki let out a chuckle, and you looked up curiously.

“What is it?”

“I’ve just…” He licked his lips and let out another soft laugh before pulling away.

“I’ve just never felt like this before,” he repeated.

You smiled and pressed a peck to his lips before walking towards your door again.

“Have a good night, love,” he called after you, and you paused in the doorway to blow him a kiss.

“You too, Loki.”

You shut your door, missing the way his gaze darkened as he stared at the façade of your building.

“Oh, I will, darling. I will.”

__________

Loki hummed to himself, the leather of his gloves squeaking as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The silver of the table gleamed under the fluorescent lights of his basement, and the air was musty, thick with the smell of iron…and decay. Instruments and tools were lined along the wall in front of him - knives, machetes, a hatchet… It was cliché; he knew that. But he just hadn’t been able to resist the temptation while designing this special room.

A muffled scream sounded from behind him, and he rolled his eyes before turning back to the perky little barista who was currently strapped down to another metal table he’d “borrowed” from the hospital morgue.

“Are you honestly still trying to scream for help?” he snarked, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’ve told you; you’re currently under about five feet of solid concrete. Who will hear you? Who will help you?”

The girl let out a sob, and he watched her big blue eyes flicker to the wall just over his shoulder before coming to rest on him again. They were red and swollen, and he let out a coo of false sympathy.

“Oh, don’t worry, little girl. None of these are for you.” He grinned, turning back to the table behind him. “You can thank my new lover for that. No, she inspired me to take a different direction this evening.”

A small, genuine smile came over his face as he picked up the large syringe, turning it over in his hands.

“She’s been inspiring me for a while, actually,” he mused, ignoring the screams as he sauntered over to his victim, syringe in hand. “She’s such a brilliant writer, my darling is. It truly was fate that brought us together; if I’d had known that my favorite author was a beautiful young woman who also lived in Manhattan, well… I’m sure I would have found her sooner. But I won’t dwell on lost time; I’ll just have to make up for it.”

He ran a hand over the girl’s knee, trailing it down her shin even as she struggled against the strong ropes twined around her wrists and ankles. As his hand gripped the arch of her foot in an iron-like hold, he let his eyes close. This was always his favorite part – the moments right before death. The anticipation was like foreplay; it got him just as hot and eager, and the payoff was very nearly comparable. If he were ever asked to describe the feeling of ending another person’s life, of ripping out the remaining chapters from their story before it could be written, the only thing he’d be able to compare it to was an orgasm. That white-hot pleasure that flooded his veins was addictive, as was the lead up he was experiencing right now.

“You know,” he mused, slowly drawing back the plunger of the syringe, “my girl is so smart… Not a lot of people would think to off someone like this. But it’s not as easy as you would think; you can’t just use any old syringe. It has to be big, has to be a lot of air. And you have to be careful; if you hit muscle, it won’t be fatal, and the whole endeavor would be for naught. But if you hit a vein, and if you get a big enough pocket of air…”

The duct tape on her mouth did little to quell her scream as he inserted the needle into her flesh. A novice might not be able to find a vein, especially not in a foot, but the years of medical school paid off, just as they did every day at his job. He injected the empty cartridge into her vein, groaning and letting his eyes drift shut. He was slow about removing the needle; the separation of steel from skin was slow, intimate… Gentle.

“Hush…” he whispered, drawing out the word with a hiss. “It’s done now, love. It’s done.”

He let his arm fall to the side, and he took a step back, watching the girl start to settle down as he put some distance between them. He gently set the syringe down onto the table before crossing the room to the armchair in the corner. Letting out a soft grunt, he lowered himself into the seat, crossing his legs and letting his head fall back.

“Fuck, what a day,” he sighed. “This isn’t what I was expecting when I woke up this morning.”

Loki lifted his head and gave the young girl a wry smile.

“As you may have guessed, this isn’t my first time doing something like this,” he began. “But I do try to limit myself. I may take…five victims a year. Maybe six or seven if I’m particularly stressed. My last one was on New Year’s, though. I’m not due for a killing for another few months, but… That girl really had me going.

“I was hoping that she’d invite me in tonight,” he confessed. “Though I wasn’t expecting it. It was our first date, after all. But a man can hope, can’t he? If she had invited me to stay the night, you wouldn’t be here right now. Alas, though… I had all of these pent up feelings that I had to do something with. And you were so…obnoxious back at the café. I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine with your disgusting, overbearing cheerfulness or if it was as fake as your blonde hair. But, god, did it get under my skin…”

The girl let out a sob, and he noticed that she was beginning to shake. He chuckled, feeling himself grow hard in his trousers as he thought of you. You’d come up with this idea, this beautiful, drawn-out murder. Such a sweet, innocent looking girl on the outside. But such delicious, pure wickedness within.

“Fuck,” he huffed, palming himself through his pants. “Despite the nuisance you made of yourself, today was so perfect… She’s the One, you know. The one and only girl who can ever complete me. I didn’t even believe in this sort of thing this morning, but for the first time in my life, I’m glad I was wrong.”

He forced himself to still his hand, moving it to his knee as his jaw clenched. In the past, he’d done this in front of a few of his victims; male or female, if they were pretty, young things, the act of killing them made him so hard that he had to touch himself as he watched them squirm on his table. But not tonight, not after you. That part of himself was only for you, now, and he was strong enough to resist the urge until his was the only heart beating under his roof.

And so he sat back and watched. At first, the girl only shivered, and after thirty minutes he was afraid that he hadn’t injected enough air into her. But then he noticed the way she was breathing; it was like she was a fish out of water, and the slope of her furrowed eyebrows betrayed the pain she was in.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, voice thick. At first she didn’t answer, but then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. He hummed in understanding, hiding his grin behind his hand as he scratched his chin.

“How marvelous.”

He knew she wouldn’t last long when her skin started to turn blue. After an hour, the seizures began, jolting and shaking her body as if she were a ragdoll. He watched in fascination, his cold, blue eyes never leaving her tied-up form. Soft, strained whimpers were leaving her throat, and he let out a purr as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

His joints popped as he stood up, and the heels of his shoes clicked against the concrete floor as he rounded the table, making his way to her pretty blonde head. He slowly, deliberately pulled the duct tape away from her mouth, and he chuckled at how blue her lips had become.

“This is a much better look on you,” he observed. “This is so much more real than those saccharine smiles.”

She finally went still 84 minutes after the injection. Even after her heart stopped beating, he stood over her, watching the unnatural stillness of her chest. Despite all of the corpses he’d created over the years, and despite the years he’d spent in his profession, it was still something that he’d never gotten used to. People weren’t supposed to be that still; people were supposed to blink, and smile, and talk, and breathe, but the things they became after death did none of those things. They didn’t move, and they didn’t feel, and there was always a moment of disgust when he first laid eyes on a fresh corpse.

But it passed quickly, even quicker than normal tonight. The disgust faded away and left behind pure, unadulterated lust as his thoughts strayed once more to you. Typically, he would stay behind, lingering in the basement to dispose of the body. Sometimes, if he wasn’t too tired, he would actually drive out and deposit them in whatever spot he’d predetermined to be the one the police were to find them in.

But tonight, he left the corpse there on the table. He flicked the lights off and climbed the first, then the second set of stairs, peeling off his gloves and petting his cat on the way to his bedroom. He showered, then combed his hair, then settled down between his silk sheets completely naked. Then, and only then, did his hand travel down to his cock, and his mind once again, indubitably, trekked back to you. Your face, your voice, your beautiful fucking mind…

The thought that finally made him cum was the picture of him fucking you in a pool of blood on his basement floor, of the bright crimson painting your skin as he let his hands worship your body. The thought followed him into his dreams, ruby red and throbbing to the beat of his heart as he slept deeply into the night.

_____________

Detective Romanoff stood side by side with her partner in front of the dead body, hands planted firmly on her hips as she chewed her lip.

“How old did you say she was?” she asked the coroner, her eyes flicking down to the rope burn on the woman’s – the girl’s – wrists and ankles.

“Twenty,” was Dr. Odinson’s accented reply. He turned around, glancing between the two detectives before taking a deep breath and turning his attention back to the body. “I’m afraid that there won’t be much investigating for the two of you to do here. The cause of death was a heart attack, pure and simple.”

“A twenty year old girl having a heart attack?” Detective Rogers scoffed. “I think you got your wires crossed, there, Loki.”

Natasha watched as a muscle in the coroner’s jaw twitched, and he let out a frustrated huff as he peeled off his medical gloves.

“Detective, this sort of thing happens all the time – freak accidents that can strike even the healthiest of people. They are…unfortunate, but they’re also a fact of life.” He tossed the balled up gloves into a trash can and whisked past them, bending over to type something into the laptop resting on his desk as he continued speaking to them.

“After reviewing her medical records, I found out that her father died two years ago from a heart attack; if I were a gambling man, I would say that a bad set of genes were the only culprit here.”

“What about the marks on her wrists?” Natasha asked. “They gotta mean something, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Loki smirked, cutting his eyes over at her before straightening up. “It probably means that little Miss…” He paused, glancing down at a paper resting beside his computer. “Miss Allison Berry was into bondage before her untimely demise.”

“A woman is lying dead, Odinson,” Rogers spat. “Show some respect.”

Loki raised his hands up in surrender as he sauntered towards them.

“I apologize if I offended you, Detective,” he replied coolly. “I meant no disrespect. But I’ve run all the tests in the book. There were no signs of sexual assault, no signs of foul play. I’ll type up a proper report for the two of you, but I’m telling you now – the girl died of a heart attack.”

Natasha and Steve shared a look before turning back to the doctor.

“Have the report ready for us before the end of the day,” she ordered, patting Steve on the shoulder and gesturing for him to follow her as she made her way out of the cold morgue.

“Whatever you say, Officer.”

Natasha froze mid-step, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck bristle as a thousand images flashed through her mind after hearing him say that word. She gulped, oblivious to the confused look Steve was giving her, and she kept walking without turning back around.

“It’s Detective, now, doctor.”

The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off Loki’s dark chuckle as he was once again was left alone with Allison Berry’s body. His smile didn’t fade as he pulled on another pair of gloves; if anything, it grew as he finished the young woman’s autopsy.

“I was being honest with them; you know that, don’t you?” He winked at the girl’s unseeing eyes, his hands moving of their own accord as he stitched up the clean line he’d cut through the skin, bone, and muscle of her chest.

“It was just a heart attack.”

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki imagine #serial killer au #serial killer!loki #dark!fic #dark!loki

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tigerkirby215 · 4 years ago

Text

5e LeBlanc, the Deceiver build (League of Legends)

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

Fuck the Rose fuck the Rose fuck the Rose fuck the Rose fuck the Rose fuck the Rose fuck the Rose fuck the Rose fuck the Rose fuck the Rose...

My Rell main side is screaming “Fuck the Rose” on repeat but someone on r/WhatWouldYouBuild made a thread about LeBlanc and I’m actually pretty proud of the response I gave them. It was a fun build to theorycraft and I want to share my work, even if I have no real interest in LeBlanc as a champion. Though granted while I was writing this build LeBlanc was revealed in Legends of Runeterra, which is interesting in its own right.

But maybe I’m lying to you? Maybe I’m actually a Mastery 7 LeBlanc one-trick who’s going to min-max the shit out of this build? I mean probably not, as I have stated several times that I main both Kayn and Yuumi. But I might be?

GOALS

It's all smoke and mirrors - One midlaner is already one too many. Two midlaners? Now that’s just crazy talk!

Classic misdirection - How can you hit an enemy when you don’t even know where they are? If you’re everywhere at once you can be sure that no one will stop you.

Watch closely - If you pull back the curtain you can make all sorts of magic tricks. Sometimes you can even do them twice!

RACE

Want some innate magic to spy on people and be everywhere at once? Well a good man named Van Richten may have exactly what you need from the land of Ravenloft. There’s plenty of spooky UA going around and the Hexblood can do more than just parlor tricks! As a Hexblood you get a +2 to an ability score of your choice (increase your Charisma to manipulate people) and +1 to another ability score (Dexterity will help you dodge skill shots while wearing fine clothes.) You can also choose your size (you’re a Medium “human” duh) and learn a language of your choice. (Pick your fancy.)

As a Hexblood you get Darkvision of 60 feet and Fey Resilience so the charmer can’t be charmed. You also get both Hex and Disguise Self added to your spell list, and can cast each one of these spells once for free thanks to Hex Magic.

But of course what we’re really here for it the ability to give people a Magic Token to spy on them. As an action you can create a Magic Token (it says you have to take your teeth out but personally I’d reflavor it as giving them a black rose.) If another creature is holding the token you can use an action to send a telepathic message to the creature, as long as you’re on the same plane of existence and are within 10 miles of it. The message can contain up to twenty-five words. (So it’s basically Sending.)

In addition, while you are within 10 miles of the token, you can use an action to enter a trance for 1 minute, during which you can see and hear from the token as if you were located where it is. While you are using your senses at the token’s location, you are blinded and deafened in regard to your own surroundings. Afterward, the token is harmlessly destroyed. You can only make one token per long rest. It’s not clear if the old token disappears when you make a new one so discuss that with your DM.

IF HEXBLOOD ISN’T AN OPTION: A Changeling would also work well for LeBlanc, and give you more trickery and utility with the ability to Disguise Self at will. If all else fails a Variant Human with either the Eldritch Adept (take Mask of Many Faces as your Eldritch Invocation) or Fey Touched feat also works.

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - To lie and deceive you need a face that anyone could trust. Perhaps many faces?

14; WISDOM - To know how to manipulate people you need to understand them first. Wouldn’t want anyone lying to you, now.

13; DEXTERITY - Your outfit isn’t exactly heavy armor. (But if you want you can wear Medium armor!)

12; INTELLIGENCE - You’re technically ancient. Knowing how to control a nation in secret takes some tactics.

10; CONSTITUTION - You’re a squishy mid-lane mage.

8; STRENGTH - You’re a squishy mid-lane mage.

Feel free to swap Wisdom and Constitution if you want more health but worse roleplay.

BACKGROUND

Always remember that no power is built without someone pulling the strings. The Courtier background from the Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide gives you proficiency in Persuasion but since we can get Insight from elsehwere take Deception proficiency instead. You also get proficiency with two languages to deceive anyone you please.

Your background feature Court Functionary makes it easy for your way to weave yourself into the system. The background flat out says “You know who the movers and shakers are, whom to go to for the favors you seek, and what the current intrigues of interest in the group are.” Which is pretty much perfect for LeBlanc.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - FIGHTER 1

Here’s a shocker eh? Put simply Constitution saving throws are nice. So is proficiency in Insight (told you we’d be getting it elsewhere) and Acrobatics.

Fighters of course get a Fighting Style but believe it or not LeBlanc isn’t going to be swinging a sword around much, so grab Defense to be just a little sturdier. While your early levels may be weak you do at least have Second Wind for a bit of lane sustain.

LEVEL 2 - BARD 1

Time for the real meat and potatoes; masters of Charisma it’s time for Bard! Bards get proficiency in a skill of their choice at level 1 and you know what would probably be useful for a mage? Arcana proficiency.

You also get proficiency with a musical instrument to cast your spells: pick your fancy and see if your DM will let you use a staff instead.

You can also help those who are important to you with Bardic Inspiration, letting you give your allies a d6 to add to an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw. Manipulate important people from the shadows.

But of course the main appeal of the Bard class is access to Spellcasting. For your cantrips Friends is good to make friends you don’t mind losing, and Vicious Mockery will let you whisper dark secrets to weaken your foes. For leveled spells Detect Magic will help you know if there’s any secrets others are keeping from you, Dissonant Whispers will let your enemies know that you know their deepest fears, Sleep will help you get away, and Illusionary Script is a fun non-combat spell I get to recommend since LeBlanc isn’t all about fighting.

LEVEL 3 - BARD 2

Second level Bards get Jack of All Trades, letting them do a little bit of everything. They also get Song of Rest to pretend to help during a Short Rest, giving allies an extra d6 to heal with.

You can also learn another spell from the Bard list like Identify to know what you’re getting into.

LEVEL 4 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get to choose their Bardic College, and there are whispers in Noxus about an organization that’s trying to overthrow the nation from the shadows. That organization forming their very own College of Whispers! As a Whispers Bard you can instill Words of Terror into someone. If you speak to a humanoid alone for at least 1 minute, you can force them to make a Wisdom saving throw at the end of the conversation. If they fail they’re frightened of you or another creature of your choice for 1 hour, unless it is attacked or damaged, or until it witnesses its allies being attacked or damaged. If the target succeeds on its saving throw, the target has no hint that you tried to frighten it, and you can only use this feature once per short or long rest.

You can also instead form your Bardic Inspiration into Psychic Blades. When you hit a creature with a weapon attack you can spend a Bardic Inspiration die to deal 2d6 extra Psychic Damage. I’d recommend carrying a Rapier around to spike anyone who gets close to you with Psychic Damage.

You also get Expertise in two of your skills, and naturally we’ll become masters of Persuasion and Deception. And to top it of you can learn a second level spell like Mirror Image, which was added to the Bard spell list thanks to Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything!

LEVEL 5 - BARD 4

4th level Bards get the first Ability Score Improvement of the build: Fey Touched will let you increase your Charisma by 1 and also gives you the Misty Step spell and a first level spell from the Enchantment or Divination school. Command will let you further force your foes to do as you please. You can cast each of these spells once for free per Long Rest, and they’re added to your spell list to cast with spell slots!

Speaking of spells you can one more leveled spell, and one more cantrip! Message will let you stick to team chat (and will also let you whisper to those who aren’t your teammates), and Suggestion will let you manipulate foes in the middle of battle!

LEVEL 6 - BARD 5

5th level Bards see their Bardic Inspiration increase to a d8, which also increases your Psychic Blades to 3d6. That’s good because Font of Inspiration makes your Bardic Inspiration come back on a Short Rest, instead of a Long Rest!

You can also learn a third level spell but unfortunately we’re still chained to second level, taking Hold Person for LeBlanc’s like Ethereal Chains.

(Artwork made for Legends of Runeterra by Riot Games.)

LEVEL 7 - FIGHTER 2

Back to Fighterman to get the abilities we actually want: Action Surge will let you Mimic a spell and cast twice in a round. Be sure to talk to your DM if they will allow Action Surge to allow two leveled spells to be cast in a turn with Action Surge.

LEVEL 8 - FIGHTER 3

Third level Fighters get to choose their Martial Archetype and man wouldn’t it be cool if there was a Fighter that could create illusions of themselves and teleport to them? The Echo Knight from Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount enables a lot of weird builds, doesn’t it? Regardless there’s a bunch of bullet points to know about your illusions:

Your illusion has AC 14 + your proficiency bonus, 1 hit point, and immunity to all conditions. If it has to make a saving throw, it uses your saving throw bonus for the roll.

On your turn, you can command the illusion to move up to 30 feet in any direction (no action required). If your illusion is ever more than 30 feet from you at the end of your turn, it is destroyed.

As a bonus action, you can teleport, magically swapping places with your illusion at a cost of 15 feet of your movement, regardless of the distance between the two of you.

When you take the Attack action on your turn, any attack you make with that action can originate from your space or the illusion’s space. You make this choice for each attack.

When a creature that you can see within 5 feet of your illusion moves at least 5 feet away from it, you can use your reaction to make an opportunity attack against that creature as if you were in the illusion’s space.

Tl;dr you can swap places with your illusion, and you can use it to bonk but not to cast spells. You can also Unleash Incarnation for an extra attack from your illusion’s position a number of times equal to your Constitution modifier, but if you can’t tell we won’t be using that much.

LEVEL 9 - WARLOCK 1

What if I told you there was a secret organization forcing me to put Warlock levels in all my builds? It would be a lie, but I fooled you for a moment didn’t I? Regardless Warlocks are unique because they get to choose their patron at level 1, and man wouldn’t it be weird if the being of manipulation and darkness was influenced by a god? The Celestial patron gets two Bonus Cantrips at level 1: Sacred Flame and Light, just in case you need to pretend that you’re the good guy.

You also get a pool of Healing Light die equal to 1 plus your Warlock Level. You can use a Bonus Action to expend a number of those die equal to your Charisma modifier (which FYI basically means that you can use all the die however you please) on a creature you can see within 60 feet. (FYI: you can see yourself.) Each die is a d6, and the creature gets to heal for whatever you roll on said d6s.

But what we’re really here for is Pact Magic. You learn two cantrips from the Bard list: Booming Blade will let you put a little more thunder into your weapon if you choose to try to make use of Psychic Blades, and Eldritch Blast is Eldritch Blast which will let you blast while you eldritch.

The main reason for the Celestial Patron is Guiding Bolt, which will serve as Sigil of Malice. You can also grab Charm Person to make friends that you want to keep.

LEVEL 10 - WARLOCK 2

Second level Warlocks get Eldritch Invocations and Agonizing Blast will let you agonize your blasts to be extra agonizing. I mean seriously you should’ve expected this. Beyond that Eldritch Mind will help you keep up your rouse in the heat of battle, but feel free to pick any other invocation that you fancy.

You do learn another spell and I mean... Comprehend Languages might be helpful to manipulate Shurimans?

(Artwork by Choe HeonHwa. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 11 - BARD 6

Hey how about we get that ability to be whoever we want? When a humanoid dies within 30 feet of a Whispers Bard they can use Mantle of Whispers to capture their shadow and use it as a disguise. You can use your action to assume the disguise, which lasts for 1 hour. While you’re disguised, you know all information that the humanoid would freely share with a casual acquaintance. You also have a +5 to Deception checks while in the disguise. You can only capture one disguise per short rest, and all your disguises disappear after a long rest.

You can also learn another third level spell like Enemies Abound, instilling paranoia in a target so they can’t tell friend from foe. And when you think everyone’s an enemy, who do you fight?

Oh and you get Countercharm to help those around you against the fear of the Black Rose. Can’t have your puppets distracted.

LEVEL 12 - BARD 7

7th level Bards can learn 4th level spells like Dimension Door to be everywhere and nowhere at once.

LEVEL 13 - BARD 8

8th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement and yeah we already got a half feat, but how about another one? The Actor feat will help you fool anyone who doubts you.

You can also learn another 4th level spell like Confusion, to leave a whole room guessing as to where you’re hiding.

(Artwork by Sangsoo Jeong. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 14 - BARD 9

9th level Bards see their Song of Rest increase to a d8 so they can keep young and beautiful. You can also now learn 5th level spells like Mislead for a double that acts while you’re nowhere to be seen.

LEVEL 15 - BARD 10

10th level Bards see their Bardic Inspiration increase to a d10, which also increases the damage of Psychic Blades to 5d6. They also get Expertise in two skills like Arcana and Insight, to know all about people and the magic they might posses.

But of course the main appeal of the Bard class is their Magical Secrets... shame there honestly aren’t that many I particularly want. Hold Monster will be a good way to chain up any monster champion that Riot might be planning to release, and Destructive Wave can cause quite the distortion in the area you’re at before you teleport away.

You can also learn another cantrip like Prestidigitation, for the more simple magics you’ve been lacking until now.

LEVEL 16 - BARD 11

11th level Bards can learn 6th level spells like Programmed Illusion for a clone that walks like you walk, talks like you talk, and may or may not disintegrate into chalk.

LEVEL 17 - BARD 12

12th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement. Time to max out that Charisma and truly get into people’s heads. Telepathic lets you increase your Charisma by 1 and also speak telepathically, so you can keep in team chat at all times. But most importantly you learn the Detect Thoughts spell, and can cast it once without a spell slot.

You don’t get any Bard spells but feel free to replace Message with something like Mage Hand, seeing as you basically have Message permanently on.

(Artwork by Sperasoft Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 18 - BARD 13

13th level Bards can keep the greatest illusion up: the one that Song of Rest being a d10 somehow makes the ability more useful.

You can at least learn 7th level spells, and to keep the Grand General off your tail Symbol is the perfect trap. The spell has a bunch of deadly effects that you can set up so I recommend reading the full spell over to see what it does.

LEVEL 19 - BARD 14

14th level Whispers Bards know all your secrets. As an action, you whisper a phrase of Shadow Lore that only one creature of your choice within 30 feet of you can hear. The target must make a Wisdom saving throw, though it automatically succeeds if it doesn’t share a language with you or if it can’t hear you. On a successful saving throw, your whisper sounds like unintelligible mumbling and has no effect.

On a failed saving throw however the target is “charmed” by you for the next 8 hours or until you or your allies perform an aggressive action against it. It interprets the whispers as a description of its most mortifying secret; while you gain no knowledge of this secret, the target is convinced you know it. The “charmed” creature obeys your commands for fear that you will reveal its secret. It won’t risk its life for you or fight for you, unless it was already inclined to do so. They will grant you favors and gifts as if you were a close friend.

When the effect ends, the creature has no understanding of why it held you in such fear. You can only use this feature once per Long Rest.

You also get two more Magical Secrets, but honestly I want spells from the Bard list more. So take Etherealness and Forcecage for tricks to keep anyone at bay and enter anywhere you please. But of course feel free to take spells you personally enjoy, as I don’t control you. Yet~

LEVEL 20 - BARD 15

15th level Bards see their Bardic Inspiration increase to their max of a d12, which also means that your Psychic Blades feature increases to 8d6.

You can also learn an 8th level spell, and there’s a lot of great 8th level spells on the Bard list. But Antipathy / Sympathy (thanks Tasha’s!) is a great way to get who you want where you want them. Pick a creature type: if you make them apathetic, they will feel an intense desire to leave if they get close. Alternatively if they’re sympathetic they’ll want to come stay. This effect lasts 10 days, so it can be a great way to get all the right people in the right place

FINAL BUILD

PROS

For my next trick I'll make their life bar disappear - Even if a good majority of your spells are based off tricks and deception you’re still extremely deadly to face. You have nearly full caster levels which means many deadly tricks to cut through entire armies.

For a moment I thought I'd broken a sweat - So it turns out that a few levels in Fighter go a long way. Medium Armor is more than enough to keep yourself safe, and in combination with the Defense fighting style and a shield you’re actually surprisingly tough to hit. Add in all the mobility provided by both your magic and your echoes and you can be out of sight before they even have a chance to attack you.

Would I lie? - You are a master of getting people to do what you want. +17 to Persuasion and Deception, tons of spells to make lying easier, and of course your Whispers Bard and Hexblood features to turn anyone into a new set of eyes and ears

CONS

Lying is, like, ninety five percent of what I do - A few too many feats means you’ve got pretty much nothing in any stat other than Charisma. A pretty face and Jack of All Trades only gets you so far, and it would probably be good if you could actually back up some of the things that you’re saying.

Patience, summoner - Speaking of stats: dumping Constitution is never good, and while it’s not necessarily “dumped” it’s still rather low. You’ll likely have around 100 health by level 20 which isn’t much for Power Word Kill. Just saying a Zhonya's Hourglass (or preferably an Amulet of Health) would definitely be a good pickup.

Right where I want them - Whispers Bard has some great abilities but the level 3 ability expects you to hit people with a weapon, which you really aren’t good at. I could suggest alternatives like getting the Shillelagh cantrip (either as a Bard Magical Secret or from the Warlock class by taking an extra Warlock level and the Pact of the Tome) but truthfully I’d much rather play LeBlanc as either a Eloquence or Lore Bard. Hell possibly even a Glamour Bard if you swing that way. Whispers Bards are great at the political side of things but if you want a more combative midlaner a different Bard might be better.

But the one pulling the strings should ideally never be in the fight to begin with. Leave your enemies either guessing or dead. Manipulate a nation and prepare them all for the horrors that would destroy them if they knew the truth. At least two of which you caused in some way: look, nobody’s perfect.

(Artwork by Francis Tneh and West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

#dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends LeBlanc #the trickster #the deceiver #dnd bard #illusion #trickery #Tumblr #no #ToS #plz

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xiaomoxu · 4 years ago

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MLQC CN Lucien (Xu Mo) Nostalgia Date

SPOILER AHEAD!!

PART 1

MC: Sweet and sour short ribs, black pepper beef tenderloin, boiled cabbage soup are also cooked, complete!

I checked the recipes in the phone while checking the dishes in the bento box.

Recently, Xu Mo's research institute was working on a new project, and he stayed in the research institute for several days and did not go home.

I studied several new dishes in my spare time, but I never had the opportunity to try it with him.

So I took advantage of the rest day to cook and made a bento. Of course, I was able to see him out of selfishness.

I happily took a few certified photos of Bento, and marked “Professor Xu’s Love Bento” on the photos in a beloved font.

When I was about to go out, I received a text message. When I opened it, I saw that Xu Mo had sent it to an unfamiliar address.

MC: ?

Was it the wrong message? I dialed Xu Mo's phone with doubts.

Xu Mo: Did you receive the address?

MC: Yes. Where is this?

Xu Mo: This is where I am now.

Xu Mo: I guess you will come to me for lunch.

MC: ?

MC: How did you know?

Xu Mo: Because...

Xu Mo: Black pepper beef tenderloin, sweet and sour short ribs, boiled cabbage heart.

MC: ...Xu Mo! Are you working on a mind reading project?

His light laughter came from the other side.

Xu Mo: This project sounds very interesting, but you seem to forget my research field is brain science.

Xu Mo: If you want to know the answer, you can open the photo album now.

When I hung up the phone, I opened the phone album in a busy time, and a buffering icon appeared in the middle of the screen.

After a few seconds, my album was automatically updated with a photo I had never seen before.

The photo shows an exclusive courtyard with wooden log door frames and a red brick wall. At the foot of the wall, a row of old-fashioned labor tools are displayed.

In the middle of the yard is parked a 28-brand bicycle, and the simple wind of the 1970s blows across.

Under the noon sunlight, a person's shadow was reflected on the wall. I almost recognized it at a glance. It was Xu Mo.

"Ding", the phone received another text message.

Xu Mo: Do you know the answer now?

PART 2

After Xu Mo's reminder, I finally realized that there was a problem with my mobile phone last week, and I needed to verify with another cloud account.

So I temporarily borrowed Xu Mo's account. After the account was restored, I forgot to log out.

In other words, during this period, our mobile phone uses the same cloud account, and the album is also in a shared state.

MC: Isn't it...

On the way to the exclusive courtyard with my lunch box, I asked myself for my carelessness in my heart, and repeatedly checked the "stock" in the album.

Xu Mo must have seen the recipe that I kept in the photo album, and the certified lunch photos taken before the release were not spared.

I sighed, tapped my brain a little, and suddenly reacted.

If our mobile phones have been shared for more than a week, does that mean that all the photos I took this week

I quickly sent a text message to Xu Mo.

MC: Xu Mo, have you seen any other photos in the album?

Xu Mo: For example?

MC: For example, something that impresses you...

Xu Mo: Are you saying that the subject is my photo?

My fingers flicked subconsciously, and Xu Mo's new reply popped up on the screen.

Xu Mo: I forgot to say that next time you can take the photo openly, so that I can take more poses with you.

really!!

I usually secretly took photos of him reading books and doing experiments, and he saw them all!

This crafty man!

When I arrived at the alley where the small courtyard was located, I saw Xu Mo standing at the door of the courtyard waiting for me from a distance. I quickly waved to him.

MC: Xu Mo, is this research difficult? Did you not eat well again?

Xu Mo took the bento in my hand and looked at me with a concerned look, and his narrow eyes were bent.

Xu Mo: It won't be difficult.

Xu Mo: As for whether to eat well...

Xu Mo: If the standard is this bento, then I really can't claim to have a good meal.

He took my hand and led me through the door.

When I stood in the courtyard, the sense of precipitation of the years became stronger.

MC: By the way, Xu Mo, why are you in this place? Is it related to research?

Xu Mo: Well, this research project will be clinical trial here.

MC: This is actually a new research base?

Xu Mo: To be precise, it is a temporary research base.

MC: What about the others in the institute?

Xu Mo: The study will officially start tomorrow, and today we will give them a day off.

MC: It turned out to be so, but how could the research base be chosen in such a yard with a sense of age?

Xu Mo did not answer. He took me to sit down at the square table in the courtyard.

Xu Mo: Based on my understanding of you, after I answer your question, your curiosity will raise more questions.

Xu Mo: So before this heart-filled bento cools down, let's eat first.

Xu Mo: After this, I will show you a good tour.

PART 3

After supervising Xu Mo ate the lunch, he took my hand and walked into the second floor of the courtyard.

The style of the building is consistent with that of the courtyard, and it is even more difficult to tell what era I am in now.

The green leather wall is painted with "work hard" with four big red characters, and the dark gray fur has a light cement smell.

The three classic furniture pieces restore the old texture and the rest of the daily necessities also exude a strong sense of age.

Xu Mo: how do you feel?

MC: Although I haven't experienced that era, it seems to have really gone back to the past.

Xu Mo: The research institute spent a lot of time restoring this place to what it looked like in the 70s.

MC: What you said is even more curious to me. What kind of research is it that you need to construct a venue like this?

Xu Mo: It is a study on the healthy brain of the elderly. For the elderly who suffer from Alzheimer's disease, or who have hidden risks of the disease, perform clinical observations.

MC: I heard that there is no effective medicine and treatment for this disease, is it true?

Xu Mo: Well, Alzheimer's disease can be said to be a serious challenge facing modern brain science research.

Xu Mo: Even this research can only focus on early intervention before the disease, while observing the quantity and quality of brain cells.

MC: So why do you want to restore this place to the 70s?

Xu Mo: If the brain of the elderly is often stagnant, the brain will easily degenerate.

Xu Mo: Recalling the deep things in your own impression can stimulate the vitality of your brain.

Xu Mo: The most impressive experiences of the elderly who will be staying here are concentrated in the 70s, which is the most meaningful time in their lives.

Xu Mo: It is the basis of this research project to stimulate their brains in a familiar environment.

MC: Use memories to wake up the brain and prevent them from getting sick... That's it.

MC: It would be great if more people could know this method.

I looked around and suddenly a flash of inspiration.

MC: Xu Mo! Can I use the lens to record this research?

MC: This can attract more resources to invest in.

Xu Mo didn't speak, and there was a little smile in his eyes when he looked at me.

Realizing that my request was a bit abrupt, I quickly changed the subject.

MC: It doesn't matter if it can't, after all, it involves the confidentiality of research.

MC: But our memories can be recorded with the lens. In this way, when we are old, we have more memory material.

He is still silent, but the smile on his face is deeper,

MC: What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?

Xu Mo: No. If you want to shoot, I can ask the patient's family for their opinions.

Xu Mo: I think they will agree, because what you want to do is also very meaningful.

MC: I thought you would think that my ideas are too bad.

Xu Mo: I'm just happy.

Xu Mo: It turns out that you have planned so far for our future.

After visiting the entire two-story building, Xu Mo took me to the backyard again. In the middle of the backyard was a dense wisteria frame.

There was a breeze in the early autumn afternoon, and the sun overhead was also swept away most of the hot temperature.

The backyard shrouded by wisteria is concealed in a shade of shady vines swaying leisurely in the air, making it particularly cozy.

Obviously this is my first time here, but I inexplicably feel a sense of familiarity (deja vu)

Xu Mo: What are you thinking?

MC: ....It’s weird to say it, but for a moment I felt that this scene seemed familiar.

Xu Mo followed my line of sight and looked at the piece of Wisteria.

Xu Mo: On the scientific level, you have a visual experience.

Xu Mo: But I have a more romantic explanation here--maybe our soul ran out in a dream, and then we met in a yard in the 70s.

He turned his head to look at me, a deep pool of water hidden in his dark eyes.

Xu Mo: Maybe they were there and spent a peaceful life.

His tone was calm and determined, and his words fell in my heart.

MC: Xu, Xu Mo, you lied to me seriously again...

Xu Mo didn't seem to care about my dismantling, there was still light in his eyes.

Xu Mo: If you doesn't believe it, would you like to try it?

MC: try what?

Xu Mo: Had a peaceful dream in the yard of the 70s.

MC: Like our souls, spend a lifetime in a dream?

As expected, I subconsciously believed Xu Mo's words, but the instigator smiled and nodded.

Xu Mo: "Life" is a subjective term. How long a life is is up to you to feel and decide.

Xu Mo: So as long as you want, we can spend our "life" here.

Perhaps I was moved by Xu Mo's romantic theory, or because I hadn't seen him for a long time, I eagerly agreed with this proposal.

MC: Now that you are going to live a slow life in the 70s, let's be more involved!

I took out the headphones and mobile phone and placed them on the stone table in the backyard.

MC: Ask Professor Xu to confiscate these modern contraband.

Xu Mo nodded clearly, and took out the phone as I did.

Xu Mo: It seems we have to find something to seal them in the "future".

He said that he found a wooden box and put all our electronic products in it. Then turned around and reached out to me.

Xu Mo: Welcome to the seventies, little girl.

PART 4

After autumn, the weak and feeble sunlight shone into the window crookedly, like a silhouette painting for us.

And we don't have the mind to appreciate it carefully, we are devoted to the time being slowed down.

Xu Mo seemed to be prepared, and the activities proposed were endless.

He taught me how to light a kerosene lamp and took me to try an old-fashioned sewing machine.

We played the fans leisurely together and listened to the squeaking and squeaking of Suzhou Pingtan on the radio.

Time seems to have really slowed down for us, obviously we have done a lot of things, but the sun outside the window is still mild and bright

After listening to a pingtan, I eagerly looked at Xu Mo

MC: Xu Mo, what shall we do next?

Xu Mo: Is there anything you want to do?

MC: May I decide?

Xu Mo: Yep.I also want to know what you think of a slow life.

MC: um, I...Can't think of it for a while.

Xu Mo: It’s okay, just let it go. Rather than using your brain to think about what to do, it’s better to leave your feelings to your heart.

Xu Mo: The deliberate content does not necessarily conform to the meaning of slow life, the current feeling is the most important.

MC: Then sit on a recliner to enjoy the sun? But is it too plain?

Xu Mo: I think this is a good idea.

After getting Xu Mo's affirmative answer, I also fantasize about me and Xu Mo persevered in the sun together.

But soon my illusion was disillusioned, because we searched the entire yard and found that there was only one recliner.

Xu Mo and I stood under the wisteria frame in the backyard, looking at the narrow lounge chair in front of us.

MC: So... why don't you lie down for a while? Let's take a turns?

The moment I blurted it out, I felt like I had said something silly. I blushed and was about to fight for myself, but he reached out and pulled me into his arms.

Before I knew what he was going to do, Xu Mo grabbed my back waist and gently closed it, and the warm breath of each other instantly intertwined.

Before I could speak with his deep eyes, the center of gravity suddenly fell into a soft embrace.

My gaze moved down slightly, and I found that we were sitting on the recliner at this time, and my legs encircled his body without knowing when.

The large motion shook the recliner, and he shook it slightly. I couldn't find the center of gravity for a while, and subconsciously hooked Xu Mo's neck.

MC: Xu... Xu Mo?!

I struggled to stand up, but Xu Mo released the hands that were fixed to my waist, and I had to tighten the hands around his neck.

There was a warm breath between the bodies close to each other, and the scorching sensation reminded me of the hydrogen above the asphalt road in summer.

Xu Mo: It's boring to be alone in the sun, I think two people will be better.

MC: There is nothing boring in the sun...

Fearing that it would make him uncomfortable, I held on to myself, not to let myself collapse on him.

Xu Mo: You can relax a little. This chair is enough to carry the weight of the two of us.

MC: I, I am very relaxed.

Xu Mo: Is it...

I heard his low and dull noise in my ears, and I hung my head even more flushed.

He stretched out his hand, pressed the knuckles of his right hand against my chin and gently lifted it up,

The next second, a soft and light kiss fell on my lips

I instinctively closed my eyes, and in the sweet silence, I could only hear the buzzing tinnitus in my head.

Although it was only a soft kiss like a dragonfly, time seemed to slow down for this kiss. When we were separated again, it seemed that we had really spent a lifetime.

Xu Mo: I can be sure that you are really relaxed now.

When I blushed and didn't know how to react, Xu Mo's cell phone rang in the wooden box.

As if I had caught a life-saving straw, a carp stood up and rushed into the room, and his laughter came from behind.

MC: Answer the phone quickly! I'll go to the bathroom!

Xu Mo: I know, I'll go back soon.

When I came out of the bathroom, Xu Mo's call was just ended. He saw me coming and waved his mobile phone apologetically at me.

Xu Mo: Sorry. There was a problem with the preparation of the institute, and I needed to return to the institute to discuss it together.

MC: It's okay, you have been with me all afternoon. I'm already very satisfied.

After returning everything in the yard to its original position, I reluctantly took Xu Mo's arm and prepared to leave with him from here.

After spending a day with Xu Mo in the exclusive courtyard, I even felt a little bit reluctant for this place.

Perhaps after seeing through my mood, Xu Mo stopped walking.

Xu Mo: Maybe we can slow down our departure.

Following his gaze, my gaze fell on the 28 bicycle in the middle of the yard.

MC: You mean, can we ride this?

Xu is: It doesn't matter, I can find someone to send it back tomorrow.

Xu Mo stepped forward and patted the horizontal bar in front of the bicycle.

Xu Mo: But this time I still have to feel wronged by you sitting here

I couldn't help but think of our experience of cycling in Canada. At that time, I was anxious to ride the bike firmly, but my hands and feet were frizzy.

Xu Mo: Want to revisit it?

Xu Mo supported the handlebars and the body, his slender and powerful arms supported the bicycle steadily.

I nodded, holding his arm firmly into the "seat"

MC: I won't be as anxious today as I was that time.

After confirming that I was sitting firmly, Xu Mo also stepped on it. He held up his hand and wrapped me in his arms, and there was a reassuring warmth from my back.

MC: Because... I hope this road can be longer.

The white crescent moon took over the setting sun early, and the sunset was like peach-flavored soft candy.

In a busy city, Xu Mo and I were riding a two-eight bicycle that was out of place. The diagonal red stretched our shadows very long.

Accompanied by the two shadows, they swayed towards the next tomorrow.

#mlqc translation #mlqc xu mo #mlqc lucien #mlqc spoilers #cn server #nostalgia date #Lucien #xu mo

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grailfinders · 4 years ago

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Fate and Phantasms #63: David

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making the killer of Goliath and owner of the world’s most famous nudes, King David! Dave’s a Hunter Ranger/Lore Bard for anti-giant tech and sick harp skills. Yeah, it feels kind of weird to have 0 cleric levels in this, but not every religious person has to be a religious class.

Check out the breakdown below the cut, or the build summary over here!

Race and Background

David’s a Human, giving him +1 to all stats. He’s also the classic rags-to-riches story of a Folk Hero, giving him proficiency in Animal Handling and Survival. You were a shepherd after all.

Stats

Your highest stat is your Wisdom: you’re good with animals, and a pretty good king too. Second is your Charisma, you’re likeable, good with a harp, and a good negotiator. Your Dexterity is pretty high too; you killed a giant with a sling, and that weapon’s terrible. Fourth is Constitution, you’re not super tough, but you’re not one to quit early. Your Intelligence isn’t great, humble beginnings and all, but we’re dumping Strength. You don’t really need it, and the toughest thing you have to hit with your cane is the errant sheep.

Class Levels

1. Ranger 1: We’re using the revised ranger for this build. We’re already kneecapping ourselves with our weapon choice, lets not get too masochistic. When you take this class, you’re proficient in Strength and Dexterity Saves, as well as three ranger skills. Insight will help you get the best deals, Perception keeps your eye on your entire flock, and Nature will help you figure out what’s been eating them.

First level revised rangers gain a Favored Enemy, giving you advantage on Survival and Intelligence checks made in regards to one category of creatures. The Philistines are humans, so pick Humanoid. You also deal an extra 2 damage to all attacks against humanoids, which will help make up for the low damage of your weapon. You’re also a Natural Explorer, giving you a number of travel and movement based benefits. You ignore difficult terrain, get advantage on initiative rolls, and against enemies that have not acted in combat. While traveling, difficult terrain does not slow your group, you can’t become lost except through magical means, you’re alert to danger even if you’re doing something else at the same time, you can stealth at a normal pace by yourself, you can forage twice as much food, and you get extra information about creatures you’re tracking.

For your weapon, we are of course using a Sling. You could also grab a quarterstaff to act as your crook, but you’re not going to be that good with it in combat.

2. Ranger 2: When you pick your Fighting Style, choose Archery for an extra 2 points to ranged attacks. Goliath’s a big target, but you really don’t want to miss this one. You also learn to cast spells using wisdom as your casting ability. Animal Friendship will keep your flock in line, or help you keep a lion calm enough to sneak an extra hit in. Hunter’s Mark adds an extra 1d6 to your attacks against a target, and it’s easier to find. If it drops before the spell ends, you can switch it over to another creature as a bonus action.

3. Bard 1: When you move into the bard class, you gain proficiency in one skill and one musical instrument. Grab your Harp and Performance so you can play that secret chord that will please the Lord. But if you don’t really care for music, you also get Spells using your Charisma and Bardic Inspiration, d6 which you can give to the rest of your party, adding them to attack rolls, saves, or checks. You start off with a number equal to your Charisma modifier, and you get them back at the end of a long rest.

For spells, True Strike makes every shot count (though it’s not like you’re wanting for ammunition; you’re literally throwing rocks). Mending will help you patch up that tear in your shirt, Cure Wounds and Heroism will give you a literal harp of healing. Identify is pretty much God telling you if you’ve found any cool stuff. Bane forces a bit of divine intervention on your enemies, making them a bit worse at saves and attacks for its duration.

4. Bard 2: You become a Jack of All Trades, adding half your proficiency to checks you aren’t proficient in. A good king knows a little bit of everything. You also learn a Song of Rest, letting you use your harp of healing outside of the fight as well. It’s a d6, and we’re not sticking around long enough for that to get any bigger.

For your spell, Speak with Animals will let you speak with animals. Sometimes they talked back then, biblical times were cool like that.

5. Bard 3: A big reason we’re hanging around this class is to grab spells from other lists, and no college gets us there faster than the college of Lore. Lore bards get three extra proficiencies: You’re a historical and religious figure, so History and Religion are easy picks, and you’re also pretty Persuasive. You also get Expertise in two skills, doubling your proficiency bonus in them. Performance and Animal Handling are your bag, so you should be good with both of those. Finally you get Cutting Words, letting you spend a Bardic Inspiration to subtract it from a creatures attack, check, or damage roll. You’re not one for heckling, so let’s call this divine intervention.

Your spell this level is another one that’s description is right on the tin, Locate Animals or Plants. It tells you the direction and distance to the closest instance of a kind of animal or plant, if it exists within 5 miles of you. You can’t get individuals, but at least you’ll always get the right species.

6. Bard 4: Use your first ASI to round up your Charisma for more inspiration and better saves, and Constitution for more health and concentration. Your weapon has an effective range of 30′, you’ll want to be tougher than the average archer.

For your spells, Light will help your dumb human eyes see in the dark (technically you’re helping everyone, but nobody plays darkvision right) and Zone of Truth... is really just a very clerical spell to grab.

7. Bard 5: Fifth level bards see your Inspiration bump up to a d8, and you become a Font of Inspiration, restoring lost dice on short rests instead of long ones.

For your spell, Catnap will help you stay rested in the field without letting your flock wander too far.

8. Bard 6: Your last level of bard is the real reason we’re here. Countercharm lets you spend an action to perform a song that gives allies advantage on saves against being charmed or frightened, or maybe even getting possessed by evil spirits. Not actually that last one, sorry. You also learn Additional Magical Secrets, two spells from any spell list, as long as a bard could cast them at sixth level. Guiding Bolt gives you a fancy stone that deals 4d6 Radiant damage and lights up the target, giving the next attack to target it this round advantage. The real start of the show is Magic Stone, which lets you enchant up to three stones as a bonus action, turning them into magic weapons that deal 1d6 plus your charisma modifier in bludgeoning damage. This only affects three stones at a time, and unlike every other damage dealing cantrip, this one doesn’t get better as you level up. At least it’s not concentration.

9. Ranger 3: Back in Ranger Town, you join your conclave. The Hunter Conclave lets you pick a Hunter’s Prey option for extra fighting skill. Colossus Slayer adds 1d8 to an attack you make against a creature with less than max HP once per turn. Giant Killer would have been nice and thematic, but that works with melee attacks, which aren’t your thing. You also have Primeval Awareness, helping you communicate with animals without spells. You can also concentrate for a minute to sense your favored enemies within 5 miles of you. This is where picking humanoids becomes something of a liability. It was great for damage, but now every time you use this feature it’ll be an information overload.

Your new spell, Beast Bond, lets you create a telepathic link with a friendly beast when you can see each other. The beast also gets advantage on attacks against creatures within 5′ of you, making this, weirdly enough, your best melee option at times.

10. Ranger 4: Use your next ASI to bump up your Charisma. Most of your spells are still bardic, and this makes you magic slingstones even more potent and accurate.

11. Ranger 5: You get an Extra Attack, letting you throw two stones per action. With your hunter’s mark active, that’s 4d6+2d8+8(12 if they’re humanoid) Bludgeoning per round, which is pretty dang respectable for an ambidextrous lasso. You also learn Pass Without Trace; your favorite enemy is several times your size; try to get the drop on him.

12. Ranger 6: Speaking of Goliath, sixth level rangers get a Greater Favored Enemy, letting you add Giants to your list of things you want super dead. Your bonus damage ticks up to +4, and you have advantage on saves if they’re caused by giants.

13. Ranger 7: Hunters grab one of three Defensive Tactics. You really don’t back down from anything (Saul had to throw a spear at you three times before you got the hint), so you’ve got a Steel Will. You have advantage against being frightened, which will help you keep your wits about you when you need to break out that countercharm.

You also learn how to create a Healing Spirit, a bit of concentrated healing that you can move around the battlefield to those who need it. Currently it can heal 1d6 four times before it disappears, but you’re getting this spell much later than you would normally, so feel free to upcast it a bit.

14. Ranger 8: You become Fleet of Foot, letting you dash as a bonus action. You have very few melee options, so keeping your distance is a smart idea.

15. Ranger 9: Ninth level rangers get a third level spell. Conjure Barrage lets you create a hailstorm of Sling pebbles to rain down on enemies in a 60′ cone, dealing 3d8 bludgeoning damage. This is barely even a spell, you’re just going absolute ham with that sling.

16. Ranger 10: Tenth level rangers can Hide in Plain Sight, gaining a 10 bonus to hiding as long as you don’t move. Pair this with Pass without Trace to become invisible. Again, stealth isn’t really your thing, but if you’ve got the advantage take it.

17. Ranger 11: Your last hunter gift is your Multiattack option. Volley lets you spend your action to attack every creature in a 10′ radius circle with whatever ammunition you have available. This isn’t as great as it sounds, since you only get three magic shots per turn, but if there’s a bunch of weaker enemies running around, you might as well take them out.

For your spell, Daylight is a beefier version of the light cantrip that will nullify darkness spells. You have the power of god and anime on your side, and a couple of shadows aren’t going to hold you back.

18. Ranger 12: Use your last ASI to bump up your Wisdom for better barrages and tracking.

19. Ranger 13: You get your last spell at this level, and it’s your only 4th level spell. Locate Creature lets you pinpoint the location of a specific creature you’ve seen before within 1000′ of you. I know it’s not exactly fireball, but you’re a shepherd, this is going to be super useful.

20. Ranger 14: Your final level teaches you how to Vanish. You can hide as a bonus action, and you can’t be tracked unless you want to be, or through magical means like Locate Creature.

Pros

You have a lot of skills and features that shine outside of combat, helping your party travel and deal with other people.

You’re not bad as a medic either. Multiclassing left you with some high level spell slots to supercharge your healing when the party really needs it.

You’re really good at demolishing a single target. When everything’s totaled up, you can deal 4d6+2d8+16 per round for less than a single spell slot. Other fighters might be flashier, but you’ll outlast them and keep plugging away round after round.

Cons

You have almost no melee options. You could possibly carry a knife, or have a friendly beast help you out, but really if someone gets close before level 14 you’ll have some problems.

Splitting your casting abilities meant way more of your ASIs went towards making them good, so your nonmagical fighting isn’t very strong. Thankfully your best damage dealing spell is a cantrip. Also, having high level slots is nice, but high level spells would be better.

Using a Sling just isn’t the best option. You can definitely make it work, but even then it eats up your bonus action each turn and limits you to three good shots per round. Honestly this turned out way better than I was expecting-it’s just less effort to use a bow and arrow.

Next up: The second most famous Trojan.

#Fate Grand Order #fgo #D&D 5e #David #Fate and Phantasms

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fanaticit · 3 years ago

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Just hold me for a while

Summary: Izuku has nightmares after being kidnapped, and Shouto comforts him.

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku

Genre/themes: Hurt/comfort, romance.

Possible CW’s:

Kidnapping/Trauma from Kidnapping Fainting Injections (not graphically described in any detail) Pain (not very graphic, and not because of injury or illness) Hallucinations/Visions/Nightmares Moral Dilemmas (character forced to choose who survives an encounter) Death by train (there is a brief description of blood but nothing further than that) Panic attacks/being unable to breathe/anxiety and coping

Word count: 1592

In the movies, kidnappers always used chloroform on a cloth, or put a bag over somebody's head. The victim would struggle, then dramatically pass out and go limp. They'd fall to the floor and wake up in a dark basement, tied to a chair.

It wasn't like the movies, though. Izuku had only been tapped on the shoulder. It was like fainting-- he used to be prone to fainting, and it was still a bit of a problem when altitude or temperature changed quickly.

When Izuku fainted, it wasn't like all the books. All the novels would say "And then everything went black." But fainting wasn't like that. He didn't remember the act of fainting just as nobody remembers the exact moment that they fall asleep. Izuku didn't even remember waking up, he only remembered opening his eyes.

He remembered how bright it was, but when his eyes adjusted, it was actually very dim. He was in someone's kitchen, on a stool. His shoulders were slumped over the counter. Someone had probably set him into the stool and laid him on the counter since there wasn't a backrest.

Peculiarly, he wasn't tied up. At the time he was confused about why they'd leave him free, but he learned why later. There'd been several injections in his arm while he was out. Temporary quirk canceling, and something that made his limbs pliant and tired for days, even after his rescue.

And the other injection. The one that had caused all of Izuku's nightmares recently.

The doctors were pretty sure that the injection hadn't actually caused the visions. It was probably the effect of a quirk, and it just needed a substance to be injected in order to work. That was Recovery Girl's theory. She'd been in charge of Izuku's recovery.

He'd slumped right back onto the counter after opening his eyes, head pounding. He felt burning in his veins. Whatever they'd injected was in his bloodstream, pumping hot needles throughout his body.

Izuku didn't remember fainting again. Like before, he only remembered the slim light between his lashes as he opened his eyes. It was really bright, but it didn't hurt his eyes this time. Maybe that should've clued him in, but it didn't.

It was a railroad track. Izuku knew this track. He'd taken the bullet train here when he was younger, on a trip to see extended family in Kyoto.

He remembered the platform. He'd gotten blueberry flavored bubblegum in tiny packs. He'd also gotten a lemonade from a vending machine, and his mom had gotten a canned ice coffee from a vending machine near the entrance.

There were big doors, and if he'd gone up the stairs, he could've found the entrance. He was on a raised platform between two tracks. The rails came from the same source but broke apart at the platform.

Now that he thought about it... where was everybody? The platforms were usually incredibly crowded, but there was nobody in sight.

And then Izuku noticed the people on the tracks.

On one side of the platform, there were at least a dozen civilians. They were ordinary in every way, all of them complete strangers. It was almost like they'd fallen off the platform onto the tracks, but they didn't seem at all concerned. They weren't speaking, but they looked at each other and sort of... mingled.

It didn't make any sense. Why weren't they getting back onto the platform?

"Izuku."

Izuku saw a familiar face out of the corner of his eye. He turned and noticed someone on the other side of the platform, standing on the tracks nonchalantly. It was... Todoroki? What was going on, and why was he here?

Baffled, Izuku looked from one side of the platform to the other. Well, Todoroki was definitely smart enough to know how to get out of a platform. He was training to be a Pro Hero, for goodness sake. Izuku made his way to the group of civilians. He had to get them back to the platform.

"Izuku!"

A bullet train was tearing towards the civilian's track.

Izuku somehow knew that it was going full speed, that it could kill them all in seconds, but time seemed to slow down. Why weren't they moving? Why weren't they doing anything? And then something appeared in front of Izuku's hand.

It was a lever, with red letters right in front of Izuku, even though it hadn't been there before. It read "divert train" in a loud and bold font.

And suddenly, Izuku understood everything. He'd heard riddles like this before. "Two railroad tracks, and a train speeding towards them. There's a lever, you can choose to divert the train. Choose between a group of strangers or one person you love."

He realized that the civilians were staring at him. They had fear in their eyes. Neither they nor Todoroki were even trying to move.

Everything was clear now. Izuku couldn't even see the civilians or Todoroki very well, but he knew with every fiber of his being that they were tied to the tracks, that they couldn't escape even if they tried to. And Izuku would have to choose.

He was almost positive about his choice. Todoroki had done years of hero training, he could get himself out of this. It was Izuku's duty to save the civilians. He'd just have to trust Todoroki to rescue himself from the tracks.

But then he heard it again. Someone calling his name in the background noise. He realized that somebody had been yelling for him this entire time, and he hadn't even registered it. "Izuku." He knew that voice. Shouto's voice shaking, desperate and terrified.

He froze. He couldn't move. He heard the citizens screaming as the train hurtled towards them. Time seemed normal now.

Half a second passed. "Izuku."

The train was so loud that the screams and death weren't audible. "Izuku!"

The only sign the civilians had been there was the blood over the tracks. "Wake up!"

There was pressure on Izuku's cheek. He jolted, flinching away and gasping for breath. His eyes shot open again. He was... in his room? That made no sense. He was at the tracks. Maybe he'd passed out again? Where were his kidnappers? How the hell had he gone from being kidnapped to being in a railway station to being in his room?

He couldn't breathe. He gasped through his mouth, but the air seemed to slip away from him as soon as he got it.

"Breathe with me, Izuku." That was... Shouto? Yes, there he was. He was sitting next to Izuku on his bed. Izuku felt hot. He couldn't get enough oxygen, his lungs felt like they weren't even taking it in.

He slung his legs out from under his duvet and crawled his way to the floor, leaning against the bed frame and sitting on the cool hardwood floors.

"Izuku, are you alright with being touched?" Shouto said slowly. Izuku kept gasping in air, and it took a moment for his head to catch up to Shouto's question. He gasped out an affirmative and reached out his palm, taking Shouto's extended hand.

Shouto brought Izuku's hand to his chest. "Can you feel my breathing, Izuku?" he asked. Izuku frantically nodded. "Concentrate on my breathing. In, and out. You feel it. Try to breathe with me." His breathing was slow and steady, but Izuku could feel Shouto's heartbeat too, and it was fast.

Izuku tried to match up their breathing. It wasn't working, which made him panic more, which made everything worse. He was disappointing Shouto, he couldn't calm down, he couldn't breathe. Izuku grasped Shouto's fingers with his other hand, lacing them together. He used it to pull himself into Shouto's arms.

"Shouto, I can't. I can't. I don't want you to die, I don't want anyone to die, I can't choose!" he wailed, burrowing his face into Shouto's neck and shaking. "It felt so real. It always feels so real. I haven't got even a night of sleep since that villain's quirk made me imagine all those awful moral-testing scenarios."

"I can't do this, Shouto. I don't wanna sleep at all if I see this every night." He was gasping, and tears were streaming down his face. They were soaking into Shouto's sweater, but neither of them noticed.

Shouto was whispering reassurances into Izuku's hair, holding him tight. "Shhh, love. Just breathe with me, I promise. I'll be here with you every night if you have nightmares. Just let it out, you're doing well." He held Izuku's hands between their chests and squeezed them.

Izuku leaned heavier on Shouto's chest, needing to be as close as he could at that moment. "I just need you to hold me," he gasped. "Just hold me for a while."

"Of course. As long as you need, I'm here," whispered Shouto. They shifted a bit. Shouto turned off the bedside lamp and grabbed a blanket, and Izuku pulled a pillow closer. They shared the pillow, heads next to each other, just holding each other.

Izuku felt the rise and fall of Shouto's chest again when they were next to each other. His breathing slowed after a little bit, and his tears changed into quiet sniffles and a bit of shaking. He occasionally remembered little details of his experience and panicked again, but Shouto just held him closer.

Everything was silent in the darkness, except for the quietest rustle of Shouto's fingers running through Izuku's hair as Izuku fell asleep in Shouto's arms.

#angst #todoroki #todoroki shouto #midoriya #midoriya izuku #tododeku #bnha fanfiction

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newtafterdark · 4 years ago

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Taste of Metal - Chapter 5: Reality Check

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/64305886

Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?

But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the "Metalhead Gordon AU"

PS: This is the E-Bass mentioned in this chapter. !t’s a real beauty, honestly!

- - -

It took Gordon a while to return to the others. For one, he always kind of zoned out for a bit when having a bath… and additionally, the reality of what had happened to him in the past few hours (or days? He wasn’t entirely sure and that unnerved him to no end-) had slowly started to sink in as well.

Zoning in and out of what was his reality now screwed heavily with his perception of the passage of time… and if getting his leg stuck while trying to slip into his comfort PJs and almost falling on his face added a few extra minutes… then that was between him and his checkered bathroom mat.

He rubbed the fabric of his dark floral-print pants between his thumb and pointer finger. It was a comfort thing. Always had been. Just something to help him stay in the moment with the help of adding the sense of touch when everything else was a tad clouded.

His still very much wounded arm was pressed lightly against his chest, the smooth fabric of the worn Nine-Inch-Nails shirt adding another layer of comfort to his current self-care choices.

Gordon hoped the Science Team would not question his comfort outfit… too much. It was just what he needed right now, as silly as the combo of rose-patterned pants & band merch might be.

His long hair was a mess as well. Yes, he had managed to get it clean and untangled most of the messy strands… but man, it was apparent that he needed to fix his undercut sometime. Right now though, he’d just have to deal with the state of his messy (and now also very fluffy post-hand-dryer) mane. Being able to run his fingers through it again and fluffing it up a bit further in the process... was a very nice thing though.

Gordon didn’t really look at anyone when he exited the bathroom and made his way to the couch- only to settle down on the floor, his back leaning against the front of the couch. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you- Do you feel a bit better now, G-Gordon?”, he heard Tommy ask from a few feet away. Gordon managed a soft smile and a nod in affirmation.

“I… yeah, I do. I am exhausted to all hell and back but… yeah. I think I’m actually here... if that makes sense. Don't feel as removed anymore. So… uh… thanks. Everyone.”

He lifted his head carefully, giving himself the time to catch a glimpse of each Science Team member in the room. G-Man must still be around as well, as the man’s ominous briefcase was still leaning against a nearby wall.

The silence that followed was not one of comfort, Gordon could tell. There was an aura of unease and worry in the air. Even from Benrey, who had been seemingly calm previously.

“Guys, I… I still have a lot of questions, not gonna lie. But… first I do want to thank whoever sweetvoice’d my stump. I… I don’t know how to react to my arm actually being gone and frankly….. I am actually freaking out slowly but surely… but still… thanks. Hurts less and all that.”

Gordon jumped a bit as a high pitched noise escaped Benrey, followed by a hiccup and the guard trying to sink further into the bean chair he was sitting in.

“Dude, you don’t have to swallow your Sweet Voice around here. I am way past freaking out about it, believe me.”, Gordon assured him, followed by a short laugh- “It’s actually nice. And helpful. I can fully admit that now, honestly.”

Benrey let out an orb of pink Sweet Voice at that.

“Glad it- that it helps, man. Wasn’t sure if it would... now that we’re all here in... uh, in person.”

Gordon lifted his injured arm carefully, looking the wound over.

“I still have no idea how it works… but yeah, it does help a lot. Again, thanks.”

“Welcome.”

…

Another moment of awkward silence was beginning to start when Bubby suddenly stood up-

“Can we stop with the sulking? Seriously?! We’re OUT! FINALLY! We should be going outside and having the time of our lives-”

“Uh-”, Gordon suddenly looked very alarmed-

“-steal a car! Go on a real goddamn road trip-”

“Bubby-”

“What?!”, the tall man almost hissed out, immediately regretting raising his voice as Gordon curled up a bit into himself at the noise- “M-My apologies. But you get my point, don’t you?!”

Gordon nodded at that, despite shaking a bit.

“I absolutely do! Hearing that you guys were legit locked up for god-knows how long… I would want nothing more than wanting to go outside and explore this world if I’d be in your shoes! It’s just... how aware are you guys of what has been going on on the surface for the past 10 years? Do you… do you guys even know what year it actually is?”

Tommy perked up at that-

“It’s 2020! Not all of us had a good grasp on time, but my dad and I do!”

“Me as well, Gordon!”, Dr Coomer added with a smile- “As much as we as a group had our jokes about Wikipedia, it was basically our only window to the world outside for a very long time. So thanks to it we do know about a lot of things… in theory.”

Gordon let out a short sigh of relief.

“O-Okay, that’s actually good to know- I mean, it sucks that that was all you guys had! But… at least we don’t have to start on nothing.”

“We’ll be perfectly fine dealing with the outside world, thank you very much!”, Bubby threw in, arms crossed.

Dr Coomer reached over and put a hand on Bubby's shoulder-

“Bubby, dear, I can still see us getting overwhelmed with it though. It might not be all new for me, but it is for you! And for Benrey as well. Do trust me that we all need to take this slow.”

Gordon slowly sat up, actually deciding to move up onto the couch, pulling one of his legs under him while stretching the other out.

“Guys… if you want, you all can stay here as long as you want.”, he said, earning himself a collection of surprised looks from everyone- “I know my place is small but… you saved my ass. I want to at least try to even that out by letting you stay for as long as you need.”

He ran his intact hand through his hair again, a few strands falling over his right eye.

“And I know G-Man said not to worry about what Black Mesa might do with you all on the loose now… but honestly, I will sleep better knowing you all are closeby and not in imminent danger. Call me selfish, but I’ve grown to like you guys. And I do care for your chaotic asses.”

Gordon went on, grateful for the patient silence the team graced him with at the moment-

“I need to be upfront about this and not bottle this shit up, so let me be absolutely clear: The shit that happened in the simulation? I do not hold that against any of you. Knowing the context of that whole thing… yeah, it was horrid, not gonna lie- but we all ran on fumes… b-but it was also kinda… cool?”, he added with a nervous chuckle.

“Like, how you all tweaked the code in small ways? It added up to such a chaotic mess that was hella stressful… but really fun to experience too? Like- Benrey!”

“Huh whu-?!”, the guard in question sat up in the beanbag, eyes wide.

“Your no-clipping for bits? Your entire goddamn boss fight?! It was terrifying and So. Fucking. COOL!”, Gordon explained, wildly motioning around with his intact hand and then looking at the others in the room one after the other- “Look, I didn’t really know what you guys’ deal was, along with this being a professional job, so I didn’t really get to talk about all the stuff I get excited about but MAN!!”

The entire gang turned at the sudden sound of a low chuckle coming from the doorframe to the kitchen. G-Man was leaning against it, a soft smile on his lips.

“I… am glad that it wasn’t as traumatizing for you as it could have been, Mister Freeman. I take it, you are quite comfortable with the themes you saw in the simulation, yes?”

He motioned at the walls of Gordon’s living room, causing the man in question to blush and curl up a bit into himself. The Science Team exchanged a few confused glances before taking the opportunity to actually take in Gordon’s apartment properly.

“Look guys, I-”, Gordon started in a slightly defensive tone, before suddenly getting stopped by Benrey’s hand on his chest. Gordon snapped his head up, staring at the guard- whose whole attention was focused entirely on taking in the apartment's aesthetic.

The furniture around them was a wild collection of thrifted items. Wear and tear showed on the dark wooden table and on the clunky shelves on the walls.

Several big moving boxes sat in the corners, stacked on top of each other. It looked as if they hadn’t been moved in months, as if Gordon had not bothered opening them after moving into the place whenever ago.

The couch, beanbag chair and the two additional armchairs had several patches messily stitched onto them. A dresser to the side had been painted with various spray paints… and had a ton of smaller tags written on it with dripping pens at some point.

All his was the base… but what left the team staring with wide eyes were the small decorations of the place. The walls were absolutely plastered with band posters. And not the kind they would have expected from Gordon-

Countless of them had hard-to-read fonts on them, flames, lightning… and the number of bones and skeletons were honestly a bit overwhelming. Especially Benrey, who was now letting out a constant stream of excited-sounding Sweet Voice.

The skeleton theme actually continued with the other decorations around the room as well. Several different skull-themed items sat on the shelves, really putting the room together. And not cheap-looking stuff either! Some of them had a metal finish, others were carved out of wood and a rather big amethyst skull divided Gordon’s decently-sized DVD and Video Game collection.

There was what could only be described as faux-taxidermy all over the place as well. Small bottles labelled with things like “void eyes” and “dragon blood” instantly drew Darnold’s attention.

Dr Coomer ended up walking up to the wall-mounted dragon head with a colour-changing skull in its mouth and just gave it an approving nod.

Bubby, however, was still scanning the band posters until- “GORDON?!”

“Y-Yeah? Wha-”

“YOU PLAY ELECTRIC BASS??? AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?”

Gordon grinned and got up, walking over to where Bubby was standing.

“Oh yeah! That’s my old Fender! Haven’t touched that babe in a good while… probably needs a bit of re-tuning, now that I think about it...”

Bubby shot him a look-

“I repeat: you play e-bass???”

Gordon let out a warm laugh.

“Yeah! Sometimes guitar too, electric and acoustic. Just haven’t really had a reason to in a while.”

A pained expression suddenly appeared on Gordon’s face. “Not like I will again anytime soon, you know?”, he added, lifting his stump.

Bubby waved him off.

“Oh please. Harold told you he has a plan to get that “fixed”. Trust him on that. He doesn’t break his promises. And his work is extremely high-quality and responsive. You will be able to play again with no issue.”

Before Gordon could reply to that, he suddenly felt a hand on his healthy arm, only to find Dr Coomer right beside him.

“Indeed, Gordon! You will have a proper prosthetic arm in no time! Well… I hate to admit that the entire process will probably take at least a full week.”

“Oh! T-That’s still extremely fast! I… I don’t even know how to thank you for that, Dr Coomer. Do you need any specific tools? I think my computer building tools should be around here somewhere-”, Gordon rambled on, only to be stopped by Coomer’s laugh.

“Oh Gordon, don’t worry! I’ll be able to find everything I need with ease! Most of it I already have! I plan on stripping your VR Suit for parts, you see!”, the older scientist explained to him- “You go sit down and let yourself relax and heal. Which is something that needs to happen before I can even think about fitting the prosthetic properly to your arm anyway! I am sure Benrey’s Heal Beam will be of much-needed assistance with that in the following days!”

A loud “HELL YEEEEAH” was heard from the other side of the room.

Gordon chuckled.

“Alright then- uh…. Do you guys want some snacks and get comfy? I think I still have-”

“Mister Freeman… I took it upon me... to get that covered. I hope you don’t mind too much.”

G-Man walked into the living room with a big baking dish and wearing Gordon’s flame-print oven mitts.

“G, my good man, you will never hear me complaining about such perfectly baked Mac’n’Cheese- oh shit, is that sliced ham in there too?”, Gordon stared at the perfectly brown cheese layer on top- “… yeah, you are allowed and encouraged to cook whatever and whenever you feel like it while you’re in my four walls, holy shit.”

“Ah… thank you for the high praise Mister Freeman, but-”

Gordon shot G-Man an unimpressed look, which startled the taller man a bit-

“Alright, Rule Numero Uno of Hotel Gordon: You will be complimented here and you will take it. That goes for everyone here. Yeah, sometimes we will get salty over things, as we have before… but guys, here comes a fun IRL fact about me: I am aggressively supportive.”

“G-Gordon, I am not sure that is needed-”, Tommy stammered out, only for him to slightly freeze as Gordon turned towards him with an intense stare-

“Oh? Wanna test me? Think I won’t say that I still deeply appreciate how you selflessly dragged my sorry ass along when I was too weak to walk on my own? That you had my back in ways that I will be in debt for until the end of my life? You sure??? Absolutely sure?”, Gordon said, grinning and pointing a finger at Tommy… who was now hiding his face behind his hands, letting out a soft “buuuuuuh” sound, followed by a flustered laugh.

Gordon looked at all of the Science Team with an affectionate glint in his eyes. It felt so good to actually be himself around this chaotic bundle of people he learned to care for so deeply.

#hlvrai #hlvrai gordon #gordon feetman #metalhead gordon au #metalhead gordon #benrey #tommy coolatta #hlvrai darnold #hlvrai gman #hlvrai coomer #hlvrai bubby #the premise of this AU finally shows itself #fanfics #fanfic

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melodious-madrigals · 5 years ago

Text

big spoon, little spoon

Prompt fill for @wondertrevnet‘s Lockout Bingo.

Fandom: Wonder Woman Pairing: Diana/Steve Prompt: Fluff Word Count: 3351 Rating: T? (Some really obliquely referenced sexism, I guess.) Summary: 5 times Diana and Steve were disgustingly cute and very happy (+0 times that they weren't because this is fluff). Literally just fluff, Steve & Diana loving each other a lot. Idk what else to tell you. This is part ii of lost love (sweeter when it’s finally found), and you can read the first chapter here.

Find this fic below the cut or on AO3.

***

Notes: Takes place a year or two after Hades deposits Steve in Diana's living room. I'd planned a vaguely angstier fic for my next release, but then I had such a shitty 72 hours that I did not want anyone to feel anything but fluffy, so I rearranged the line-up. please enjoy 3k words of wondertrev being happy and loving each other very much.

***

Even in the modern age, Diana remains partial to keeping track of things the old fashioned way. She has a Google calendar like every professional, of course, but all her meetings are also written neatly in a little diary she keeps; her personal life and JL extracurriculars are also neatly coded and transcribed in their own colors in the planner. She writes grocery lists and to-do lists on spare bits of paper, and takes meeting notes in a leatherbound notebook, unless specifically required to be working on an electronic document. She finds there's something satisfying about seeing the ink in front of her.

Yesterday, for example, she jotted a quick to-do list on a sheet of notepaper, and then tacked it to the fridge, so she'd remember to do items three (water succulents on the kitchen and bathroom window sills) and five (check cream level after Steve finishes his coffee) before she leaves in the morning.

She glances over the other eleven items, mentally ticking off what can be completed today while she's running errands on her way to work, and her eyes land on the last line.

There, scrawled in curling letters under her own tight font, is an addition that certainly wasn't there last night: 14. Kiss your husband.

She smiles. That one she'll have no problem checking off.

Steve's out on the terrace, still sipping his coffee, halfway through a crossword puzzle. She swoops in without warning, dropping a quick kiss to his lips, and then another to the top of his head, before whipping out her list and checking off number fourteen.

"Wait, come back," says Steve, setting down the paper.

"I don't know; I'm having a very productive morning and I've already checked it off," Diana teases. "I might have to move on to other things."

"No fair," he pouts.

"The post office is open already," she continues blithely, brandishing the to-do list. "I should probably go there directly."

In a flash, Steve has leaned forward and snatched the list right out of her hands.

"Steve!" she cries, and lunges for it, but by the time their little scuffle is over and it's back in her hands, 15. Let your husband kiss you is scrawled messily along the bottom.

"Well," she says, smirking despite herself, "if the list says so, I can't argue."

"I'm glad you've seen sense," says Steve, leaning in with a gleam in his eye.

She doesn't manage to tick anything else off before work—ends up rushing not to be late, in fact—but she's always felt it's important to be thorough when completing tasks.

***

ii.

It's rainy and gross, the weather just cold enough that it's unpleasant, but not so cold that the rain has turned into snow or sleet. Unfortunately, it's a Thursday.

When Diana's alarm goes off, she groans, and sticks her head under a pillow, and then pulls the duvet over them both.

"Play hooky with me," Steve says sleepily from next to her.

"I cannot just skip work."

"And how many sick days do you have accrued?" asks Steve, who knows perfectly well that the number is high, because Diana doesn't get sick the way mortals do.

Diana mumbles something from under the pillow.

"What was that?"

"...a lot," she says, grudgingly. "But that would be lying; I'm not sick."

"Mental health days are a thing now," reasons Steve. "And how many projects are due today?"

"You know perfectly well there's nothing big until next Wednesday."

Steve burrows under the duvet, so that they're face to face and hidden from the outside world.

"Are we going to do anything productive?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Yes, I suppose that does sound nice."

"Excellent! I lie for a living. I'll telephone both our jobs."

Steve gets up, and Diana rolls into the warm spot he left behind. She can hear the soft murmur of his voice though the wall, and five minutes later he's slipping back into bed, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"All set."

She snuggles into him, and they fall back to sleep to the patter of the rain.

When Diana wakes up the second time, it's raining harder still, but there's the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Steve's sitting up, still in pajamas, reading.

She must've been more tired than she thought, because it's rare that Steve wakes up first.

Diana blinks back the sleep in her eyes and takes a moment to appreciate the picture Steve paints, with his tousled hair and reading glasses. He looks soft and sleepy and perfect, and suddenly she's extremely glad he convinced her to take the day off.

Steve glances over at her, and looks mildly surprised to find she's awake.

He bookmarks his page with care, and then leans over and grabs a steaming mug that was outside her line of vision, offering it to her.

"I did not even hear you get up to make coffee."

"You clearly needed the sleep," Steve says.

"Maybe." Diana sighs, "I suppose I should not lay in bed all day."

"Then I've got just the thing." He offers her a hand, and she lets him lead her out of the bedroom.

In their living room, instead of the normal furniture configuration, there's a glowing mass of sheets. It seems that Steve has taken it upon himself to make a blanket fort, and has decorated it with a string of lights he must have found at the back of the closet. She really can't believe she slept through this.

"You have been looking at Pinterest again, haven't you?"

"No comment."

"It's lovely."

"There's nothing inside, yet. I thought we could do that bit together."

It's perfect, so she says so.

They pull some cushions off the couch and drag their duvet in too, and all of a sudden, the blanket fort is complete and they have a wonderful little rainy-day nest.

"Breakfast in blanket fort?"

She bites her lip and nods. "But in a minute," she adds, catching his hand in hers before he can move away, and for a moment, they lay on their backs, enjoying the flickering lights.

***

iii.

Diana walks into a massacre.

"What happened here?" Deep red stains cover half the visible surfaces.

Steve looks up, guiltily.

"I spilled cold water on one of the hot jars, and it exploded."

"So just to confirm, none of it is your blood?"

"It's one hundred percent cherry preserves."

Diana breathes a sigh of relief. "That is far easier to fix," she says, slipping her arms around his waist from the back and swooping in to kiss his cheek.

Steve spins in her arms to face her. "It was a rookie mistake. With the amount of jam I've made in my lives, it should never have happened."

Diana sweeps a bit of the exploded cherry preserve off of his cheek with her thumb, and then ducks out of his hold to taste it.

"It is excellent."

Steve grins affably, and rinses both his hands and the rag he's holding. "Good, there are a dozen more jars of it cooling in the dining room."

"Only a dozen?" asks Diana in genuine surprise, because Steve has been known to go a little overboard when it comes to making jams.

"Plus a dozen each of raspberry and blueberry preserves."

"Ahh," she says, nodding. That makes a great deal more sense.

"I already cleaned up the glass, and was going to wipe everything down and start on the peaches. Care to join me?"

Diana knows next to nothing about canning and preserving and jellying, but she missed it last year when the Justice League called her out of town unexpectedly. There's no way she's missing it again this year.

"Tell me where to start," she says, smiling.

"With clothes you don't mind getting dirty, for one. As I've clearly demonstrated," Steve jokes, gesturing at his aproned (and sticky) body.

Diana glances down at her several-hundred euro suit, and then makes for the bedroom. "I'll only be a moment."

"I've got nothing but time!" Steve calls after her, jovially.

When she comes back out—now dressed in an ancient t-shirt that she's stolen back from Steve (after he stole it from her last year) and jeans so soft they're practically threadbare—she pauses in the doorframe, watching Steve. He's mostly mopped up the cherry preserves, and he's humming as he towels up the bit that somehow managed to get on the backsplash.

He's probably been at this for hours, and despite the mishap, he's still in an excellent mood. It makes her smile softly.

He catches her eye just as he hits the chorus of the soft '80s song he's singing, and he pulls her behind the island and spins her around. She laughs and plays along, and they rock back and forth a few times, Diana joining him on the last chorus as he hands her an apron.

"If you want to start pitting the peaches, I'll finish cleaning the pot."

They chat about their days as they work (Diana gets a play-by-play of the events leading up to the exploding jar, and Steve gets a run-down on the passive-aggressive email war she's having with the British Museum), and eventually Steve comes over to help her pit and cut the fruit.

Once everything has been dumped into the large copper jam pot, they turn up the radio and dance around the kitchen to old music, stirring intermittently until the peach compote has simmered down and thickened enough that it's time to jar and let it set.

"That was fun," Diana says, as they finish the washing up. Their dining room table has been completely overtaken by jams and preserves cooling in quaint-looking Mason jars, but it's worth it.

"I'm hoping to make elderberry jam still this year, and apple jelly in the late autumn, if you'd like to join me," Steve says, a dish-towel flung over his shoulder. (It's very cute.)

"It's a date," Diana declares, and she sees his eyes flick to her lips.

A second later, their lips meet, slow and languid, and Diana sighs into the kiss. Steve's lips taste vaguely sweet, a little like the peach jam they'd swiped samples of while they worked, and hers probably do too.

If Steve's lucky, he might be able to steal the t-shirt back yet this evening.

***

iv.

There's tittering outside her office, which—if Diana had been paying attention—would've tipped her off twenty minutes ago to the fact that Steve is here. Her interns are a bit of a gossipy bunch this year, and they've all taken a shine to Steve. (Apparently he's the most interesting thing to happen to the office, and the presence of the seemingly straight-laced Mme. Prince's charming significant other is always cause for news in a way little else is.)

As it happens, she's in the middle of updating the care manuals for several artifacts that are about to be going on loan, and misses all the signs until there's a distinctive tap on her door, and Steve lets himself in.

She's always pleased to see him, and doubly so since he's been away for the past ten days on a mission with ARGUS.

"Hello, my love," she says, and leans forward over the desk to give him a quick kiss, before returning to her paper.

A moment later, she looks up, doing a spectacular double take. "You are home early!" exclaims Diana, moving out from behind her desk to give him a proper hug and another kiss.

Steve laughs, and kisses her a third time, on the nose.

"We were in and out without any loose ends to take care of. It went as smoothly as could be expected."

"I'm glad you're home."

"Me too. Care to celebrate with a quick dinner?"

Diana sighs. "I would love to, but these need to be sent out early tomorrow morning."

"Oh, come on. You need to eat at some point. Besides," says Steve. "I've still got the time dilator we found on mission if you need to get the reports done later."

"Steve," she scolds, although there's very little heat to it. "You are not considering used banned tech just for a little extra time with me tonight."

"To have dinner with you at a reasonable hour? I absolutely am." He looks at her imploringly. "We'll just slip out to the little Thai place you love and be back in an hour or two."

Diana has known she was going to give in from the moment he suggested it, but she still scrunches her face a little. "Oh, all right." Steve's victorious smile is actually adorable, and they pass a lovely couple of hours catching up on the last few days.

They get back to her office around 21h00, and instead of leaving, Steve pulls out his laptop.

"You don't have to," Diana protests. "It's late."

Steve just shrugs. "I need to work on my mission report anyways."

Diana acquiesces, simply because she's not-so-secretly pleased to have the company.

(They only have to use the time dilator once.)

Later, after Diana has everything squared away, they decide to walk home, despite the distance and the hour.

They amble along the Seine, arm in arm. The soft light of Paris never gets old, especially the way the hazy reflections ripple in the river. For all the madness of the afternoon, it's been a good day. Diana leans her head on Steve's shoulder, and they stroll on.

***

Midway through her diatribe, Diana flops down in front of him, and leans against his legs, seeking comfort in her frustration. Steve's hands immediately find her hair, and he gently starts rubbing circles into her scalp as she continues the impassioned rant that began a while ago in the kitchen, "—and it is infuriating, because it is not my department, you understand? The only recourse is to file an official complaint, but that could take ages and ages and until then, they are using an outdated method that could potentially cause lasting damage to the artifacts!"

Steve hums sympathetically when Diana pauses to take a sip (well, a swig) of wine, and he splits a bit of her hair to start braiding as she adds, "These are pieces of cultural history, Steve. They should be treated with the utmost respect so that they last for generations to come to tell our history, and instead Michel is going to keep using a compound that will eventually compromise the integrity of the color!"

Steve knows there's a lot of complicated inter-departmental politics and squabbles that mean there's no good way to address the problem.

"—and the way he treats Sophie!" Diana huffs, a clear indication that they're back to Michel—a frequent source of frustration—but on a personal note this time.

"Hair tie," interjects Steve, and without missing a beat, she flicks one off her wrist and hands it to him so he can finish off the braid neatly.

"It is disgusting, and she does not wish to file a complaint, which I understand is her choice, but it still makes me cringe. I wish he would try it on me, because I would break his—"

Diana's phone pings, cutting her off, and she sags against Steve.

"You know you can keep going," Steve says, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, because the content of the rant isn't funny, but the situation is. Several weeks ago, they'd decided to try cutting back on work talk in an effort to keep a healthier work-/home-life balance, and almost invariably, one of them blows through the artificially-imposed time limit. (For reference, Diana holds more blow-throughs, but it was him yesterday, and the day before.) "You don't actually have to stop just because the timer went off."

"It was my idea," Diana says ruefully, running her hand down the tight French braid, subconsciously checking it, "and I still maintain it is a good plan, I am just—"

"Very passionate about things you perceive to be injustices, big or small, yeah, I know," Steve grins. This isn't anything new.

Diana twists around to face him, and rolls her eyes at his expression. "You love me for it."

"Yeah, I do," says Steve, still smiling.

Diana sighs. "The conversation will still be here tomorrow, and I will probably still be annoyed. There is little use in continuing now."

"Unless you want to rant," Steve points out. "That's valid."

"I do, but it will not actually make me feel better. It is not cathartic if it just makes me angrier," says Diana. "Best to step away."

"Want me to set up a bath?"

"No, just come cuddle with me in bed."

"I'll never say no to that."

"Yes, but you have to be the big spoon this time," Diana says.

"I still won't say no, even if little spoon is by far the superior of the two."

Her ensuing laugh rings through the apartment, and her hand skims along the plait again.

"Almost as good as Selene's," she muses, and Steve takes it as the compliment that it is: Selene is an Amazon friend known for the intricacy and skill of her braiding techniques.

"Okay, one good thing about today?" prompts Steve, once they're curled up in bed. They've begun making it a habit to practice gratefulness each evening before bed. Steve read about it in a mindfulness book, and when he'd mentioned it offhandedly, Diana had immediately been on board. "Other than the fact that it's over," he adds, seeing the look on Diana's face.

"You," says Diana, reflexively.

"You say that every night," laughs Steve.

"It does not stop being true."

"I think it's supposed to be something different, each time. To accumulate things you're grateful for."

Diana grumbles, but does pause to come up with something else. "The magnolia trees I pass on my walk to work," she says, finally. "They are in bloom right now, and they brighten my day."

If Steve could answer you, or even say the little smile on Diana's face as she speaks, without sounding like a hypocrite, he would. "I found a little patisserie up by the Bastille that has these lovely little raspberry pastries."

"Mmmm," says Diana, smiling. "You do love raspberries." Then, after a pause, in a softer voice: "The fact that I get to take little things for granted, now, and pretend I do not have to specify the little things for which I am grateful. I know I am not supposed to say you, but I am grateful that you are holding me now."

They talk drowsily for a bit, but soon succumb to sleep.

Here's the thing.

It's Steve's personal policy to never lie to Diana. That's, like, a pretty basic relationship foundation thing, and it's not something he's ever had trouble with.

But there's one white lie that he doesn't suspect he'll ever come clean about: despite what he tells Diana, he doesn't actually think being little spoon is better than being big spoon.

He likes to hold her, likes getting to nose at her neck and loop his arm around her waist. (Big spoon is also less prone to overheating, which does happen sometimes.)

But Steve also knows that Diana sleeps better as big spoon, that being able to physically hold on to him in her sleep is comforting, a balm after years of night terrors and bad dreams and waking up to empty sheets. It's a small price to pay, in the end, knowing that him being the little spoon makes her happy.

It's a secret he'll take with him to the grave.

Steve wakes up in the dead of night, the shadows still long over the bed, the ambient light from Paris's streetlamps a soft glow along the bottom of the windows. It's the foggy sort of waking that means it'll be easy to slip back under, a mere footnote in the night. Just before he drifts off again, he notices that he's now the little spoon. He sighs contentedly, smiles, and falls back asleep.

#wondertrev #wondertrevbingo2020 #wondertrev fanfic #wondertrev fic #diana x steve #steve x diana #fluff #pure fluff #steve just loves diana so much #just quarantine things #lenci writes

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